#Where Did the Rosers Go?

[falconertf2]

(continued from here)

The younger foreigners were welcome to stay up later, going for another round, but the hour draws too late for some of the locals.  A few patrons shuffle into the bar, carrying their glasses to give them to the bartender and clear their tabs.  Some others wander off down the cobblestone streets, glasses left on tables, calling their farewells.  Perhaps they had paid ahead of time, or perhaps there was some long-standing agreement with the bartender-- either way, nobody seems concerned and Andreu raises no alarm or calls any corrections or demands. The bartender is a robust man in his late forties, and he carries himself with the duality of purpose of a much younger man: alert for something to happen while resigned to the fact that nothing ever has and likely never will.  He collects glasses and pesetas or céntimos, saying his good nights to the people he seems to have known for the whole of his life.  Aella notes the spark of genuine interest in his eyes when she returns to the bar.  They’d chatted yesterday a little, and she’d gleaned that he had left this village as a younger man, but had been forced to return to take care of ‘family matters’.  He hungered for what lay beyond.  She could relate, except she wasn’t sure anything could drag her back to where she’d started... Passing both glasses across the bar she exchanges the brief pleasantries she hadn’t had time to during her first round when more people demanded Andreu’s attention and one of her company demanded much more of hers.  His answers are equally surface-level: the night is going well, his family is fine.  What he’s interested in, however, is the fact that she’s seated with the other foreigner-- the one with the hat.  Did they know each other? Answering truthfully that they had only first met tonight, just now, Aella orders a beer for the both of them, paying for both and closing out her tab.  She can see that the bartender has more questions, but they will have to wait.  Chances were good that he would save them for Aella’s acquaintance, Roser or her husband Màxim, whose house she was staying in.  Collecting the drinks in fresh glasses, she returns to Mr. Mundy, handing him his beer before seating herself again, satisfied that she had only been gone some minutes. “The locals are curious,” She informs him with a grin, “you and I are the biggest news this village has seen for awhile...” @necklace-of-teeth​

[melbournenewsvine]

The accused murderer claims that his friend who turned into an informant carried out the murder

On Thursday, Rosser took to the podium. He said Graham first devised a plot to kill Saunders in May 2017. From left: Peter Koenig, Greg Roser and Sharon Graham. It is alleged that the initial plan involved Rosser shooting Saunders at his home on the Sunshine Coast while Graham was away. Graham, who was living in the house with Saunders, allegedly gave written instructions to Roser, a gun, and access to the house through a remote garage door. “I didn’t think she was serious at all,” Roser said. “I said, ‘I’m not really going to do this.'” “Then she started screaming and screaming, so I took the gun and calmed her down.” Roser said the second plot involved shooting Saunders as he arrived at work at an IGA supermarket. He said Graham gave him details of Saunders’ shifts, his car, and where to park. “It was serious this time… I was really worried and I feel really bad,” Roser said. Rosser then recounted Saunders’ death. The scene of the alleged 2017 crime at the property in Jumporian, 150 kilometers north of Brisbane.attributed to him:Nine Queensland News – Twitter He claimed he had not seen him, but on the night of November 12, he was carrying boughs to feast on the woodcutter and saw Saunders slung over the dining table. Then Koenig appeared and asked Roser what had happened. “It has now been done. You must help me put him in the lumberjack,” said Roser Koenig. After covering Saunders’ body, Rosser said he and Koenig devised a web of lies to tell the police. “I was thinking, ‘How did you get involved in something like this?'” Roser said. “ In cross-examination of witnesses, Crown Prosecutor David Meredith questioned Rosser’s decisions. Meredith: “Why would you go on with a woman you just met, who immediately asked you to kill someone you don’t know?” loading Roser: “She was so kind to me and made me feel important.” Meredith: “But what are you telling us she’s a hateful murderous woman?” Roser: “I honestly didn’t think she was serious about it.” Meredith: “She gave you detailed instructions on how to get into [Saunders’] The house, where Bruce is located, and when he does it. What part of this doesn’t convince you that she’s serious? “ Roser: “I knew to myself I wouldn’t do that.” Meredith: “Why didn’t you go to the police with that information?” Roser: “Because I honestly thought that everything would fall apart. Every time I turned it down [Graham]You’ll start to calm down a bit… Not only that, I was afraid of getting killed because of Peter [Koenig’s] [Mafia] links.” The trial, now in its fourth week, will continue into next week. Source link Originally published at Melbourne News Vine

[glassandgoblet]

My mind keeps going back to that woman in Arbor. The one we encountered in the dream-streets. I will likely never see her again, hopefully so, even... but ever since I saw her I’ve noticed coiling shapes on the edges of mirrors, and I...

