#No logic behind the love I just love the goofy looking structures with all my heart

[bookwyrm35]

Lockwood and Co.'s first and last episode both starting with a shot of a ghost lamp is something so special to me.

[nervestatic]

lunar sway anon here! firstly i'd love to hear more about the au so if you post anything else i'd be very interested. secondly, i like those prospit/derse assignments! i'm also very curious about your reasonings for them if you'd be willing to share bc hhh homestuck brain go brr (analysis slaps)

lunar sway anon i would LOVE to talk more about it!! i’m gonna shove this under a cut because it got kinda long, but i’m also planning on making a post talking about the lands i’ve assigned them & i have a fic about dream going grimdark that’s almost done :D :D :D

for anyone wondering what this about, you can see my god tier assignments here!

OKAY, so, starting out with the PROSPIT side of things!

PHILZA: literally the first thing the official lunar sway guide tells us about prospit players is that they’re flexible and optimistic, which i think suits phil to the t. he’s shown himself to be incredibly adaptable and creative with the way he plays in the hardcore servers, and there’s also not a lot of acting that goes into how he presents himself- he’s just a guy who likes to play minecraft, and that really resonates with prospit for me.

NIKI: similarly to phil, niki is really optimistic! she tends to be quite trusting, and even when schlatt became president, she found a way to coexist with his rule because she knew it would help her friends more in the long run. she also tends to be more emotional and open with her feelings, which goes against the idea that derse dreamers tend to hide behind masks (literally and figuratively). TUBBO: tubbo is basically the crown prince of rolling with the punches and adapting to the new world order. we saw it with schlatt, we see it in his other videos all the time! he likes having a leader to follow and rules in place, and when he does lie or hide things, he does it in a way that makes it clear he’s pretending- telling you not to bother asking by being upfront about it (like telling schlatt he was pregnant). he’s also incredibly creative with the way he approaches problems, which is another prospit dreamer trait! GEORGE: george was a hard sell for me! a lot of how he acts could be taken as classic derse dreamer signs- hiding behind a mask (goggles), being logical and keeping his cards close to his chest. but what sold me on him being a prospit dreamer is the contrast he has with dream, and the way he acts in the manhunt videos. he’s incredibly adaptive and flexible with his plans, even though they don’t always go his way, and he’s always willing to get back up and try again. where dream tends to be more cool and collected, george thinks with his feelings and isn’t afraid to make a fool out of himself if it means he’ll win in the end, and that’s why i’ve put him with prospit.

SAPNAP: sapnap is the KING of being upbeat and flexible. he’s laid back without sacrificing being emotional and open with his feelings. he’s always got a joke or something to laugh about, always looking on the bright side even when he’s frustrated with how things are going, and that prankster-esque nature is CLASSIC prospit dreamer in homestuck. he’s a goof and we love him for that!! 

now for the DERSE dreamers!

TECHNO: derse dreamers are rebellious, logical, and tend towards aloofness. they’re known for being great problem solvers and hiding their feelings by using self-deprecating humor. i am just describing technoblade!! so much of him as a person is structured around the persona of being technoblade, to the point where it doesn’t seem like he’s roleplaying on the smp because he’s putting that front up all the time, no matter what game he’s playing or who he’s with. he’s a brilliant problem solver and strategist, and anarchy is a big part of how he presents himself, making derse a perfect fit.

WILBUR: wilbur has this fantastic acerbic wit that’s incredibly reminiscent of the derse dreamers in homestuck for me! he’s incredibly clever and a little bit of a control freak, and he’s never satisfied with what he’s got- there always has to be something for him to rebel against, to the point where he held an election and got himself kicked out of his own nation. once he’s decided on a path, that’s it for him: he’s going to go that way, and you can follow him or be on your own, which is a classic derse dreamer mindset! 

TOMMY: i put tommy as a derse dreamer because he’s essentially the opposite of george- a lot of the traits he presents point to prospit, for me, but when you get into the nitty gritty it turns out a lot of that is an act. he’s incredibly self-aware, and when you do see genuine emotion from him he’s often very quick to cover it up with a joke or an exaggeration to push the spotlight where he wants it, rather than where it might fall naturally. that, and he’s such a fun little rebel- even when he finds people to idolize, he pushes back against them and is constantly testing boundaries with people.

DREAM: this one, like techno, felt kind of obvious to me. derse dreamers tend to hide away, and dream is Literally Faceless. despite the fact that he comes across as extroverted/outgoing, he’s also a deeply private person who has set boundaries about what’s public and what’s just for him. he’s also incredibly intelligent and has a reputation built around his rapidfire strategies and quick problem solving in the manhunts! he also plays a very convincing puppetmaster on the SMP, and the character he plays there seemed like it’d be a good setup for a connection with the horrorterrors, which added to the reasons i put him here.

BADBOYHALO: bad was a tough cookie! a part of why i put him in derse instead of prospit was so that there’d be an even cut of the dream team between the two moons, being completely honest. but i think despite the very upbeat vibes he puts off, there’s also a very tense vibe about him and the way he presents himself. even though he’s willing to be goofy and make a fool of himself, it comes across in a very controlled manner, and i get the feeling that we’re seeing exactly what he wants us to see and perceiving him the way he wants to be perceived.

as for the UNDECIDED....

FUNDY: this fox is impossible to place. he has the rebellious streak and acerbic nature of a derse dreamer, and the creativity and flexibility of a prospit dreamer! i ended up putting him in prospit because he’s such a creative person and even though that creativity is often executed using logic, you can’t deny how goofy and into it he gets in all of his videos, not just the ones on the smp.

ERET: eret is also really hard to place! on one hand, they’re such a cool and open person who seems like he really looks on the bright side. on the other, he also betrayed l’manburg in a truly shocking display of cutthroat-ness and she seems like she’s got this ever-changing plan to end up on top, no matter what that means. i ended up putting them in derse because of the l’manburg betrayal, because that moment really shined for him as a character and it makes for a really interesting storyline.

woof, that got long. thank you so much for asking though, i hope you appreciate the analysis and i would love to hear any opinions about this!!!

[oh-theatre]

Objection!: Chapter 24

Chapter title: The Dark I Know Well

A/n:  IM SO SORRY!! ITS BEEN TWO WEEKS!! Im really sorry!! Ok but heres this chapter and yALL ARE NOT READY FOR THE NEXT ONE OOP- In other news I love logicality, and Remile AND IM SORRY THIS CHAPTER SUCKS BUT ENJOY I HOPE

First | Previous | Next

words: 4297

summary: Patton gets back into court, but things don't turn out the way he had hoped

pairings: Eventual logicality, prinxiety, platonic demus, romantic remile

warnings: Murder mention, child murder, Law and Courtroom, swearing, blood, hospital, crime scene,  murder, gun mention, guns, swearing, abuse, graphic descriptions, alcohol 

Ao3 Link  

Patton was getting used to it, to waking up with something, someone around his arm. He was getting used to feeling safe, some nights were worse than others. Some nights he felt frozen as his demons engulfed him, Logan had to get used to that as well. Today was easier, Patton awoke in a seemingly empty bed. He rolls over but the covers, the warmth...it was his. He decides that at some point in this early morn he must awake. Mumbling nonsense he hoists himself out of the comfort, dragging his blanket with him.

The smell of coffee and fresh breakfast definitely drew the man in. He stumbles into the kitchen, his vision clearing as his eyes set upon a humming Logan moving around carefully, trying his hardest not to make noise. 

“What are...you doing?” He yawns, wrapping the blanket further around him. Logan turns setting down the final pieces, a delighted grin crosses his face. “Who are you and what have you done with Logan?” Patton jokes through a grumpy furrow.

“I have some news” Logan tries to contain himself, Patton approaches fumbling with Logans tie. The lawyer finds his smalle pouting face adorable as it adjusts to the morning light. Logan leans forward placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. 

“Mm” He hums sweetly “News?” He questions, still fiddling with the tie in his hands. Logan takes his hand, placing it under Patton's chin, a soft blush grows on the father's face. 

“Liams case” He starts, instantly Patton can feel the air shatter around him, Logan recognizes the drop in his face. “Love, its going through” He continues, Patton looks up, his eyes shining once more “It's going to trial”

“Ah!” Patton exclaims, a toothy smile spreads, one Logan adores so much. Logan laughs with him, picking him up as he spins him around. Realizing his giddy manner he sets him down, both coughing as they recover from their moment of adrenaline. “Its going through?” Pattons sobs, gentle tears tickle his cheek. Logan wipes them away with his soft thumb, kissing Patton over his face. Sweet kisses placed intricately over the smaller lawyers face. Adorable giggles as Patton steadies his ragged breathing. Logan embraces him, as Patton coils his arms around Logan's neck. Once they've pulled away Patton's mind fills quickly. Questions race, he struggles to structure them. “W-whos on the case?” 

“I am” Logan bites his lip, Patton awaits the unfortunate turn, the ugly truth “As the prosecutor” A breath of relief from both. And yet another tender moment as they clutch so desperately to one another. 

“Children” Patton identifies pulling away, shaking off his feelings he turns with a giant smile, instantly scooping up his twins excited as they jump into his arms. “Good morning my little humbugs!” He greets, a special kiss on the head for each. Logan watches from the outskirts, feeling as though such moments he would earn as time went on. Remus spots the idle figure, an ecstatic giggle emerges.

“Dada is here again!” He blurts through his delusional exhaustion. Pattons eyes shoot open, he takes a soft but deep breath. Logan suppresses a chuckle but welcomes the young boy with open arms, gently stroking his hair to organize the mess. A quick hug before Remus mimics his father as he fumbles with Logans tie. Clearly conducting an investigation of his own, through...odd means. Chewing, stretching and placing strategically on his head, alas the boy concludes nothing. “Dada?” Remus looks to Patton, the lawyer nods “I'm gonna call you papa now” He informs

“Ok” Patton laughs, looking grateful to the ever calm Logan. Patton really needn't worry, Logan finds himself quite comfortable in this situation, almost looking forward to it. “So then what's Val gonna call me?” He amuses

“Imma call you papa! We are going to share so that mister Logan doesn't feel left out” She explains, it becomes harder not to cry for Patton. It feels unreal, this, here and now...surely a dream. “Nom nom!” She squeals, Patton agrees setting her down on the couch. Logan follows suit, ruffling their hair as he walks away. The lawyers meet in the kitchen, soft whispers as the children throw their hands in the air for communication. 

“Lo?” Patton checks, a supportive rub on Logans arm as they lean on the counter. Logan rolls his playful eyes. 

“You do not have to continue to check in” Logan states, Patton lifts innocent eyebrows. “I'm alright, yes it may get harder however right now I am okay. I will inform you otherwise” He assures, Pattons small smile understanding, he leans his head on Logans shoulder. The taller of the pair places a kiss on his forehead, sighing as they watch the twins, oblivious to the world around them. A moment frozen in time, a picture they longed to frame to enjoy when things swirled darker. “Your phone” Logan notes

“Mmhm” Patton yawns, pulling out his device. Fearing the unknown, relieved by the identified caller. “Heya Leo!” He greets with a smile, Logan keeps a steady hand, fiddling with Patton's fingers. “What?” He gapes, coughing back his thoughts, Logan becomes alert “They simple...but '' He listens, the voice of Leo rushes through his words on the other end. “No vote? No campaign?” Patton manages 

“Patton?” Logan whispers in curiosity, Patton takes his hand squeezing only slightly. A terrified excitement passes his face. 

“Yes of course I understand” He goes through, Logan awaits his own intrigue bubbling. A giddy Patton struggles to control his smiles and cheers. “I can do Thursday, three o’clock? Perfect” He promises, marking it down quickly on a notepad that lay idle on the counter. “No Leo I'm… I have so many questions.” He chuckles through his nervousness. “He recommended me? He's just stepping down?” Logan furrows his brows, annoyed with the anticipation. “Yes of course, Thank you so much Leo” He nods on the final notes, now feeling tears well under his glasses, the brim catching them before they fall. He hangs up the phone, a shuddered breath.

“Love?” Logan eyes him, feeling a pit in his stomach form.  

“I'm going to be a city counselor” Patton grins

~~~

“But hes okay?” Patton asks, his hands growing sweaty. James nods, yawning through and through.

“Yeah, I stayed up with him and eventually lured him back to bed” James describes “I think he's getting worse” He sighs, rubbing his forehead. Patton ignores the plethora of texts and phone calls buzzing, knowing the unknown caller means nothing but trouble. “We made an appointment for the doctor this afternoon, I just want him to be ok” James admits

“I know, we all do” Patton thinks back to the restless nights when Roman would stay with him, flinching as he remembered the tight hold he had over the petrified man. “The doctors is a good idea, you're doing everything you can” Patton assures, a grateful smile from James and they continue walking. Spotting the antsy detective instantly, Patton stops the pair. “Just a quick warning, above all else Virgil cares alot about R- his friends-” He corrects, a lifted eyebrow from James. “Don't take it personally, he's just worried”

“Patton!” Virgil calls out, reaching them, Patton takes his shoulder quickly. “Is he ok? What happened? What did you do!?” He turns on James and fast, his temper overtaking. 

“Hey” Patton begins gently, a soothing rub on the man's arm “He didn't do anything but help” Patton promises, feeling as though a mediator. “We went through this Virge, remember? Ro’s going to be going through some stuff” Virgil keeps a dead glare on James, the judge keeps his head high in retort. 

“He was fine, he's been fine...until you” The detective seethes. James scoff, offended by the accusation. Patton keeps them apart, less than excited for the violent turn this may take. “You did this! You did something” Virgil argues

“Okay no” James replies, Patton sighs knowing this won't take a turn for the better. He feels his stomach churn, a dazed sweat on his forehead forming. Listening as the muffled voices of the pair argue, it must be a reflex he deciphers, feeling sudden arms wrap around him so gently. Expecting more panic instead Patton finds comfort as Logan embraces him from behind, kissing his cheek sweetly. His arms placed ever so carefully on Patton's stomach, meeting the lawyers hands. 

“Hi” He whispers as Virgil and James continue. Patton melts into it, feeling this unusual sentiment from Logan so sweet. Though he does wonder what might have slipped into the man's coffee for such affection. 

“Hi” He replies softly, spinning so he faces his partner. Logans excitement is obvious as a smirk is placed on his face. “What's gotten into you?” Patton chuckles. A quick turn in Logan's expression, concern. “What is it dearest?”

“I should have-” He straightens himself, adjusting his glasses with a clearing of his throat. “I shouldn't have snuck up on you, I apologize” Patton lets out a soft exhale, a goofy smile. He hadn't noticed, but it had not set anything off in him. In Fact that small moment of surprise felt nice. He moves his arms down, interlacing his fingers with logans. 

“I appreciate that but I'm okay” He assures, tuning out the consistent arguing. “Lord almighty will the both of you stop” He begs, Virgil and James turn to him both realizing Logans presence. 

“Oh hey Lo” Virgil greets, his tone shifting calmer. Patton rolls his eyes looking between the pair. “When did you get here?” He asks, an innocence to the flutter of his eyes. Neither lawyers amused. 

“Whats the disagreement about?” Logan inquires, adjusting so he stands next to Patton, their fingers interlaced in sweet secrecy. Patton fixes his glasses, as he waits for yet another explosion from either of them. 

“James here has no regard for Romans health” Virgil spits, a pressed smile as he bats his eyes towards the judge. James stomps an angry foot, feeling trapped in his words. “See?” 

“Thats not true” James begins, his voice kept low and steady. “I care a great deal for Roman and have taken the measures I can to help him” James explains, Logan admires his honesty and his level head. Knowing how Virgil's anger and sarcasm can rile a person. “Virgil I understand your upset, I also know your history with Roman and how much you care about him. But I promise, I am doing everything I can to help him” James softens, the detectives' defenses fall as his shoulders hunch. The sweet concern sparking a familiarity in him. 

“Whatever” Virgil decides after a moment, keeping his reservations about the judge. He gives the lawyers one more look before taking his leave. His mind carefully flooding with thoughts, wishing to see Romans arrogant smile, galavant down the halls, bellowing with laughter. Feeling alone, by his own hand. 

“He does not like me” James states, timid laughter from the group. The people around them combine into one busy noise, each with a duty to fulfill. “Speaking of Roman, I'm going to go check on him” James figures “Ill see you in court mister Hart” With a nod of agreement from Patton, James follows suit and disappears into the marbled halls of the courthouse. 

“Excited for court?” Logan lifts Patton's hand, linking their arms instead as they begin walking. A soft chuckle from Patton, prompting his own cluttered thoughts to begin.

“I suppose, Diana is a worthy opponent so far, but it feels like the entire case is stacked against me” He admits, flashing a quick smile to Lia as she leads some children to the daycare. “James is nice enough and I have nothing against him…” Something chews at the tip of Patton's tongue, Logan can tell there is more. There's always more. 

“What?” He turns them into his office, closing the door behind him. They take their rightful seats, at least something stays the same. 

“Nothing it's silly” He waves away the doubt, wanting to move on quickly. Logan deems this occurrence small, nothing needed to push. 

“My mothers are coming to visit” Logan recalls an earlier conversation. Patton beams instantly, his teeth almost blinding with their joy. “I believe that would be an optimal time to inform them of our current relationship, and introduce them formally to the twins” Logan suggests, Patton purses his giggles.

“Yes of course” He jokes, the room stings still with this small moment of comfort. 

~~~

“Objection if you claim that your defendants being framed!” Diana cries, the court on the edge of their seats as both lawyers tense in determination. 

“Then all the same I ask you where's the proof?” Patton retorts “Every piece of evidence has been circumstantial or proven invalid!” Patton flips through the evidence slides, only proving his words “My client-”

“Lacks a solid alibi!” Diana claims, Patton scoffs, pulling out yet another file. 

“Read it and weep” Patton places it on her desk “Every night of every murder accounted for. George couldn't be more innocent if we tried” Patton dusts himself, glancing towards the audience spotting a prideful Logan in his seat. 

“Order! Order in the court” James bangs his gavel, every breath silent. “Enough, this is not a playhouse. You will treat my court with respect and follow the rules” He declares, an uneasy glare shared between the lawyers. “Now mister Hart I wont tolerate this behavior, miss Bernard please continue your questioning” 

“Your honor-” Patton begins, but the subtle look from James prompts his quick seating. He glance shameful back at Logan, the lawyers stern glare at the judge unmatched. He tried to analyze the man, find his quirks, why was he doing this? The light buzz in his pockets sets Patton off. He raises his hand calmly, alas his foot taps incessantly. James finds the noise an annoyance, turning to Patton.

“Yes mister Hart?” 

“I have a call, I need to take it” He doesn't ask, he is past that point with James. After a quick furrow of the eyebrow, James waves him into the hall. Logan eyes him but stays planted. “Mister Hart” He sighs, feeling exhaustion take over. 

“Yes I do indeed know this” Pattons heart sinks, the toxic feeling spreads. The voice snickers, a quick chill runs through the mans spine. “Any day now” It threatens, Patton sinks his nails deep into his palm, his forehead drowning. “Seriously, I would say your goodbyes now…”

“Leave me alone” He whispers viciously, begging as he keeps himself calm. 

“Nice try” It replies “I'm dying to meet you” It jokes “Soon, but for now...farewell” As the line goes dead, Patton shudders a breath. He shakes away his thoughts returning into the room, Logan stands and is seemingly arguing with James.

“That's unjust your honor” He argues, Patton gives him a glance but the lawyers frustration has taken over. “Shes badgering the witness!” Logan claims, James shares a look with Diana before he turns back to Logan.

“First of all overruled, second if you continue this behaviour I will have my bailiff remove you from my court” James states, adjusting his position as he leans back cavalier. “Mister Hart, please return to your seat” Patton did so, a grateful lock between the lawyers as he passed. Alas Logan was right, Diana was good but she had a temper and it would be fine if James didn't allow her to continue. Patton found himself discouraged yet again, this case was going to kill him. 

~~~

“Behave! Please” Emile begs as the children race past him, bouncing as they land on his couch. Remy chuckles following them into the doctor's office, shutting the door. Quieting the busy precinct outside. He cradles Thomas, humming as he sways softly, Emile watches with the gentlest of smiles. Remus grows ansty and begins jumping in place, causing fits of laughter from Valerie and Damian. Soon enough its as loud in there as the outside.

“Hey” Remy starts, he places Thomas into Emiles arms before scooping Remus up in his own. “Why don't you three find something calming to do?” He asks, Remus giggles as he crawls onto the detectives shoulders. Remy adjusts so he can secure the rowdy child.  Remus fiddles with Remy's hair, trying to braid the messy fluff. 

“May I say hi to Thomas?” Damian asks, tugging ever so sweetly on Remy's pants. Emile stifles a delighted swoon before nodding. Damian returns to the couch, his hands sit in his lap, small taps as he waits for Emile to situate himself. The doctor hands him Thomas, wrapping his arms so he can help Damian. Remy plays with the twins, laughing wildly as they dance around the room. For a moment Remy and Emile meet each others eyes across the room, a shared sparkle of affection, surrounded by this outpour of love and joy. 

After what seems like hours the kids find themself exhausted once more, each cuddled together on the couch with one of Emiles blankets sprawled across them for comfort. Remy and Emile sit by the desk, huddled over a now sleeping Thomas.

“Wanna count his toes and fingers again?” Emile whispers, leaning his tired head on Remy's shoulder. Remy places a gentle kiss on his forehead before sinking into the touch. 

“I think he still has twelve of each” He teases “Let him rest” Emile chuckles softly, a yawn emerging. “Em?” Remy asks, the doctor nods.

“Hmm?” He hums, stroking Thomas’s head ever so delicately.

“I love you” Remy finds Emiles hand, interlacing their fingers. A lazy gasp from Emile as he sits up to look his partner in his eyes. 

“Crazy!” he delights “Cause I love you too” He assures, leaning in for a kiss. Thomas coughs, almost missed in his low tone, but his eyes flutter open. A sense of safety as they land on his parents. Thomas finds Emiles finger and squeezes with all his force, though not much, Emile struggles to hold back his tears. Remy tickles the baby, the lightest of laughs as Thomas feels tired once more. Safe and secure in couples arms he returns once more to the land of dreams, Emile and Remy smile at each other. A family, their family. 

Patton was absolutely right

Love does make a family

Nothing else had to matter, some people might not understand that. Why should blood and genetics define the undefinable. Remy and Emile loved each other and they loved Thomas, that was a family. Patton loved his kids and Logan, that was a family. Virgil loved Damian, that was a family. Love was the secret ingredient, whether biological or adopted, maybe a group of friends, a family is what you make of it.  

And Remy and Emile had made theirs

~~~

“Objectively that is not the best book ever” Logan drones on, Patton walks alongside him listening intently, while Virgil simply groans. “Ah I see im boring you, I will refrain from this topic any further” He decides, a thankful squeak from the detective, Patton chuckles mindlessly, his tired eyes drifting away. 

Logan however wasn't sure why luck had deemed it so but as Gloria walked towards him, he was sure no gods were watching over him. And as her hand flew across his face, he wondered...at what point did that same bejeweled hand fly across Patton's unsuspecting, innocent, face?

“Logan!” Patton cries, moving rapidly towards him, taking his side by the lawyer. “Are you ok?” He questions in a gentle whisper. 

“Im fine” He promises, his instinct to get Patton as far away from the woman. But alas the father's sweet concern turns to fiery anger.

“What is wrong with you?!” He forces, Glorias smirk falls away. “Are you insane?” He accuses, Logan keeps a steady hand on his partner. Patton takes a breath shaking his attention away from his mother. “Come on” He takes Logans hand, walking away followed by an angry detective. 

“Patton, love im ok” Logan assures as his partner examines his face. Virgil watches, a subtle happiness for his friends. 

“Oo nicknames that's adorable!” Roman muses, giddy as he struts into the room. Virgil squeezes his arm, stopping his thoughts. Logan swats sweetly at Pattons hands, taking them so they stop analyzing the slapped area. “Wait what happened?” 