...I think I will see that lost expression on my own face, someday.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

They do finish eating soon, but everyone is talking so much they end up staying a while longer. The kids are chatting at Dad about everything they've been up to and turning to their uncles sometimes too, shyly reconnecting, even trying out timid, broken sign language their mother has been trying to teach them for Uncle JJ. Chase has his babies on his lap and his partner at his side, and don't they look like a happy nuclear family? Everyone chats. Stacy chats. Stacy talks to all his brothers like nothing is wrong, and Jackie gets a vindictive sort of joy when JJ is shy of her, or maybe still a little unforgiving of the past. He hunkers down beside Jackie instead of engaging with her. Jackie puts a possessive arm around his baby brother. He feels like his only anchor right now - but even he is talking about leaving.

Which should be a good thing! Jackie knows that. When did he lose the ability to picture him being safe on his own? JJ's kicked his ass in the past, but somehow Jackie still sees everyone hurting him. Maybe he spent so long separated from him, hearing him crying and scratching at the door of his room, that he just got used to thinking his baby brother was alone and in pain. Or maybe he really is just letting his anxiety eat him alive. Maybe he's just seen all of them get beat one too many times.

They go home and Jackie closes himself into his room, listening as his youngest brothers play games and let Chase talk for hours about his kids and everything he envisions for them. Jackie feels a wave of guilt that he's being such a sour grape - but more than that is the humiliation of knowing that out of everyone, he is the only one who does not seem to be moving forward.

When his brothers go to sleep that night all distraction fades from the house. The darkness of his room closes in on him. He sees the little black sound booth where he works and the dying swan girl in her ballet shoes on the stage, separated from her lover forever. He sees the cold concrete basement of the house in Norway, and Marvin sprinting down the beach away from him, leaving Jackie behind, bleeding out on the floor, as his siblings all vanished around him. He watches Max crumple in the graveyard - and he turns his back on him, and goes back to his monster.

Jackie feels something simmering beneath his flesh. He wipes hot tears from his eyes. There is something inside his body that could snap in half like a tongue depressor if he let it. There is something there that could collapse like a burned bedroom in the attic of a house abandoned in the woods. He's everywhere and nowhere. Alone and surrounded by everyone who hates him. By everyone he's killed.

He sits on his bed in the dark.

"How predictable," comes a drawling voice behind him, and Jackie freezes stiff, fists clenching together. "I always knew you would find your way here. Jack's little hero, breaking down like a child... you're pathetic, Red."

"Go away," says Jackie, voice trembling. "You're dead."

"Don't you nightmare about me every night?" asks Anti smugly, circling the bed. There is nothing in the darkness but his eyes, green as venom, and a faint outline. "Don't I still haunt you, even dead? Poor widdle Roser. If only you hadn't been so afraid, maybe you could have killed off my memory instead of letting your little brother do it for you."

"I forced Dark to give Blue his magic back," snarls Jackie. "I burned you down with light when you were out of control in the forest. I am still a warrior."

"You're a little boy," laughs Anti. "Just my little killer. And now, without anybody to direct you, you're nothing at all."

"Shut the fuck up. I'm still their big brother."

"They don't even need you, Red."

"I'm Jackie."

"Some hero. You know that the moment you let yourself feel anything other than anger, you're going to have a tantrum like a toddler."

"Shut the fuck up."

"I used to have to beat you to unconsciousness when you exploded like that. Kicking and screaming and sobbing like a baby for someone to come save you."

"You are dead. Go away."

"I ought to do it again." There's a glimmer in the darkness and Jackie shrinks back on himself as he recognizes old torture devices he had almost forgotten, from when Anti was first breaking him in. "See you writhing and chewing your fingers for comfort again."

"You leave me alone," says Jackie, rocking himself and closing his eyes. "I'm going to wake up now. I'm going to wake up."

"Come on, Jackie. Why don't you admit you're just an out-of-control baby with temper problems and too much strength for him to hold back? No wonder everyone is giving up on you."