“Shh not now” Patton whispers as two children race towards him, jumping into both his and Logan's arms. Remus instantly begins talking Patton's ears off, Valerie simply snuggles into Logan. “Hi humbugs” Patton greets, Logan though wishing to stay gives Patton a knowing glance. “Val come here love” The handoff is simple, a quick kiss to Pattons cheek and Logan accompanied by Roman makes his way out. After a quick farewell Virgil leaves as well, Remy following him.

“They were great” Emile adds as the fours of them head to the office to clean up and get ready. Patton awes as Remus somehow crawls his way into Emiles arms. “Well hello mister”

“Mister pickle!” Remus exclaims, kissing his hands as he places them on Emile's face. They continue, laughing as they recollect the day. “And then we made art! And I got to play with baby Thomas! And he's my other best friend!” Remus smiles, grinning a bit too wide, Patton chuckles but soon that falls away and his heart tightens. 

“Liam” He sighs, thinking his fear of the man would have disappeared by now. Emile grasps his hold on Remus, a more secure protection on the boy. “Why are you here?” He asks for what seems the desperate millionth time. 

“I wanted to see my kids, and I heard you were moving on...couldn't let that happen” He smiles, a soft lip twitch that Patton had fallen for so many times. Emile brings him back with a gentle touch. “Emile” Liam recognizes

“I have Remy on speedial” Emile threatens, his eyes dead as he watches the only person he would ever dare utter the word hate about. Patton could feel his throat sink as it dried up of all his words, he wanted to run anywhere and yet he couldnt. His feet refused to move, to take a step beyond. “You should go” Emile suggests. Patton nods, not looking him in the depths of his cold eyes.

“Cupcake”

“Liam please stop” Patton pleads as Liam refuses to listen. He whimpers slightly but breathes through his fear. The kisses feel rough, Patton wonders if this is what its supposed to feel like, the force pushing him onto the couch. He tries to slightly move, but feeling his body stiff and pinned. “Liam please, im exhausted” He didnt want to tonight, he didnt have the energy to amuse this sickening feeling. 

“Come on cupcake, you love it” Liam places the lie in his ear, backing away for a breath. Liam starts to unbutton his shirt, Patton looks up remembering Logans words. ‘Look up to the sky, past the ceiling and there in the stars is me. You've got this. Breathe’

“Breathe” Patton smiles, he looks to Liam biting his lower lip. “Goodbye Liam” He strides right past, followed by a prideful Emile who cant contain his giggle. “Shush Emile” He teases, his own blush spreading. 

“I didn't say a word but…” Emile purses his lips, linking his free arm with Pattons. “Nicely done, im proud of you peaches” The nickname stumbles out, nostalgia hits the pair, the friendship of the fathers re-sparking. “Come on, I'm sure Logan wants to see you and I want to see my precious angel”  Emile coos, imagining the small face of his baby, blowing the tiniest of bubbles. Patton catches his dazed eyes, and laughs sweetly.

“I know that look” He remembers, the shame and despair all washed away when he first held the twins. “Im reall-”

Bang

Patton wasn't sure if he heard it right but Emile knew what a gunshot sounded like. He also knew how close that was. He grabs Patton, once more making sure Remus is safe in his arms, he races them into a nearby office. Dropping them to the ground almost instantly. 

“Pa-” Emile begins, but Patton hushes him. He clutches him close, also making sure he can feel Remus’s soft hair under his fingers. He knows the feeling of pure fear, he knows how to save face under absolute anxiousness. How and why images of Liam flashed through his head was a different question.

“We have to move” Patton advises, hoping the deafening silence meant an opening. Emile nods, he covers Remus as does Patton with Valerie. They move quickly, a gasp as yet another sound rings out. 

Bang 

“Guys! In here” They recognize the voice, Willow ushers them in her own face streaked with tears. They follow her in, too much adrenaline runs in them for the terrified feeling to sink in. But as soon as the door shuts closed in an isolated corner, Emile drops heaving to the ground. He cries, trying to stifle it for the sake of his confused and scared children but something is in him, triggering whatever sobs fall out of him. 

“Emile I need you to breathe” Patton begs, Diana emerges as she cradles Valerie. Emile shakes his head, apologetic. Another sound shakes their ground, another ear piercing scream. When had Patton become so numb to this? “We have to keep moving” Patton says, supporting Emile and allowing Willow to carry Remus they move once more. Watching familiar faces escape, alas only so many can. Somehow they find themself stuck inside, nowhere to go and so few places to hide.

But yet, they were not alone.

Only their luck would deem it so. 

His stupid petty fear was going to get them caught, his silly cries as he banged on the door.

Dammit Liam...why couldn't you have left?

[ladypyb]

Snowballing Into The Heart

Rating: T (for a little bit of cursing)

Relationship/s: USUK, Brotherly AmeCan

Tags: hetaliaxmasevent, Cardverse, Meet-Cute (First Meetings), and a lot of snow XDD

Day 4 of HetaliaXmasEvent: Snowball fight | Skiing | Christmas without snow

|ao3|

(Ooohh man, it’s past midnight in my place. XDD I hope you enjoy it!!!)

In hindsight, Matthew shouldn't have gone to fetch a towel and leave him, the Prince of Spades, bored and alone near the Mages' Tower. He should have just called a servant.

Time passed onwards, as usual, its pace made Alfred wonder if they have the capability to change it. How curious it made him. And how desperate he was to hurry for the warmer days.

The prince liked winter. He didn't hate it. He didn't like like it, either. This was when the power of their kingdom had significant growth, after all. But Alfred didn't love the long cold nights in the season. He didn't outright adore the fact that he had to wear multiple, thick woolen jackets and heat-producing amulets that hinder his movement and stealth. Not to mention the tales about the cold season his mother told him in his childhood. Bad things happen to everyone in winter. Terribly bad things. Brrr!

He liked the powdery snow, though. Its color and often ethereal shine made the scenery look so pure. The dusting they made on the landscapes made him grin and jump into the freezing powder.

It itched him to jump in right now. Anything to go distract himself while Matthew began narrating to him the activities he had for the day. Often, he found his brother's tone monotonous when in duty. No, definitely not 'often' but 'always'. Yes, that's the right word.

"Remember not to touch anything, you might get a curse for even holding a pen that isn't yours. Don't stray away from the floating white lamps and proceed to the violets, the Head Mage told me the young fae tend to use play-magic there. Mother would kill both of us if you tried to pick a fight with one of the mages-"

Bla Bla Bla. The prince slumped against the cold brick of the wall, crossing his arms. What was the point of visiting the Magicians' Wing if they weren't even allowed to enter their laboratories? What was the goal of even doing biannual safety procedures with Alfred, the future King of Spades, if he wasn't the one doing the procedures?

In his head, his mother would definitely reply to him in her babytalk: "Aw, sugarplum, you are only needed to show your face and let the mages do the rest of the checking. It's theirs, after all. You wouldn't want to ruin their threshold and be painted as the villain, would you?"

... Yeah... Listening to Matthew's nagging would be better than their mother's overly-sweet babytalk. Both were sadistic in their own way but his brother's words were blunt, unlike the queen's underlying threats.

"-To stop... Are you listening to me, Al?"

He groaned in his head. "Yeah, I was." No, he definitely wasn't. "How about this tower?" Alfred gestured to the one behind him but kept his eyes on the soft, beckoning snow at their feet. Hmm... He looked up to his brother so quickly he felt his neck crack a bit. "Can we at least have permission to rest in somewhere warm rather than in their freezing gardens?"  The garden wasn't biting in the least. He wore a heating amulet and multiple coats, Alfred was warm to the core and sweating inside his personal sauna.

Distract him, distract him, distract him. Alfred recited like a mantra in his head as he slowly crouched down to the soft ground, his eyes on his brother. As Matthew blinked at the tower's structure, the prince started to fist a ball of snow in his leather gloves.

Matthew studied the tower, contemplating. It was smaller than the other buildings on the property. The tower must be a storage room. The lights shining behind the elaborately framed windows stated otherwise, though.

"I don't know, Al. There might be someone important residing in the- Oomph!"

Something wooshed in the air! A cold and soft object hit the side of his jaw. Matthew paused and stared at the sitting and grinning person in front that was his brother. A snowball. Alfred hit him with a snowball. The prince guffawed heartily at his brother's expression of Thou-hast-betrayed-me-brother. Matthew's wide eyes turned into slits. This unbelievably childish tool-

Matthew bent low, scooped a handful of snow and-

"Hahahaha- Fwah!"

Bullseye into Alfred's mouth. Matthew smirked when the other began 'blech!'-ing and 'pswooh!'-ing out the melting snow out of his mouth. Heh, you aren't the only one who can throw snowballs, Alfred!

The blue-eyed prince stared at the violet-eyed ace with a sly look in his face. "You're on!"

Alfred scrambled onto the ground, embracing and creating a mound out of snow. He cupped a fistful and rotated it in his hands. He glanced back at his brother, crap, he's on his third ball! The prince started to quickly fist and cup the snow. The mound in front of him waned to his fear of losing.

No time! Alfred sprang to his feet and threw a snowball at his brother. On the face! Grunting, Matthew frowned and fired back at him. The prince dodged to the side as it almost hit his prized family jewels down below. Matthew cackled. Oh, man, this was war. A man doesn't aim for another guy's most sensitive area!

Then came the onslaught of the balls of snow. Missed and badly-aimed snowballs hit the walls, the hall near the entrance, and the plants carefully maintained in the garden. Bushes cracked and broke to the strength of their blows.

Passing servants and apprentices of mages paid them no mind as they passed by. It was no secret that both men in the royal family often behaved like children when they thought no one was looking. A few frowned at their display when they hit a third party, these occurrences were followed by a distracted 'Sorry!'.

Their roughhousing with the snow ended with a grand snowball from the prince to his brother on the stomach, sending poor Matthew falling on his back. Alfred fell to his knees, a goofy smile on his face in his triumph. He fell forward in exhaustion. Afterward, he moved to his side, panting.

Matthew managed to only hit him on his jaw and legs. Alfred hit him everywhere on his body with the help of his overzealous need to win every challenge and interest that crosses his path.

Matthew shuffled to stand, the other raised a brow at him, disbelieving. Alfred gave it all he had, ended up on the ground last and Matthew still stood up? What gives? He whined.

"Oh, don't be a baby. Stand up, you'll catch a cold." Matthew held his hand out to his brother which Alfred accepted. "Ugh," Matthew brushed off his clothes with his free hand, "I'm dripping. I'll never doubt these amulets, again."

Alfred flailed his arms like a dog, droplets flung everywhere. "Looks like it. Let's go ask for towels."

The older and logical of the two watched the other suspiciously. "No. You'll most likely slip away somewhere and get lost- "

"Impossible! I don't get lost."

"-Or cause some mischief on the way." Matthew crossed his arms, firm.

Alfred wiped his brow. "So are both just going to stand here? Baiting the cold and die of pneumonia?"

The ace pursed his lips. He clicked his tongue. "Fine," Alfred cheers at this, " But I'll fetch the towels. You," he gestured at Alfred, "Stay here."

The other pouted and kicked the accumulating snow below. Matthew enters into the open doors of the hallway. "Aww c'mon, Matt!"

"Don't. Go. Anywhere." The ace commanded as he eyed Alfred and continued down the hall.

Alfred clicked his tongue childishly. So what if he'd stray away from the directions sometimes, it wasn't like he'd easily die! The blessings from their clocks prevented that.

... He did oftentimes find himself suffering from a curse or two, managed to almost get assassinated, have been on the verge of death more than five times, and have been poisoned while eating street food. But Alfred survived!

He could almost hear Yao, the Jack, mumble beside his mother while tending his wounds or whatever harm he was inflicted, "With the amount of curiosity, and stubbornness you are born with, I could only pray to the Maker your rule would be as peaceful as it can be."

Alfred sighed, looking up he traced the flying bird overhead. The feathered animal circled the garden and perched atop a small roof of a window sill of the tower. He wished he was as free as the bird, free to go anywhere and able to do what he pleased.

He observed the little bird, bright orange stomach- A robin! How strange, robin birds weren't native to Spades, especially in one of Spades' northern areas. Alfred moved to spy under the windowsill, it was a few feet above his head but nothing could stop him.

When he craned his neck to observe the bird, he noticed a messy mop of golden hair near the windowpane. Someone was there- Oh Blessed Time!

Alfred ducked and made himself be one with the wall behind him. The windows opened with a clank! and the snow sprinkled on the prince's nose. His nostrils tickled. Ah- He wants to sneeze! Alfred pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

"-Damned pests. No wonder the potion did nothing! I should have known they'd place it in the wrong flask."

An accented voice of a man. It was so light and deep at the same time, it made Alfred wonder if the man swallowed a piccolo and a bass at the same time.

Light thumps and a resonating clink. "... What in the name of Time happened here?" The mystery man groaned. "Those freshmen! I can't believe- My roses!" The man stomped away from the window. The sound of heavy steps receded with a bang from a door.

The prince released a breath he was holding. That was so close. If the guy looked down, he'd see Alfred's nose and furred boots. He moved away from the wall. Finally able to ogle freely, he found two open flasks filled with mysterious liquids. One was changing colors rapidly while the other alternated between gold and silver.

The robin from before chirped and fluttered its wings. Oh no. Don't tell him the bird wants to- It glided down unto the windowsill with the two very open and unmistakably dangerous flasks.

"Oh, damn it!"

Alfred scrambled and raised his foot on the side of the brick wall. His gloved hands gripped the windowsill noisily, the robin squawked at him. The prince grunted as he set his elbows down near the flasks, he faced the bird's screeching. He shooed the orange robin with a dismissive hand.

It flapped its wings and nearly bit off his ears as it flew away from him and the flasks. He liked birds but he didn't like them mutated or dead.

Alfred banged his head and resisted to groan at the ridiculousness of his situation. His top half was rested atop a mage's windowsill in an effort to avoid an unwanted experiment. He didn't even know exactly why he ducked to be seen by one mage when didn't even bother to care for his image while playing in the snow with his brother.

He shifted an annoyed glance to the strange fluids. With their swirling and changing of colors, he thinks of them to be potions. They certainly resembled like potions. He sniffed at both of their opening; butter, lilies, and peach. Yep, definitely potions. There was no way liquids could change colors with just these ingredients.

"Hey! You there!" The same accented voice shouted below him. "What are you doing?"

There was disapproval in the voice. Alfred seemed reluctant to look at the man scolding him. He has had enough of it today! Alfred prevented a bird from destroying your potions. The prince turned his head to glare at the man, a scowl on his face.

Eh? His scorned expression dissipated into a daze.

Bright green eyes that were the shade of grass in summer framed by spun gold locks stood out from the man's white robe and soft snowy landscape. The guy had half of his face overrun with caterpillars- Wait, no. He just had large eyebrows. Surprisingly, it made the other look distinguished.

This guy must be the mage! The mage furrowed his brows and growled something Alfred couldn't hear. He raised his brow in confusion and held unto the sill with only an arm as the handsome man gestured his arm aimlessly... at Alfred?

What was he- Whack! Alfred's hold on the windowsill slipped.

"Aaaaaa- oof!" He crashed down on his back. Groaning, he placed his hand on his chest. Fragments of a snowball began melting to the power of the amulet under his coat. The dull pain that throbbed in his chest was nothing to the sharpness of blow to the side of his head. Did he hit his head when he fell...?

The mage's face swam into his blurry view. The expression of the mage full of concern was badly hidden through the annoyed curve of his lips. Alfred decided the guy was adorably handsome.

"... Are... kay... ?"

"Hn."

The green-eyed beauty touched his cheek. The prince moved into the chilled fingers. Aaah. He felt hot and cold at the same time.

"Hold... I... get...  elp."

The angel's face blurred. Huh, did... Did Alfred lose his glasses when he fell?

He tried to focus on the other's fretting on him. Alfred's eyes closed, losing its strength to even move an eyelid. Darkness swallowed him and his consciousness.

Hm. It seems the Cupid from Hearts shot him in the chest with a snowball, instead of an arrow.

//end

[crusherthedoctor]

Sonic Villains: Sweet or Shite? - Part 7: METAL SONIC

It's been a while, but it's time for another Crusher review and analysis.

There are some villains I like. And there are some villains I don't like. But why do I feel about them the way I do? That's where this comes in.

This is a series of mine in which I go into slightly more detail about my thoughts on the villains in the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise, and why I think they either work well, or fall flat (or somewhere in-between). I'll be giving my stance on their designs, their personalities, and what they had to show for themselves in the game(s) they featured in. Keep in mind that these are just my own personal thoughts. Whether you agree or disagree, feel free to share your own thoughts and opinions! I don't bite. :>

Anyhow, for today's installment, we'll be putting the Stardust Speedway saxophones aside for a moment to discuss Dr. Eggman's notorious robotic copycat, who desperately wants to show us what he's made of: Metal Sonic.

NOTE: While I will be taking several of Metal Sonic's non-game portrayals into account, this will NOT include his Sonic the Comic incarnation, as I feel that Fleetway's Metal - or Metallix, as he's called - is so vastly different in so many ways that I feel there's no point, whereas his other portrayals in non-game media are considerably more consistent for the most part.

The Gist: Being a criminal mastermind slash world conquerer in the making has its shortcomings, and for Dr. Eggman/Dr. Robotnik/The Bad Guy, that shortcoming came in the form of a plush-sized hedgehog who frequently wrecked his machines, foiled his plans, and - worst of all - talked back at him. This literal thorn on his side made the good doctor a very unhappy camper, but one day, his brilliant brain brought a brilliant breakthrough: Why not pit Sonic against himself?

During his then-new scheme to use the Time Stones of the Little Planet to conquer the world through time, Eggman worked tirelessly on his new idea to ensure it was just right. It couldn't be too slow. It couldn't be too bulky. It couldn't be too un-Sonic-like, for he vowed to assert his technological dominance by making a better Sonic than the real one. He wanted this to be his greatest creation yet, and he wasn't going to half-ass that objective.

The result was Metal Sonic, a marvel of industrial automation who established himself as fast as Sonic, as deadly as Sonic, and... not talkative, unlike Sonic. No wonder Eggman declared him the superior of the two.

Eggman loves his creation so much that he’s willing to let him die if this goes wrong. That’s how you know he’s his favourite.

Sure enough, Eggman's efforts were not entirely in vain, as the blue droid was more than a match for Sonic in the speed department, as well as the "What's the best way to make it clear to Amy Rose that I'm not interested?" department via snatching up Sonic's pink hedgehog acquaintance, leaving her as the doctor's captive. Unfortunately however, despite giving Sonic the race of his life, Metal was not yet as quick in his reflexes as the genuine article was, meaning his initial reign of terror came to an abrupt end when he flew head-first into a wall, George of the Jungle-style. Eggman was devastated, except he wasn't, because he knew he could just rebuild and upgrade him. Which he did. Constantly.

He also rebuilt these guys for some reason.

Since his debut in Sonic CD, Metal has went on to appear in a sizable number of games throughout the years, and he's made some personal appearances in a few other continuities as well. Most of these appearances simply have him show up, attack Sonic and other heroes for a bit, then get his ass handed to him. Some of those ass-kickings even came with a tasty amount of hue hues. But every now and then, they'll have him do something more, the most famous example being Sonic Heroes, in which he took over Eggman's army by force and went on his own little crusade to gain everyone's data and become Metal GodJesus, all the while proving himself the real Sonic the Hedgehog... by doing a lot of things the real Sonic the Hedgehog would never do. (This general concept would reappear in the IDW comics, though he did not betray Eggman that time around.)

Overall though, Metal is generally considered to be a welcome face whenever he makes an appearance... when he’s not dreaded for being the biggest roadblock in Fighters.

“Well that’s the end of the playthrough, make sure to like, comment, subscribe.”

The Design: What is there to say about Metal Sonic’s design? It’s cool, it’s ominous, it’s sleek, it’s stylish, and it holds a palpable aura of dangerous badassitude while still fitting perfectly with the design philosophy of this franchise. Truly, Metal’s design alone makes him one of the all-time greats of the Eggman repertoire, and it's easy to see why the scientist is particularly proud of this one.

He’s the robot your robot could crash into a wall like.

He’s had a few transformations over the years though. In Knuckles Chaotix, he turned into a ginormous monstrosity commonly referred to by fans as Metal Sonic Kai, who terrified many juniors back in the day due to making the inexcusable error of not being blue. The bad ending might have also affected them.

E for Everyone.

Luckily, Classic Metal got the right idea two decades later, and kept his blue colour scheme when the Phantom Ruby brought the form back in Sonic Mania Plus. As for Modern Metal, he had a brief life (or lives, if you count IDW) as Neo Metal Sonic, who - despite being made with the intention to be a darker, cooler, more serious iteration of the character - went the complete opposite direction by looking less like a frightening metal monarch, and more like a shonen anime’s midnight seizure.

Look at this fucking thing.

Elf shoes. Ripped skirt. Starfish haircut. Vaguely phallic strap in the appropriate area. Regular Metal may have a semi-cutesy look even in his more dangerous iterations, but at least he doesn't come off as a compensating son who doesn't quite know how to come out to his judgemental father, which is more than I can say for whatever the hell this is supposed to be. Is this really meant to be a more intimidating design? A more badass design...?

Then, as if this wasn’t ridiculous enough for Metal already, they had him transform even further into MechaGodzilla Metal Overlord, a goliath made from the remains of the Egg Fleet, with a side order of spikes and artist’s regret.

"Sonic, I was created for the sole purpose of destroying you... but I can never seem to defeat you... That is why I purchased Freddie Mercury's wardrobe with my own hands!"

Said form also returned in the IDW comic, rechristened Master Overlord, who traded the clawed wings and the flamethrower in exchange for symmetrical hands and a more simplistic body structure, at the expense of looking even more like a children’s toy.

Needless to say, Metal's had some... interesting transformations over the years. But his original look will always remain iconic, and rightly so.

The Personality: Metal Sonic's personality is harder to specify compared to other characters in the series, because his kill-first ask-later demeanour in tandem with his usual muteness means we see him most of the time as little more than a Sonic-shaped extension of Eggman's will. That said however, there have been deeper glimpses here and there into what makes his mechanical mind tick.

The most obvious thing to note is that Metal holds the very un-Sonic trait of not having time for nonsense. Sure, he might not be above taunting his organic counterpart in a likeminded way occasionally, but that aside, he's generally a pretty serious and humorless individual, a stark contrast to his creator and master that nonetheless works in the latter's favor, as the realisation that the goofy manchild Eggman of all people made this thing helps shoot down the myth that the rotund madman is all talk.

"He's behind you!" "Shut it wee man, this is a serious play."

Then there's his insanity, by means of identity crisis. It's not known if this was something that was there from the beginning, or if it's somethng that developed and worsened with each defeat, but at some point in his life, Metal convinced himself that despite literally being made with the intention of exterminating the actual Sonic, he himself was in fact the actual Sonic, and that the actual actual Sonic that already existed prior to his inception was in fact the actual Not-Sonic (or a faker, as would be used to describe a certain other lookalike). This belief has caused him to do a bunch of crazy stuff of dubious logic, and don't try to question him on his reasoning, lest you want him to cut you open like a Terry's Chocolate Orange.

His relationship with Eggman is something of an enigma. While his teenage phase betrayal in Heroes is probably the most mainstream evidence of how he feels about his master, it's easy to forget that this was the exception, not the rule. In nearly every other appearance before and since then, Metal has shown nothing but stone cold loyalty towards the doctor and his cause. Even in IDW, when he regained his Neo form and basically did everything he could to remind everyone that Heroes was a thing that existed, he did it that time around for the purpose of finding his master, and helping to restore his empire. A far cry from Neo's first attempt, when he was ranting and raving about how he should have the empire.

Thus, I can only conclude that while his Sonic-esque AI may cause him to get a little reckless, he remains genuinely devoted to his creator outside of his brief cocaine rush in Heroes... and Free Riders, but I don't think anyone knew what was going on in that one. I don't think he knew what was going on in that one.

But perhaps most surprisingly of all - according to the OVA at least - despite all his black-hearted ways, he is still capable of good, as evidenced when he saved the President and the legendary Old Man Owl from dying a fiery death. Whether it's an inherent part of his own nature, or whether it's a side-effect of his Sonic programming, isn't fully clear... but either way, he might want to make sure Eggman doesn't find out about it.