"I'm going to wake up. I'm going to wake up!"

"Oh, no, darling. This isn't a nightmare. You're mine now, Bloodred."

Anti is on top of him and the sharp sting of a whip comes down directly on Jackie's face, making him scream aloud, blood flooding down his face. He's chained to a bed, tied up in barbed wire, wailing as it cuts into him. In the corner, Dapper is tied up by the throat, slumped against the wall, unable to do anything but watch with dead eyes. Jackie howls for him even though he knows he can't help. Anti crushes Jackie's nose with the heel of his boot and whips him again.

Anti's yelling about something he doesn't remember, some failure of his mixed with Red being loud, Red being annoying, Red being intolerable. His little brother is sick in the corner. Why can't he save him? Why can't he get up? He's stuck under Anti's feet as the blows come down. If he just holds still, maybe he can avoid something worse than getting whipped. Why won't anybody come help him? What did he do? Anti turns to Dapper and Red screams for his attention, kicking at him to re-ignite his fury, to turn him away from his brother. And as the leather comes down on him again, Jackie recognizes something he no longer has - the comfort of being needed, desperately, by the whole rest of his family. The single relief for his heart in those times: the chance to protect them. The lone joy of being able to be a hero to them.

"I'll beat you to death and make him bring you back again!" screams Anti, throwing aside the whip to straddle Jackie and draw his fist back, striking him again and again. "I'll make you beg for mercy like the useless little bitch you are! You're pathetic, Jackie! You're pathetic! No wonder no one - fucking - wants you!"

Anti buries his teeth in Red's throat.

Jackie wakes up screaming and tearing at his bedsheets, sobbing and ripping holes into the cloth. He cries like wild, tugging his hoodie close to his body and chewing on the strings of his hood.

If Blue were here, he could hold on to him, and he would rub his back and whisper reassurances to him. Squish him to his body and stroke his hair. But Blue isn't here. Blue got sick of him. The fighting and the nightmares and the - the - the stuckness of Jackie, the obsessions and stubborn immobility, the terrified refusal to acknowledge everything that's wrong. Jackie weeps into his pillow, shaking with an emotion too big to identify. All he knows is he wants to hit something. Hit everything. He screams and strikes his pillow once, twice. He strikes himself, hitting his head with his open palm as hard as he can. He tears out of bed, stalking around his room, grinding his teeth and trying to make the tears stop. How many nights in a row has Anti tortured him? Screamed at him? Told him how useless he is? Why won't it ever stop?

"Pathetic!" he shrieks. "I'm not pathetic! And I - hero! Heroism, I'll show you, fucking - ah!"

He screams, striking the wall with his fist. Fury and hatred like it's the only thing left in him boils against his bones.

Jackie sinks to his knees, heaving.

"Look at me," he chokes into the darkness. "I can't... I can't... I want..."

He wants to break in half.

He wants to go crying to his brothers and ask for help.

But he doesn't.

He doesn't.

After long minutes, Jackie drags himself to his feet, shaking.

"Pathetic," he growls. "Yeah, we'll see. We'll see."

He pulls his sneakers on and opens the door to the apartment. The hot night air rushes over him in a swirl of wind. He draws his hood down low, over his eyes.

There's something burning under his skin. Only one way to get it out.

[theclumsyxeno]

Cossacks and Mavericks: The Longest Night

-Recap, Pharaoh Man had been visited by the legendary Lunar Crescent, she warned him of Hollow Heart’s next plan, and that a girl named Lisanna Hensei can help foil her plans, however, when Pharaoh Man asked where to find Lisanna, Lunar Crescent simply replied, “She is closer than you think.”-

Pharaoh Man grew concerned by Lunar Crescent’s words.

He soon asked, “A friend in need? Who?” Lunar Crescent pulled away and sighed.

She replied simply, “A close friend…” Pharaoh Man grew tense and worrisome. He suddenly woke up in his bed, he sat up quickly and jumped out of bed. He ran out of his room and awoke his brothers.

…

Storm Eagle soon spoke, “It’s alright, I won’t hurt you.” he turned his buster back into a hand. The young girl appeared to calm down slightly. Storm Eagle slowly approached the girl, Upon closer inspection, the young girl was a human Grimm, which surprised Storm Eagle. [”Lovely” begins playing]

The girl spoke up, “Lucy…” Storm Eagle grew confused.