The Execution: Metal Sonic's execution is a complicated case, because there's a dissonance between when he's merely an obstacle for the good guys, and when they've tried to make him more than that.

When he's merely Eggman's instrument of evildoing, he does the job nicely. Sometimes his appearances can be underwhelming depending on the game (read: Sonic 4), but he usually provides a memorable scuffle when it's time for him to put up his dukes. Even if half of those are actually races.

When he aims for bigger, on the other hand? Well...

I've already joked about Neo Metal Sonic's design, but don't be fooled, for his ridiculous fashion sense is merely one part of my beef with the overall concept of Neo. Simply put, everything about Neo Metal Sonic goes against everything that makes this particular character work.

Ranting, monologuing, and running his mouth off does not work for Metal Sonic.

Gathering everyone's data with the intention of becoming Metal Everyone does not work for Metal Sonic.

Transforming into a goddamn dragon does not work for Metal Sonic. (I can let Metal Sonic Kai slide since despite being bigger and more monstrous, you can still recognise it as Metal Sonic specifically. Colour scheme aside, Metal Overlord/Master Overlord might as well be a random monster entirely.)

These ideas aren't necessarily bad on their own. They could work for another villain, or another Eggman minion. But for Metal Sonic specifically? It just doesn't work at all, and while some may be willing to handwave it as the result of Metal's insanity, I firmly believe it's more than possible to establish and delve into his inner madness in ways that DON'T contradict almost everything about him. A character being insane is not an excuse for turning them into a completely different character altogether, nor is it an excuse for just plain handling them in a shitty manner. By all means, I'm all for giving Metal a bigger role, and I'm all for expanding his character and his dynamic... just not like this.

Metal doesn't need to do all that in order to be effective and leave an impression. His portrayal in the OVA confirms that. OVA Metal was everything that Metal was known for at the time: straightforward, loyal, and silent, bar one line towards the end. And he still managed to be a very intriguing antagonist who served as a believably major threat, and who gave Sonic the fight of his life, and thus earned the hedgehog's disgruntled ire and his begrudging respect. That is the Metal that writers should aspire to. That is the essence of what makes that character.

So, despite everything, I still highly enjoy Metal Sonic when he's Metal Sonic, and not Something Vaguely Shaped Like Metal Sonic. He's stumbled a bit over the years, but when he's done right, he's always an eventful burst of fun, and ultimately, my fondness for those portrayals overrides my disgust towards elf shoes. And I'd love to see them expand on his dynamic with Eggman, which a certain well-liked series of shorts has thankfully given us a small taste of. Here's hoping the future will follow up on it...

“Now, if you may be so generous, hand over the Emerald slowly, or else I'm afraid your little friend will face the consequen-ooooowwwww my FUCKING wrist.”

Crusher Gives Metal Sonic a: Thumbs Up! (and Neo Metal Sonic a: Thumbs Down!)

[crazyfreckledginger]

Meeting At A Gala

This beautiful fanart

This fic includes Bruce Wayne (Batman), Alfred, Dick Grayson (Nightwing), Jason Todd (Red Hood), Tim Drake (Red Robin) and Damian Wayne (Robin).

——————————————————-

Your PoV

Gotham was not the most beautiful city I have been to. Not to mention the crime rate here. However, helping out The Dark Knight once in a while was comforting in a way. How did I meet him would you ask? Well, I saved his life a few times, yes believe it or not, and blurting out that I know his real identity, giving proof of my theory etc…

My thoughts were interrupted by little amounts of cold liquid falling from the sky. Looking up, I saw more and more raindrops falling from up above, falling on the streets and cars i was walking by. Shit I don’t have my umbrella, I thought. I paced faster, towards my apartment. Taking out the key before arriving at the front door, making sure not to slip, I bumped into a man. “Wach where ya goin’!” He howled before walking away. Wow that was rude, I thought, still looking at the figure disappearing into an alley. Unlocking the door, I made my way upstairs. After arriving at my apartment, I took a quick shower and put on some comfy clothes. I started walking towards the kitchen when a sound of metal hitting metal spread in the hallway. Looking towards the front door, I saw a few letters lying on the floor. Picking them up, I started opening them. Sighing while skimming through my electricity bills and my rent, I stopped at a fancier looking envelop. My name was inscribed on the front in cursive. Gently opening it, it looked somewhat like an invitation.

Bruce Wayne has the pleasure of inviting you to the official 2017 Wayne Gala. Each member present will increase the amount of money funded for charaties, most noticeably Gotham’s orphanage.    

This gala will include an all-you-can-eat buffet, champagne and much more.

P.s. Come in a fancy dress not your vigilante suit ;)   was written in a scrappier handwriting.

Batsy getting all fancy for a party, I thought smirking.

—————Time skip to a couple days later—————

Tonight was the night of the famous Gala and I decided to put on a fancy yet not too complicated red dress.  

I’m ready, how do I get there again? I sent by message to Bruce.

Alfred is coming to pick you up! he replied.

Since when do you know where I live? I asked, making sure to add a smiley face.

I needed to make sure you came home safely, wouldn’t want a teenage vigilante getting hurt do I? He asked adding a smirking smiley face.

Wow I never knew you would be so sarcastic! I texted.

Well I do have sarcastic sons, some more so than others, but I have picked up a few things along the way. You will be meeting them by the way! He wrote.

I suddenly became nervous What if they don’t like me? I thought. My train of thought was interrupted by a black limousine parking in front of my apartment.

Gotta go, my ride’s here! I quickly sent Bruce

Making sure that I had locked my apartment and taken my purse, I hurried downstairs.

“Hello Miss (Y/N)!” A elderly man with a British accent greeted.

“Hello Sir!” I greeted back.

“Oh please call me Alfred” He said warmly.

——-  Time skip to arriving at Wayne Manor——

It’s beautiful I whispered to myself, awestruck, upon entering the front gate.

Alfred kindly escorted me towards the large staircase to the immense mansion in front of me. I was welcomed by Bruce Wayne himself.

“Hello kid!” He smirked.

“Ok so first of all hello to you too, second of all do not call me that! How many times do I have to tell you, are you losing your mind old man?” I asked smirking back.

He laughed lightly at me and brought me inside. He guided me through numerous corridors made of marble towards a colossal ball room “Woah” I whispered. “So the drinks are in the far corner, the food on the opposite side and the bathroom in the room behind seating area” He directed me.

“There is so much food” I squealed excitedly.

“I know, hence why you are here, I know how much you love food”, he said cockly.

“Ooouh I’d say that hurt, but it didn’t!”  

Laughing, “Well I better get to welcome my business associates and other important guests!” he said, walking away, leaving me alone. I decided to wonder around a bit.

Jason PoV

“Ugh all of these people are so fake!” Tim moaned from across the table

“Shhhh! Don’t say it so loudly, people will here you!!” Dick shushed him.

“I hate to say this but Drake is right” Damian stated

“I’m bored” I pouted playing with the butterknife that was neatly placed on the table. Looking back up towards the crowd, “and there isn’t any decent looking wo–” I stopped when my gaze locked onto a young women in a red dress. My brothers looked back at me when I didn’t finish my sentence, then followed my gaze to the same young women.

“Woah” Tim and Dick said at the same time.

Snapping everyone out of their thoughts, I chirped up “I call dibs!!!” Before standing up and pacing to the women, my brothers quickly following behind me.

Your PoV

Looking at the men and women dancing in the ballroom made me feel sad and insecure. I finally decided to go get a drink.

“Would you care for a dance?” a voice spoke up.

Slowly turning around, a tall yet not too muscular man in a nice balck tuxedo and red tie was smiling at me. He had black hair and a white streak. Wow he’s handsome, I thought smiling. “Sure” I answered enthusiastically. Proposing his hand to me, I gladly took it whilst he guided me to the dancing area. Putting his spare hand around my waist and mine on his shoulder, we started dancing in sync. After a few minutes of dancing and looking deeply into each of our eyes.

“I’ve never seen you around here! Have you recently started working with Bruce Wayne?” he asked.

“Oh um no I don’t work for him, I’m a bit of a private detective and I’ve made a few investigations about him. It happened to be a misunderstanding. Nothing too serious and since then we have been friends.” I lied, suprising myself of how convincing I sounded.  

He hummed in response. Putting his forehead to mine, he mumbled “I never got your name!” He said looking straight into my eyes, the closeness making me blush.

(A/N: If y'all thinking I’m taking Paul Wesley as a Jason Todd then you’re wrong, wow that sounded violent, I’m sorry. It’s just the gif that shows what I am describing.)

“It’s (Y/N)” I smiled looking at the ground.

“And are you single?” he asked, hopeful.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” I asked shyly.

“Depends, is it working?” he answered looking for an answer in my eyes.

“I barely even know you and you’re already making a move on me?” I questioned.

“Well I can’t think logically when the most beautiful girl I have ever set my eyes upon is right in front of me!” He smirked.

Taking in a breath, I blushed a deep red and I looked at the ground with a shy smile.

3rd Person PoV

Jason examined (Y/N)’s actions Damn that’s cute!, he thought smiling back at her.

Back at the table, Dick, Tim and Damian observed the whole scene unfold before them.

“I can’t believe Todd got the girl before any of us, well except for Drake.” Damian argued.

Tim glared at his younger brother and retorted “Doesn’t suprise me you didn’t get her!”

Dick interrupted the raising fight by standing up.

“He’s leaning into her!!” He warned before racing towards them.

Your PoV

The man in front of me started leaning into me. What are you doing!! You don’t even know this guy’s name!!, I scolded myself. I suddenly put a finger to his lips to stop him from kissing me, making his eyes shoot open. Suddenly he was pulled away from me and I was met with a shorter black haired man with a blue tie. He had a similar body structure.

“Hi!!” He said with a goofy smile. “I’m Richard, or Dick for short (A/N: Short eyy!?).

”(Y/N)“ I whispered.

“Sorry about the quick change, that was my brother, he’s always looking for one night stands and stuff” he lied, looking everywhere but me.

“Riiiight” I agreed, unconvinced.

“So a dance?” He squeaked out.

3rd Person PoV

Jason joined the table pouting like a little baby whilst staring at (Y/N) and Dick.

“You look more like a kid than you usually do Todd!” Damian pointed out.

“Why would Dick do this to me!! I had the girl!” He criticised.

“Dick obviously wants the girl to himself” Tim stated.

“No shit!” Jason said sarcastically.

“Anyway he isn’t going to get her!” Damian informed.

Both brothers looked towads the youngest curiously.

“Obviously I’m the best suited to be with her. Being the blood son of Bruce Wayne and the best Robin” he said, whispering the last part.

“Riiight, whatever helps you sleep at night Demon” Jason mumbled whilst Tim rolled his eyes.

Your PoV

After half an hour of dancing and having a nice conversation chatting with Dick, I politely asked to leave, which he accepted.

Sipping some champagne from my glass. Truth be told I bribed Bruce into letting me drink, at least no one knows I’m underage.

“Aren’t you underage?” A younger man, if not boy asked, also with a glass of champagne, as if he read my thoughts.

“Kinda ironic coming from you don’t you think? You don’t exactly look 21 either.” I smirked.

“Touché!” He acted while raising his hands in the air. “A secret for a secret?” he asked.

“Sure!” I chuckled.

“Sooo, do you have a name?”

“(Y/N).” I said for the third time tonight.

“Tim!” He said enthusiastically.

A younger boy pulled up a chair next to me. I looked at him suspiciously.

“I’m Damian Wayne! I excuse the behavior of my brothers, they have always pursued women, except for Drake over here, no one would go out with him, which doesn’t surprise me. So don’t bother with him!” He informed.

“Oh no, you are all brothers?” I facepalmed.

“Yeah!” Tim said.

“God, I didn’t expect Bruce to introduce his sons this way!”

“You know Bruce? Personally?” Tim asked.

“Well not very personally, I work a night shift!” I said.

“Oooh! But-”

“She knows about us!” A familiar voice interrupted abruptly. Turning around I saw Bruce and the two men I danced with.

Dick and his brother sat at the same table as we did whilst Bruce explained who I was.

“So you lied to me?” The red tied man asked, acting hurt.

“Well, I didn’t know who you were did I? And I still don’t know your name except for Dick’s brother!” I teased.

“Todd, Jason Todd” He smirked, sounding like 007.

“No offense but you’re not cool enough to be a James Bond!” I teased again.

He gasped exaggeratedly.

“Wow (Y/N) I didn’t think you could get even sassier than you already are!” Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Get over it!” I mouthed. He chuckled before strolling away.

“So you’re going to work with us?” Tim asked.

“Maybe, well I don’t really do teams, maybe a partner but not much more than that! I’m willing to help out once in a while though!” I explained.

“Can I be your partner?” All four boys said simultaneously, then glared at each other.

I laughed, flattered by their interest.

“You can take turns?!” I suggested.

“Yes!!” They agreed.

Looking at my watch, wide-eyed, I said, “Yikes it’s getting late for me, I need to go, see you guys around!” I marched away.

“Wait!! I didn’t get your number!!” Jason yelled. Dick looked at him smirking as if to say why would she give it to you? “Well, how are we going to contact her?” He stated like the rest of his brothers were complete idiots. Soon enough, the three brother’s eyes widened and started running in the direction I was in, only to discover that I was gone.  

—–-———————————————-

A/N: First one shot up!! Let me know what you think about it!!

Tagging: @lumifuer

[satireknight]

S01E01: Turtle Tracks

So just for shits and giggles, I’ve decided to review and analyze every single episode of the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles series. Because I want to. There’s literally no deeper reason than that.

And of course, I’m starting at the very beginning, which I’m told is a very good place to start. 

So this episode... was really good. Pilots tend to suck, in my experience, because the series hasn’t yet figured out what’s going to work and what people are going to like. But this episode pretty much collects together a lot of the things people know about this series: April pursuing criminals at the expense of personal safety and always getting kidnapped, the Turtles kicking mook ass with censored abandon, pizzas that combine things you love in ways that nauseate you...

(Seriously, how do you have a sashimi pizza? Do you just make a pizza and then sprinkle raw fish on it once it’s finished cooking?) 

It’s also a very full episode. A LOT happens in this. You would think that introducing the Turtles, their personalities, their backstory and the main villain would take up most of the 20-minute plot, but there’s this whole arc of them investigating scientific robberies after being sorta-blackmailed into it by April, and ending up in a building that explodes from the water pressure.

The Plot

So our secondary character April O’Neil is a TV reporter talking about a crime wave of technobabbly equipment, which was apparently stolen by people using katanas. Why? Because they used katanas in a way you’re not supposed to use any sword, namely to hack a door open.

Seriously, that’s a job for a machete if it’s for anything. I’m just going to headcanon that this professor is just a big ninja fan and wants to attribute everything to them. Of course, April seems to think that there’s some overlap between being a reporter and being a cop, because investigative journalism doesn’t usually involve staking out dangerous places and trying to intercept criminals in the act.

But April’s reports rub someone the wrong way, and instead of sending a clan of ancient assassins to decapitate her at her apartment, they send some street thugs to confront her in the middle of a street. 

So she does what anyone would do: slips down a storm drain. I’m not even sure how she did that, because those things are pretty fucking narrow. April must have the bone structure of a cat.

Who needs clavicles anyway?

Or being alive, anyway, because her take on this is “This is great! I must really be onto something hot if they’re trying to kill me!” There’s such a thing as being too dedicated to your job, April. She manages to knock herself against a wall by not looking where she’s going, and the mooks are about to kill her when some inexplicably shadowed figures appear!

I can clearly see what they are, you know. Not to mention that the suspense is completely shot when we see this.

You don’t need to maintain the mystery anymore, okay? We can clearly see that whoever it is has green skin and only two toes. And has orange kneebands.

April’s saviors reveal themselves to be four enormous walking, talking humanoid turtles, and she promptly passes out from all the I-can’tness. Michelangelo’s hilarious response? “Awww, she’s no fun. She fainted!” I kinda love how in both this and the 2003 version, the first response to April freaking out is not giving a shit.

After waking, April then spends awhile freaking out over the fact that she’s in a sewer being waited on by Splinter, a giant rat, and that she was rescued by four turtles brandishing ninja weapons. Lots of screaming and fainting. The Turtles really don’t seem very invested in her thus far, because they’re pretty quick to switch over to “what’s for lunch?” ASAP, and when she finally speaks to them, Donatello and Raphael just snark at her.

One thing that really sticks out when you watch this from the beginning is that it’s actually pretty serious. Sure, there’s silliness in places, but the characters are a lot less goofy than they often became later in the series. Even Michelangelo handles all this in a pretty reasonable, adult manner.

Splinter decides to unload their backstory by way of introduction: Hamato Yoshi, the leader of the Foot ninja clan in Japan, whose entire life seems to be one big crapstorm. One of his students, Oroko Saki, decided to frame him for attempted assassination by pinning his clothes to the wall so he couldn’t bow to a venerable sensei. And when Yoshi pulled out the knife so he could move, they assumed that the guy who was clearly pinned to the wall before, and is now staring in confusion at the knife, must be trying to kill the old coot. Apparently the Foot has a high idiot quotient.

So Yoshi did what any normal person would do: he moved across the world, lived in a sewer, and made friends with all the rats. What? It’s what I’d do.

He also ended up with four pet turtles after some kid tripped and spilled them down a drain, and apparently didn’t bother calling up to see if the owner was still there. Eh, the guy’s entire life is a craphole, so I’ll allow it.

We’re also informed that in Japan, Oroku Saki turned the Foot into a criminal organization. We’re TOLD this, but will never be shown it, because I don’t think we see a single other Foot ninja after this in the entire series, and certainly none working for him. Where did they go?

So anyway, Yoshi continues living in the sewers until one day life decides to take one last dump on him: a mysterious glowy stuff is leaked into his home, getting all over him and the Turtles. 

Is there a reason Michelangelo is spinning his chucks right behind her head? Is that some kinda low-level intimidation technique? Because I don’t think it’s working.

The Turtles become more humanlike in intelligence and body, and Yoshi became a mutant rat, aka Splinter.

Wait, so they mutated right into their teen bodies? Does that mean that they’re teenagers biologically but not in terms of chronological age?

April figures out that Splinter is actually Hamato Yoshi, ratified and having lost his pants. Seriously, they just kind of shrink up into his kimono when he mutates. I don’t know where they went, because logically they should have been down around his toes.

And since we’ve established that Splinter is a person of weird impulses, he decided to name the Turtles after his favorite Renaissance painters (what was he calling them before?), and teach them ninjutsu fighting techniques. Because if anyone knows how much other people suck, it’s Splinter. And that was when he was human! Imagine how much worse they would suck when you’re half-animal.

So we have:

-Donatello, the purple-masked one, whose weapon is a large stick he hits people with.

-Raphael, the red-masked one, who has a pair of sai. I should probably mention that those are defensive rather than offensive weapons, but whatever.

-Leonardo, the blue-masked one, who fights with two katanas.

-Michelangelo, the orange-masked one, who has nunchaku... for the moment.

I kinda love Splinter’s open title-drop, especially since I’m not sure whether he planned to change it. Like, if another five or so years, is he going to call them the Twentysomething Mutant Ninja Turtles? 

April does the smartest thing she can possibly do by accusing four guys who effortlessly mopped the floor with a street gang of having stolen all that tech, declares her intention of exposing them as “news,” and makes a run for it. Yes, you just watched a guy polishing his literal sword in front of you, which you have seen him use, and another guy was whirling a nunchuck behind your head. By all means, call them thieves and threaten to do the one thing they can’t possibly allow.

Oh, and we get a fun prelude of things to come: Donatello springs in front of her... and talks with Raphael’s voice for several seconds. No, I don’t know how it happened.

TO BE CONTINUED

[rainbows-of-mystery]

The Heart Caught in the Web

At the address 221b Baker Street in London, England resides The Sherlock Holmes Museum, a location for fanatics of the Sherlock Holmes books by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. “Holmesians” as they are sometimes called, come in all different varieties, from the mildly deranged ones who simply really like the stories to those who have structured their lives around the renowned adventures of Sherlock Holmes the Consulting Detective and his companion Dr. John Watson. The stories have, of course, inspired many different reactions and life-styles, however some are perhaps a bit more extreme.

Take Maggie Hart, a modern Holmesian and beginning murder mystery writer. Her love of the stories has lead her down the path of creativity and sitting around all day thinking up ways to kill people. Naturally, her internet history is... suspicious to anyone who is not aware of her profession, but then again, she’s not the only one, but we’ll get to that later. At this moment, a new mystery novel is on the shelf due to Miss Hart, it won’t draw huge crowds, but at least she has a small following, not really enough to pay rent in London alone, though. Which is why Maggie is left in her flat wondering who would want to share a home with a person who possesses such morbid thoughts as she because her roommate, Amy has just moved out to live with her fiance and her rent is not exactly cheap. Standing in her kitchen, she is chopping something or another for a sort of experiment she’s running to test a thought she had about a murder method to include in a story some day. Unfortunately, aside from new methods with which to off people, she’s stock out of ideas for stories and she has little to no inspiration or motivation. She loves writing but, what with her current dilemma, she’s too busy trying to make herself write to actually write anything of worth. So there she stands in her kitchen, dark rusty colored hair tumbling forward in a messy bun, decked out in a purple bathrobe, dull green shirt, and striped pyjama pants, evergreen eyes transfixed by the knife in her pale cinnamon colored hand as she contemplates an end to her writing career. After all, what good is a writer with no ideas? As she begins to drift off further into the land of thought she’s interrupted from her musings by a cat wrapping itself around her calf. Startling a bit, she glances downward at her golden-brown striped tabby, Honeybee, smiles affectionately at the goofy fuzz-ball, sets down her knife, and leans over to lend her attention to “her darling little fluff-nugget” who, in turn, purrs affectionately.

“Honeybee, what do you think? How will I manage? I could try to find a new flatmate, but even Amy didn’t really enjoy sharing this place with me and she and I have known each other forever! Oh well...”

At that particular moment, she remembered that she always felt most inspired in the library, and elected to head down to the nearest one. After re-dressing in outside-world appropriate attire, gathering her writing supplies in her bag, saying goodbye to Honeybee, snagging a cab to her favorite library, and arriving at said library, she immediately headed to the section of the library in which she knew the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle were kept. It was wandering this section that she bumped into a woman slightly taller than herself with striking light blue eyes, medium-brown boy-cut hair with a dramatic swish over her forehead, and slightly darkish skin with a golden tint to it which she observed was holding a Holmes book, wearing very masculine formal-looking clothing consisting of black trousers, a black vest with gold buttons matching her stud earrings, and, ironically, an extremely pale pink dress shirt, and looking as transfixed by her as she was by the stranger. She was snapped out of her assessment by a crisp, clear, and otherwise alluring low female voice.

“You are that mystery writer, Maggie Hart, are you not? You enjoy the Holmes stories like myself, I can tell in your novels that you were at least inspired by Sir Doyle’s works, the style is very reminiscent of his and you are very knowledgeable in your murder methods, explaining logic and reasoning expertly as if you can enter the minds of both murderers and detectives. In your bio you said that you own a cat, or rather it owns you as one cannot really own a cat, I see this is true by the cat hairs on your legs, a golden-brown color it would seem, most probably tabby would be my guess as you seem far too reasonable to purchase a persian and the furrs are far too short for one anyway, so tabby it is. You appear to be stressed, I can tell from the dark circles under your eyes, either that or you just don’t sleep well anyway, but no, you also are acting anxious, you seem in a rush, and your hair is also messy, so yes, stressed. You once wrote in a forenote in a book, Scarlet Honey, I believe, that you go to the library to find new ideas, so you’re short on ideas right now. I expect you are looking for a Holmes story or something like it although, there is really nothing truly like it, so I’ll get out of your way. My name is Eliza Webb, by the way, nice to meet you.” the stranger had announced, rapidly increasing the speed of her speech as her voice elegantly lilted in a vaguely Irish fashion.