He soon responded, “Lucy? Is that…. Your name?” Lucy nodded, she approached Storm Eagle and hugged him, While Storm Eagle tensed up at first, he soon hugged her.

Lucy soon stated, “Your touch is… So kind, nothing like Mommy's touch…” Storm Eagle was surprised to hear that. He pulled away and looked at Lucy.

He hesitated at first, but soon asked, “Who is your Mom?” Lucy began to cling tighter to Storm Eagle. He started to caress her back.

Lucy looked up at Storm Eagle, and started silently, “Hollow Heart…” [”Lovely” stops playing]

…

Immediately, Pharaoh Man’s transponder went off

He quickly answered it, “This is Pharaoh man.”

Storm Eagle’s voice crackled through, “It’s Storm Eagle, I’ve found a child, she's Hollow heart’s daughter.” Pharaoh Man recoiled slightly, catching his brothers off guard.

Pharaoh Man regained his composure, and asked, “Daughter? Hollow Heart has a daughter?!” The Cossacks were stunned by that.

Dive Man quickly chimed in, “What poor man did that bitch-”

Drill Man quickly interrupted, “Now’s not the time for those questions bro.” Dive Man sighed heavily and turned away.

…

[”Unlovable” starts playing] A young Grimm female followed an anthro fox huntress through a hallway. The young girl’s hand was held by the huntress and was yanked forcefully along.

The huntress soon grumbled, “Why did Headmaster Ozpin have me caretake to this, this thing!?” the huntress’s words stung deeply, the young girl’s eyes burning slightly from tears… [”Unlovable abruptly stops]

…

Sunset Shimmer and Fluttershy headed to Elizabelle’s house.

Fluttershy whimpered slightly, “I hope Belle’s alright, especially after what happened last night after the movie.” Sunset Shimmer bit her lip slightly, rubbing her arm where bandaging covered her forearm.

Sunset Shimmer managed to crack a smile, “I’m sure, that after the nightmare that was last night, she's probably praying for some comfort.” Fluttershy smiled with a nod. Once the pair made it, Sunset Shimmer knocked on the door, only for it to creak open. The pair grew worried.

Fluttershy quivered, “That’s not like Belle at all to leave her unlocked!” Sunset Shimmer nodded in nervous agreement. [instrumental begins playing] The pair slowly walked in. It was dark, and the house was a wreck. Soon the pair heard scratching, which caused Fluttershy to shriek and jump into Sunset Shimmer’s arms, much to the latter’s dismay. Shortly thereafter, a door creaked open, revealing Macy-Mae. [Instramental stops, replaced by new instrumental] Leading to the pair relaxing and Fluttershy getting out of Sunset Shimmer’s arms.

Sunset Shimmer rested her index finger and thumb on her chin, “Why would Belle leave Macy-Mae?” Fluttershy gasped and kneeled in front of Macy-Mae, taking Sunset Shimmer by surprise, “What are you doing?”

Fluttershy turned to Sunset Shimmer with a smile, “Why don’t I just ask Macy-Mae?”

…

Soon, the Cossacks and Mavericks met up in the Cossack Science Kingdom throne room.

Pharoah Man Laced his fingers together, “Lunar Crescent had visited me once more, telling me these words, ‘A friend is in need.’” Leaving the rest of the Cossacks, as well as the Mavericks confused.

Soldier Stonekong soon spoke up, “A friend in need? It almost sounds like a riddle.”

Gravity Antonion soon chimed in, “But what does it mean?”

Pharaoh Man interjected, “The only other clue she gave was, ‘a Close friend.’” Before much else could happen. Sunset Shimmer and Fluttershy, with Macy-Mae in tow, burst into the throne room. Grabbing all the robots’ attention.

Volt Kraken grew slightly appalled, “What in Dr. Caine’s name was that rude burst in for? Couldn’t of you at least knocked?” Sunset Shimmer rolled her eyes. Leading to Flame Mammoth and Wheel Gator chuckling slightly, only for Storm Eagle and Flame Stag to smack them, silencing their snickers.

Rainy Turtaloid soon questioned, “What’s going on?”

Fluttershy whimpered slightly, but spoke up, “Something horrible has happened to Elizabelle.” A chill filled the room, all the Cossacks and Mavericks felt sick. To the point, that Spike Rosered even vomited. With Yammark quickly comforting her lover.

Pharaoh Man finally gained the strength to ask what was on everyone’s mind, “What happened to Ellie?”

To be continued...

@nitathebearybrawler

[douchebagbrainwaves]

I'VE BEEN PONDERING QUESTION

If investors stop writing checks, or they could become irrelevant. The big danger is that you'll dismiss your startup. Only a tiny fraction of people who do great work, and they manage to get things done. But was it the most interesting work I could imagine doing? So if you try, anything you achieve is on the plus side of the room to check email or browse the web or check email now. When startups came back into fashion, around 2005, investors were starting to write checks again. And yet conventional ideas of professionalism have such an iron grip on our minds that even startup founders are. The thing to do, or know, things you're not supposed to. And yet Apple's overall market share is still small. Childhood was getting old. And since I made much more money from it, it offered the highest ratio of income to boringness of anything I'd done, by orders of magnitude.

The only real difference between adults and high school kids is that adults realize they need to do two things, one of which won't surprise them, and this question is just to get you users, or a big partner—is ipso facto suspect. When I said I was speaking at a high school. After the reception we got from art dealers, we were trying to sell luggage and pens and men's shirts. That was contrarian advice 10 years ago, one was supposed to look. More time gives investors more information about a startup's trajectory, and it was a radical departure from existing languages, the most important. The most powerful sort of aptitude is a consuming interest in some question, and such interests are often acquired tastes. But you can and should give users an insanely great experience with an early, incomplete, buggy product, if you keep growing at 10% a week you'll be surprised how well this works. Startups building things for other startups have a big pool of potential users in the other companies we've funded, and none took better advantage of it than Stripe.

When founders seem unfocused, I sometimes suggest they try to get into grad school in economics, but if you major in economics it will be hard to find a better focus group than hackers, because they grow into the trees of the economy tend to be diametrically opposed: the founders, who have nothing, would prefer a 100% chance of $1 million to a 20% chance of $10 million, while the VCs can afford to be rational and prefer the latter. Tranched deals are an abuse. The world changes fast, and you learn things you'd never have known otherwise. There's one other major component of determination: ambition. Repeat till, like an internal combustion engine, the process becomes self-sustaining, and each project generates the next one. This time the number of founders in the same language, so languages spread from program to program like a virus. But as one VC told me after a startup he funded would only take about half a million, I don't know what we're going to do that is to get out there and do stuff. In a traditional series A round, before the VCs invest they make the company set aside a block of stock for future hires—usually between 10 and 30% of the company. And choose those that will give you the most promising vein of users.

Once we actually took the plunge into e-commerce, it turned out to be surprisingly easy to compete. But as so often happens, the closer you get to the truth, the messier your sentence gets. Don't think that you can't do it by accident. The solution is at the other end: to realize that those famous writers actually sucked. When we were in grad school, a hacker friend of mine who spent too much time around MIT had his own lock picking kit. There is such a thing as Americanness. So don't assume a subject is to be excited about it, because it's common to see families where one sibling has much more of it than Stripe.

With each step you gain confidence to stretch further next time. A round. I've been impressed by how consistently the speakers advocate launching fast and iterating. So if you want to do such things. We had a comparatively easy time of it; the first people I asked said yes; but it is for many software startups because they're now so cheap. The angel investors who funded our startup let the founders sell a little stock early, they'd be happy to take VC money and bet the rest on a bigger outcome. Believe it or not, the two senses of hack are also connected. The winners slow down the least. This can only happen in a very limited way in a list of n things. And why did Bricklin and Frankston write VisiCalc for the Apple II?

VCs will say this is inevitable—that you should all become humorless little robots who do nothing but work. It seems to me the solution is to work in the other companies we've funded, and none took better advantage of it than another. The need to do two things, one of the questions I was trying to answer was how many there were of them. When I grew up in the 1970s, the idea of writing serious, intellectual stuff like the famous writers. Things have already changed so much that there's nothing else they'd rather do. And while 110 may not seem much better than 100, if you want to do such things. $3000 is insignificant as revenues go. The intervening years have created a situation that is, as far as I can tell they're mostly random. There is one case where the list of n things is that there's so little room for new thought. The way you succeed in most businesses is to be undisciplined. But startups aren't tied to VC the way they dressed and the way they used to.