The fascinating stranger then walked away leaving Maggie dazed, flushed, and struggling to catch up with what was going on, when her mind finally caught up, she turned right around and tried to locate the alluring woman with which she had, in a manner of speaking, just acquainted herself. However Eliza was already long gone, and so she attempted to move on with her prescribed activities, trying to put the entirely out-of-place interaction behind her, thinking that dwelling on the fleeting moment would do no good as London is a location of considerable size and she would likely never meet Eliza again. She retrieved some Holmes novels of her favorites and plopped down in a comfortable seat and began her process of reading, jotting ideas down, and bopping gently along to her calm lyric-less music which she listened to by way of headphones and smartphone. Or, she would have, if not for her spinning thoughts of the fascinating individual she’d met just moments ago. Really, this Eliza Webb was going to be occupying her thoughts until her petty little obsession passed on to far more likely candidates of relation. Still, the voice echoed in the back of her mind, and after sitting there for needless amounts of time without actually doing anything, Maggie resigned herself to returning the books and heading home to Honeybee.

The next day she returned to the library, feeling considerably more focused than she had the previous afternoon. She had managed to actually jot some reasonably okay ideas down and was returning her books when, yet again, she happened upon Eliza Webb. Feeling accomplished and therefore considerably more confident with herself she smiled brightly at the fascinating woman who, in turn, proceeded to look very much confused and even a little frightened. That was, however, soon replaced with a contemplative look as she cleared her throat and spoke.

“You’re back again, so you must be really strained for ideas, but you look more cheerful today so you must have gotten something worked out.” Eliza perceptively announces, then contemplatively tilts her head. “I wonder why you feel so obligated to write so soon after a new publication? Short on money? That would explain that, but I wonder why? It could be-” at which point, a confident Maggie interjected.

“Roommate moved out. I’ve rent to pay and a cat to look after, and I live in London.”

“Which would explain your insistence upon working despite the fair success of your current book, great stuff, by the way, loved it. I wonder why you don’t just find a new flatmate, though. Can’t be hard for someone of your astute character.” Now Maggie was definitely enraptured by this person, no getting out of it, she’d be stuck for a while. Then she remembered that this person knew her so little that they genuinely believed that locating a new flatmate would be easy for her.

“Well actually... um...” was Maggie’s attempt at explaining her situation.

“You’re a writer, so you’ve probably got odd habits.” Eliza astutely interjected, helpfully supplying a simple explanation of her problem.

“Yeah.” Maggie affirmed lamely. Falling back on her previous discomfort with her life. When Eliza’s crisp voice interjected and drew her back out.

“Hmm... you’re a writer, in fact, a murder mystery writer, a good one too. You say you need a flatmate?” Maggie just nods in response, a bit too preoccupied by trying to work out what was going on to actually articulate anything like verbal language. “Well, I myself have been looking for a place to stay, I just moved out of a shared space with a person who irritates me more than I’d care to think, but I’ve got a fairly good understanding of you from your writing, so I think we’d get on just fine.” Okay, Maggie was definitely lost now, yesterday she’d met a fascinating, amazing, alluring person, and today said person was inquiring as to the possibility of sharing a residence due to her, apparently, agreeable personality.

“Um... uh...” Maggie lamely verbalized her current thoughts.

“It’s okay if you’re not sure yet, we’re not exactly properly acquainted yet.” Eliza reassured Maggie, when she was struck by a bit of genius. “How about dinner?”

“What?” Maggie questions, bewildered and sure she’d misheard.

“Dinner. We can eat and get to know one another properly, perhaps discuss interests and arrangements.” Her head swimming, Maggie almost felt she was about to fall over, but if this alluring woman wanted to have dinner with her, who was she to argue?

“Alright then.” she said hesitantly.

Eliza’s face visibly lit up and she grabbed Maggie by the arm and rushed her out of the library to some unknown location of dining. When they reached their destination, it was one of Chinese food. She wasn’t quite sure how Eliza could have predicted that she’d been in the mood for that particular genre of cuisine lately, but resigned herself to acknowledging that perhaps Eliza was just that perceptive. It was only once they’d sat that awkwardness seemed to settle in, at least on Maggie’s part. Then her curiosity got the better of her and so she asked.

“So... what do you do with that cleverness of yours? You said you were a Holmes fan, I’m assuming it’s something related to that?” Eliza looked a little embarrassed, possibly a lot, and began to look around nervously before settling herself and looking intently at Maggie.

“Ah yes, well... it may be silly of me, but I’ve decided that I’m a consulting detective, I try to be anyway. Really, I’m more of a Private Detective. I’m not all that good, honestly. Nothing like Holmes.” Suddenly Maggie looked altogether up-in-arms and energized.

“Nonsense! You are quite clever! I saw it on both occasions I met you, you are very talented, you read me like a book! Truly! Perhaps you wouldn’t be any kind of a rival to Holmes, but you are certainly cleverer than you seem to think! You’re absolutely amazing!”

Anyone watching this exchange would have seen Maggie getting more and more animated and Eliza getting more and more flushed. By the end of Maggie’s outburst, she was alight with passion and practically glowing, and Eliza’s cheeks, nose, and ears were burning red and she appeared to glow in a completely different way. Eliza, entirely embarrassed by being excessively complemented by a favorite author of hers and a person she greatly admired, turned her head to the side to hide her face and cleared her throat before forcing down her blush and turning back around, intent on diverting the conversation to discussion of living arrangements in the hopes of distraction from her embarrassment and the potential of further contact with this delightful person.

“So um... you er... if we’re to share a residence, which would appear to suit both our needs, um... you wouldn’t um... have any erm... significant other over on a regular basis would you? That would be... irritating for me, to say the least. Get in the way of my work.” Eliza stuttered inelegantly.

“Oh! Nonono! I’ve not got anyone! Um... what about you, I would be surprised if someone of your figure and mind didn’t have someone.”

“Oh uh..... I’m not really... um...” Recognizing how utterly lost for words Eliza looked, Maggie decided to simplify things for the brilliant wonder.

“So you haven’t a boyfriend?” Eliza wore an expression of confusion, which quickly slipped into one of distaste.

“Boyfriend... no, not really my...” she flutters her left hand around in a circular motion, searching for the proper wording “glass of tea...” She finished as best she could, given the topic of discussion at hand. Maggie felt she had a feeling what was going on, and she instantly became very interested.

“Do you have a girlfriend, then? Which is fine, by the way.” Eliza flushed, looking quite shocked to be asked that particular question, but recovered quickly and replied in a mostly even voice.

“Good to know you think it’s fine but, no, I’ve not, I’m not really much the dating type.” Maggie wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that, but decided to drop it for now.

They ended up both eating a considerable amount and settled into very natural and interesting conversation. By the end of the evening, both decided that they were very much liking the other’s company, and Maggie had all but said that she’d be delighted if Eliza moved in with her. When they ended up going their separate ways, because Maggie had, swept up in the joy of conversation, failed to mention that Eliza could move in, Maggie headed back home and felt a combination of pleasantly exhausted and absolutely giddy as she spoke aloud to Honeybee about the amazing Eliza Webb whose mobile number was now in her smartphone.

The following morning, Maggie awoke unusually well-rested and smiling, flipped on the news to discover that apparently there had been a murder in her favorite library. Immediately tuning in, she discovered upon further listening that the murder had taken place in her favorite section, too, next to the Holmes stories, with ‘Rache’ written on the bookshelf nearby in what initially looked like blood, imitating A Study in Scarlet, but was actually written in red ink. Then her phone rang, and she was called in as a suspect due to her having been in that particular section for both of the two previous days, her being a known Holmes fanatic, and her aforementioned suspicious and murder-y internet history. She’d been asked many questions as to her whereabouts the previous evening and ended up sitting in the station long after they actually finished questioning her, mostly because their main two suspects’ only alibi was that they’d been in each other’s company. Incidentally, Eliza had been called in for questioning, too, mainly due to similar reasoning. Eventually the police released them, and they ended up going out to early lunch together and discussing the mysterious Holmesian-based murder that Eliza was determined to solve.

“So what do you think of all this?” Maggie enthusiastically inquired to Eliza over her Reuben Sandwich and Chips.

“The murder? Oh it’s a fascinating business, isn’t it? It was likely done by a fellow Holmesian, although one who followed a slightly different path than you or I. Truly a fascination. Do you know of anyone in this area who holds the Holmes stories to that level of regard?”

“Afraid not, London is a place of considerable size.”

“So it is... “ Eliza seemed a bit discouraged before suddenly looking rather alight. “Oh!” she exclaimed in a manner that Maggie would be trying for a long time to forget “If one of us was to take to the internet and post something ludicrous to draw out our homicidal Holmesian then-!” Eliza was beginning to draw the eyes of a few fellow patrons with her loudly spoken potential strategies.

“-Eliza,” Maggie interrupted cautiously and gently “has it occurred to you, that perhaps the murderer was not at all a Holmes fan and that the inclusion of Holmesian references is an elaborate distraction? A red herring, if you will?” she finished just as delicately, making an effort to not upset the fairly obviously self-conscious Eliza.

Eliza looked shocked, she tried to stutter out a response before resigning herself to thinking about it. After a long, and, for Maggie, excruciating, moment, she seemed to reach some form of clarity.

“Oh.” Eliza quietly began, her voice calm and subdued “Thank you for pointing out that possibility, my mind began to run away with me...” she briefly trailed off, then remembered her earlier ideas and mentally cringed at her beginner's mistake of just assuming the relevance of a detail. “Sorry for, you know, going off on a random rant of-” she had begun to pick up volume again when Maggie kindly interjected.

“Shhh... It’s fine, I like your ideas, I just thought I’d give you my thought before you got too into yours.”

“Oh.” Eliza smiles gently, eyes sparkling, because she really was right about this Maggie Hart, together they’d make a great duo. Maggie smiles back, glad that’s settled and moves on to another vein of conversation.

“Would you like to meet Honeybee?” Maggie says, voice quiet, but not in a self-conscious way, but in a private and intimate way, this is important, too important to include strangers in it.

“Wha...?” Eliza looks dazed, she’d not seen that coming, Honeybee was almost certainly her cat. Meeting her cat would entail visiting to her residency. Was this a subtle way to let her know that Maggie was open to the idea of living together? With that affectionate sparkle in her eyes, slightly anxious facial expression, and slight redness to her cheeks that would seem to be the case. That was plenty to process. “Hum.” Eliza contemplatively audiated. She was a bit worried about this part, what if ‘Honeybee’ hated her? What if she managed to mess something else up? Oh dear. Oh goodness. What if Maggie decided not to let her move in? Oh, even worse. What if Maggie stopped talking to her altogether? She’d seen Maggie in that section of the library before, and she’d recognized her, but never said anything until two days prior to this one. She’d never had the courage before. I mean, Maggie had plenty of people who followed her works, true, not an outrageous sum, but still, she had a name for herself, Eliza was just a nerd who plays at detective. Breath, breath, breath. It’s fine. Eliza promised herself she’d be fine. She may have been lying... Breath. Okay. Eliza looked up at an expectant and increasingly nervous Maggie and nodded slightly. Maggie breathed out her relief in a gust of nerves and looked much more serene afterwards.

“Come on then, you’ve already finished your salade. I’m just done with my sandwich. Let’s call a waiter, get payment sorted, and head out.” Maggie resolutely uttered, ready to be on her way. They did just that, heading out faster than would have been anticipated from any other establishment. Maggie insisted on paying for Eliza’s meal, and after having overheard some chattering staff refer to them as “a cute couple” Eliza was too stunned by the universe to argue.

Eliza resolutely paid no mind to Maggie taking her arm and leading her to her flat which was, apparently, within walking distance. Eliza resolutely didn’t notice the light blush on Maggie’s face when she did this. Maggie resolutely didn’t blush when she, in a surge of confidence due to overheard chatter of being a perceived as a couple, took Eliza by the arm. Maggie resolutely hadn’t observed Eliza resolutely not looking at her. Resolutely, the two of them made their way to their, hopefully, future location of shared residence in the most platonic way possible.