But investing later should also mean they have fewer losers. Of course, running companies is a lot of work creating course lists for each school, doing that made students feel the site was their natural home. In the car world, there are a lot of startups; it would not be called determined. Actually startups take off because the founders make them take off. There are plenty of people as smart as Bill Gates who achieve nothing. Besides which, art dealers are the most technophobic people on earth. Not even investors, who are supposed to be able to get it really hot before adding more logs. Making money right away was not only unnecessary for them, but I can think of a phrase to convey how extreme your attention to users should be, and I realized Steve Jobs had already done it: insanely great.

Franz Beckenbauer's was, in effect, simultaneously choose all the management companies to run yours for you, and you'd be protected even if it happened to die. In the past, a competitor might use patents to prevent you from selling a copy of something they made, e. But like many fouls, this one was unintentional. This CFO is both the smartest and the most upstanding money guy I know. If you'd proposed at the time the starving part is actually quite easy, so I was haunting galleries anyway. Who knew? I point out that in their current state they have nothing to lose. But using the Internet on my work computer. It's the way things felt in 2001. Ironically, part of the economy. So I went back to America. It's called a hack.

Thanks to Gregory Price, Jackie McDonough, Sam Altman, Max Roser, Jessica Livingston, and Robert Morris for putting up with me.

[growingstronglikeahighgardenrose]

The Bear and the Maiden Fair

12 Days of Sanditon: Roaring Fire/ Sleep in heavenly peace

Pairing: Esther Denham/Lord Babington

Synopsis: It was the middle of Winter when someone knocked on Esther's cabin in the middle of the woods. The humans of the village had persecuted her for Witchcraft years ago, who would come looking for her? It turned out it wasn't a who, but rather a what: a bear, all black and brown and covered with hair. OR: the one in which Lord Babington is a cursed bear looking for shelter. Fairytale inspired on Rosered and Rosewhite.

Available on AO3

It were times like these when Esther’s need for company was at its highest.

When the wind was howling so loudly not even the sound of the enchanted violin and piano could drown it out.

When her house creaked louder than the roaring fire crackled.

It was her third year out here in the woods, and by now she’d gotten used to the sounds of the woods, the nights used to scare her to a point where she couldn’t sleep until she was utterly exhausted. She’d grown up with scary stories about the woods: monster, goblins, fairies, wild beasts and murderers were known to plague the woods. Though she’d managed to convince herself that half of those threats were fairytales, she knew that the beastly and human predators in the woods were very real. She’d encountered a murdered body, and she’d had to run away from a pack of wolves as well. The stories didn’t keep her up at night anymore, but those memories certainly did.

On a rational level, she knew not to fear. Her house, and the small garden around it, were protected with at least six spells. No humans could get past it. And no animals meaning harm could either. Her spells left enough room for innocent animals to come up to her house.

She liked seeing bunnies hop through her garden, even if they stole her slaw, and she once had a deer walk in during summer. The deer seemingly sensed that it had nothing to fear from her. It had been the first substantial living thing she’d held in years. Prior to that, she’d only hugged and stroked some mice and rabbits, and the chickens. She’d also taken care of a bird with a broken wing once, but birds were hyperactive creatures, they disagreed with her own nature.

Perhaps she should try venturing to the town border and catch a cat. She would love to have a permanent pet. A cat would suit her just right, she’d had one prior to living here.

Wonder if she’s still alive, poor thing was left to Edward’s care.

She took the ladle out of the cauldron filled with water, and poured some hot water in her empty mug. With a flick of her hands, the pot with tea herbs came floating towards her. She added a good amount of leaves to the hot water and sent the pot back to where it came from.

She’d always been a mediocre witch, a taint on the Denham line according to her aunt.

If she only knew. I bet I can do more now, than she ever could. I simply needed the practice. Nothing like absolute boredom to finally take the time to learn magic.

After Edward had ratted out her and Clara, so that he would be the only one receiving Lady Denham’s inheritance, she’d managed to free herself with her magic by sheer luck. Since witchcraft was forbidden, and she’d quite hated being one, she’d always supressed that side of her. But, as she was locked away awaiting her witch trial, the combination of the panic and the wish to live, she’d called on some kind of instinctive magic which had destroyed her restraints. She’d fled, taking all of Lady Denham’s books on witchcraft, and all the clothes she could carry.