“Honeybee, I’m home!” Maggie called out to a charming and cozy flat as the two of them entered, Eliza’s arm finally falling from Maggie’s grip. Maggie was about to go look for her silly little feline when a small-ish bundle of cuteness, energy, and fluff skittered around a corner and across the floor at top speed to the sound of an excited Maggie shouting “High speed kitten!!!” with unnecessary levels of volume. Maggie met the fuzz-ball halfway and greeted her with soft coos of ‘Hey Honeybee.’, ‘My little drop of sunshine.’, and other assorted phrases, voice oozing with affection as Eliza looked on awkwardly from where she still stood at the door. Eliza was lost for what to do. She desperately wanted to keep Maggie in her life, but also the little being of pure softness a few feet from her was irresistibly adorable, flawlessly causing a swell of affection in her heart upon first sighting and she very much wanted not to mess things up with that lovely creature either.

“Erm...” vocalizing her discomfort, Eliza decided to collect herself and do as she normally would when acquainting herself with a small fluff creature. Slowly lowering herself to the floor, she began gently cooing cat summoning phrases in what she hoped was an affectionate and attractive tone.

Honeybee, a friendly creature that was, rightfully so, shy around strangers, was strangely enraptured by this stranger. This new person certainly seemed kind. Possessing of a rather lulling voice, too. Honeybee hesitated for just a breath longer, glancing up at her caretaker before elegantly striding across the room to this alluring stranger, her tail gently swishing back in forth in the air in unhideable excitement.

Maggie was genuinely surprised when her normally fearful Honeybee strode right up to Eliza, then proceeded to sniff Eliza’s palm-down outstretched hand and immediately butted her head against it for petting. When Eliza started petting Honeybee gently and Honeybee started crawling on top of Eliza as her new friend giggled joyously Maggie felt a swell of affection in her heart. Maggie wondered why she was ever worried in the first place. Of course they’d get along. Both of them chose her of all people, they must have similar taste.

After watching the heartwarming interaction for a few minutes she stood up and walked over to her couch, sitting down and patting the space next to her, calling to Honeybee who looked up excitedly and skittered over to her, awkwardly hopping up onto the surface and plopping herself down on Maggie’s lap after making sure she still made a proper pincushion. Maggie absentmindedly stroked Honeybee as she looked over to a beaming Eliza and made a beckoning gesture at her.

“Eliza, would you like to live here together? I can help you solve cases and we can look after Honeybee and... yeah. Would you?” Maggie tried to sound confident, but she was desperately trying not to pour out her heart too much. Eliza sat down in the seat next to her, reached over and petted Honeybee once, then retracted her hand to set it in the space directly next to Maggie’s idle one, turned to Maggie, brightly but nervously smiling, hopefulness dancing in her sky blue eyes, and spoke, in a warm voice, the mood of the room taking a sharp turn, the energy between them seeming to buzz.

“Yes, I think I rather would.” Eliza uttered quietly, almost as if she were afraid something would break if she spoke louder, gently nudging her pinky finger against Maggie’s, and both stomach’s swooped uncomfortably in unison, they smiled at each other.

“Good, then.” Maggie said, just as quiet, and perhaps a little dreamily. “Miss Eliza, do you have a girlfriend?” Maggie said maintaining the delicacy and volume, but with slight cheekiness slipping into her voice, having finally riddled Eliza out.

“Would you like me to?” Eliza gently shot back in playfulness.

“Depends.” Maggie definitely understood now. A silence set between them for a bit, both of them beaming at each other. Eliza was the one who re-started the conversation.

“Why, are you offering?” Eliza gently teased.

“Depends.” Maggie teased back.

“On what.” Eliza had a teasing tone even though she was starting to feel a bit uncertain about how this would actually go.

“Whether you would accept the offer or not.” Oh yes, that was good, Eliza could relax, it was all fine.

“Yes, I think I rather would.” Eliza replied openly, teasing tone slipping away as she let herself be genuine, her hand slipping fully over Maggie’s.

“Good, then. Would you join me for dinner tomorrow?”

“Oh yes. Would you like to help me with this case? I could use you on it.” Eliza really did need Maggie, when Eliza ran off with a thought, Maggie gently caught her before she got too far, as evidenced by earlier.

“Oh yes. Would you be okay with it if I wrote about it later?” Maggie was sure that writing about Eliza would give her a never-ending supply of inspiration. Eliza would make a perfect muse for her writing.

“Oh yes. I love your works.” A smirk crept onto Maggie’s face at that, had she been on Eliza’s radar long before Eliza was ever on hers?

“Oh. Really? Are you a fan of mine, then?” Eliza smiled slyly at Maggie as she pulled out her phone and flicked into her notes on the case. She began to settle into reading off her notes and ideas about possible meanings and leads as Maggie listened along, nodding to things that she agreed with and pulling Eliza back to reality when she began to drift off from reality a bit. Maggie just knew she’d have so much writing material later that day and on into the future.

[ryanonwrasslin-blog]

Fast Lane 2017

SaSo, at some point over the weekend I saw a conversation taking place online about the coverage of wrestling and how so much of it is just shitting all over WWE’s product, especially the flagships itself like Monday Night Raw and the Big 4 PPV’s. And it struck me in that moment how miserable of a fan I’d become of something that I’d originally gotten into because it was fun in all of the best, most ridiculous ways.

So I’m here today because I want to hold myself to account on not being such a miserable fucking wrestling fan all the time, and my method for doing that is to write about wrestling. I’ve tried this before but it was mostly aimless ramblings. I’m hoping that this viewpoint to add a certain amount of structure to my wrasslin’ thoughts.

Long-term, I’m hoping for this to be a weekly thing (maybe every Thursday after all the week’s big shows have been aired), but as I’m excited about this, I thought I’d dive right in fresh after Fast Lane last night. Surely the PPV right smack in the middle of THE ROAD TO WRESTLEMANIA will be an easy win for someone trying to be optimistic about wrestling, right?

Right?

Oh God.

/Huffs Paint

Alright, let’s do this...

Theme of the Night:

Who is this show for, exactly?

I know, my supposed optimism lasted to the first sentence. But I swear, I’m going to go through this in a way that isn’t just shitting on the product. All I could think after that main event was, who exactly is this particular show for?

I know Wrestlemania is for the largest crowd possible, and there were obvious steps taken tonight to work toward that, but if you take this show in isolation, and I do think when you are a company dependent on monthly subscriptions you have to view it that way to a certain degree, I’m left feeling very confused about that show.

Was anyone happy to see Sasha basically cheat Bayley to a win? Were the months of booking BRAAAAAAAAAAUN as an all-time monster worth it for an L to Strong Roman at Fast Lane of all places? Did it help anyone for Kevin Owens to look like an idiot and lose in two moves to Goldberg? Did it help Goldberg to win like that? Did any of that bizarre Cesaro/ Jinder/ Handsome Rusev/ Big Show business help even one of them? Sasha rolling up Nia when a strong breeze ought to be able to knock Sasha off balance? New Day Ice Cream? I really struggled to understand the logic behind any of this booking.

Alright, I don’t want to do too much of this negativity, and this show wasn’t all terrible, so let’s get to the next segment I want to run.

Top 10 Moments of the Night:

10. Big E is a weird dude in all the best ways

9. Seriously, we’ve got to be close to a Handsome Rusev Face Turn, right? - He tried to help poor Jinder revive his career, most of his feuds have revolved around defending his wife’s honor, and then last night Jinder gets in his face and shows no respect for the only guy to give him a chance since he was in 3MB, then plays valiant babyface-in-peril against Big Show, who then hits like 11 finishing moves on Rusev for no apparent reason. Oh, and he’s the fucking man in the ring. Handsome Rusev face turn, please and thank you.

8. SmoJo’s Coquina Clutch - Man I love that old-school move.

7. No more “Queen of PPV” nonsense - I really thought they’d keep that going, but thank God they didn’t. It was such a stupid catchphrase.

6. Sasha getting to look like an actual wrestler again - I’ve gone round and round and round in my personal rankings of the 4 Horsewomen (At present it goes Charlotte, Becky, Sasha, Bayley), and the way they’ve booked Sasha as a fragile baby-person has started to bleed into my perception of her. Nia still whooped her ass pretty good but she pulled off a crafty win and didn’t need to be like life-flighted out afterwards. That was a good step for her. And her next big step should be hitting a Backstabber on Bayley the night after Wrestlemania and giving us that sweet, sweet heel turn.

5. BRAAAAAAAAAAAUN vs. Strong Roman (until the finish) - This was an even better effort by Strowman than that really fun Big Show match a few weeks ago. It was the best match of his career. And honestly, I feel a tiny bit bad for Roman at this point. They just keeping making the strangest booking calls with this dude and all the while he’s keeps showing the ability to have an excellent match with just about anyone on the roster.

4. Charlotte’s in-ring taunts - Charlotte is downright loathsome in the ring. It’s infuriating and annoying and frustrating and it’s The Best. She has honed herself to a fine point as a heel in the ring.

3. A taste of SmoJo vs. Sami Zayn - I’d hoped they’d give these two like 15 electric minutes, but was also expecting them to ultimately make Joe into the Destroyer. They definitely chose the latter, but these two both play their roles so well, Joe as the asshole who just wants to beat the shit out of you and Zayn as the underdog who just needs an opening, that it was still a good match, and some day we’ll see those go 20+ minutes for big-time stakes and it will kick all kinds of ass.

2. Kevin Owens’ stall tactics - I’m a sucker for wrestlers incorporating strategy and tactics into their wrestling. It makes it feel so much more real and can help explain the changes in Win/Loss record over the years. This was a great example of those tactics.

1. Neville vs. Jack Gallagher - Unquestionably the match of the night. I went into this match badly craving a Neville squash, but WWE did right by goofy-ass Jack Gallagher and gave these two 12 minutes of fun wrestling. More of this in the Cruiserweights and less of Brian Kendrick doing the Captain’s Hook for 3 minutes at a time, please.

Let the Smark Out

Look, no one’s perfect and a 5:1 ratio of Optimism to Pessimism seems acceptable to me. And it’s just not healthy to keep my issues inside. That shit needs to get out and breathe a bit, you know? It took a lot of thought to figure out my two, though. However, WWE made it clear pretty early on when Steph was screeching at Foley that only two matches actually mattered, so let’s go with those two.

-Bayley cheats her way to a win - Ahh yes, the old trope of the biggest, most natural babyface character being helped by her tweener friend and former rival to victory over the heel who voluntarily fought without her lieutenant at ringside. I see no issues with this logic at all. Sometimes you’re booked into a corner, but this was just blatant malpractice against everything they built for Bayley’s character for years. Just baffling all around.

-You know what the other is. KO stalls and stalls to wear out Goldberg’s peaking intensity, a very smart tactic that shows he’s put tremendous thought into this match and that he’s a student of wrestling. But then the most obvious development ever occurs with a returning Y2J’s music hitting and KO getting distracted, Goldberg hitting his two moves and pinning him in under a minute. I knew it was coming, I suppose, but it was still a kick right in the balls. Sigh...

Where Do We Go From Here?

For my penultimate segment, I want to talk about what is often my favorite part of wrestling: Where things are going next. I’ll do my best to mostly steer away from fantasy booking things to hell, but that will be part of it.

I’m excited about not having anymore PPV’s leading to Mania. No more farting around and holding back, they’ve got to start building to the biggest matches and one of the things I’m most interested in seeing develop is whatever is going on with Triple H. There still seems to be legitimate uncertainty about Seth Rollins, and a couple weeks ago it seemed like maybe Trips was behind KO turning on Jericho, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they were setting up some kind of action with Trips, KO, and SmoJo. Add to all of this that it would make sense for a returning Finn Balor to oppose such a faction, and some of these questions need to start getting answered.

In other news, we seem almost certain to be heading toward a Fatal Four Way for the women’s title, probably a pre-show multi-team Tag Title match, and we should be getting some fun Jericho-KO segments.

That leaves me uncertain how they’ll build to Roman vs. Taker, what they’re going to do with Strowman, if Shaq will show up for the Big Show match, and if this weird Mick Foley vs. Steph feud will lead to Foley being fired and how soon they might pull that particular trigger and if it will have ripple effects elsewhere.

Parting Thought

It’s obvious now that Goldberg can’t actually wrestle a match. If he could, they would have given him and KO at least a couple minutes before Y2J came out, right? To me, that means there’s no way they can actually put that match on last. No one is going to be hyped for a Lesnar/ Goldberg match that likely can’t go past 5 minutes and has a decent chance of being a mess.