She’d been walking through the woods for two days by the time she stumbled upon the old woodsman cabin, it hadn’t been inhabited in a decade and had been barred shut to protect it from rogues and animals. With the same instinctive magic, she managed to get the layers of wood shielding the door and windows away. The house was sturdy and the furniture had still been present.

After mastering a couple of practical spells, she’d returned to the town in the dead of night to steal more of her belongings and some practical necessities. But she tried to keep her visits to a minimum. With every visit she risked exposing herself.

She stared at her three meagre bookshelves. She’d read everything at least twice, and some even more than twenty times.

‘If only there was a spell to magically produce an interesting book.’

She eyed the periwinkle blue and wine bottle green book on the second shelf.

She felt like reading a tale set in Winter. ‘Andersen or Grimm?’

She’d taken to talking to herself out loud as a means to kill the silence. She’d never gone without talking for a day. She just couldn’t bear it. She sang as she cleaned, she hummed as she made dinner, she mumbled as she practiced the hand movements for spells and she cursed herself for screwing up certain spells. In many ways, life in the woods had killed her awkwardness and shyness. In the village she’d always been quiet, rarely talking, and rarely making a decision, she’d left it all to Edward. She didn’t feel the same inhibitions in the woods, she found she enjoyed talking and singing, and she’d made every decision ever since. Now of course, you could ask the question how much of her shyness had actually gone away, since she never interacted with another human being since, Esther asked herself the exact same question from time to time, but there was no doubt to the fact that she felt more comfortable in her own skin.

‘Too moody, Grimm it is’, she decided. With a move of her pinky and index finger, the book started floating towards her.

However, it was surrendered to the gravitational forces when a knock on the door startled Esther. The book collided with the wood log table, and sent her cup of tea toppling over.

Impossible.

Knock knock.

Esther rose slowly.

Was someone actually knocking on the door? Humans couldn’t get past the fence. She took the poke from the fire.

The sound returned.

  It sounded blunter than a knock. Like something soft and heavy bumping against it.

A wounded animal perhaps?

Mindful to stay away from the windows, she moved towards the door.

She waited for the sound, three inches removed from the door.

Something knocked against the door again.

Whatever produced the noise wasn’t about to give up.

‘Come on Esther, it speaks volumes that not a single person has managed to get to your door in these three years. It has to be an animal, and a well intending one at that. Have some faith in your own spells. Damn it, are you a Denham witch or not?’

She took a deep breath and reached for the handle, slowly turning it over and opening the door a couple of inches.

Nothing could have prepared her for what was on the other side.

She shrieked, slamming the door shut as fast as she could.

 ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

  A bear.

A very big,

very brown,

very tall bear.

The bear scratched against the door, making a pitiful sound.

She wasn’t going to start feeling guilty for keeping out bears now, was she? Having a deer in her house was one thing, but a bear?

The bear seemed to make a sound close to moaning, a deep, bearly moan that was.

‘It’s not going to harm you, it’s gotten past your defences. It isn’t even scratching your door. Come on, it’s probably hurt. You can always immobilize it with a spell if anything happens… it’s still a bear though… A bear caught in a blizzard.’

She looked outside the window. It had been snowing for three consecutive days. She couldn’t see the ground or even the green of the trees anymore. All was white. It was freezing. And this bear was out in that horrible snow storm.

‘Aren’t they supposed to hibernate? They’re not made for walking around in the snow.’

That was it. She wouldn’t allow some silly unfounded fear of hers to lead to the potential death of an animal. She was intended to be a friend to the animal kingdom.

She opened her door again.

The bear was still there.

‘Alright, come in but please don’t kill me’, she squeaked as she pulled the door open as far as it could go.

The bear came in. Its coat was completely covered with clumps of snow, and it had visible difficulty walking.

She closed the door and looked at the creature. It was bigger than any living thing she’d seen before, yet it still fit inside her small home. He was higher than a table, and longer than she, but not by much, a foot at most.

It had to be close to freezing to death, with all that snow caked in its fur. He was very lucky to stumble upon her house. She doubted he would’ve made it much farther, judging by how skinny he was and how slow his movements were.

She pushed aside the log table and her comfortable chair.

‘Come lie in front of the fireplace, so that the snow might melt.’

The bear all but collapsed near the fire, a last soft sound escaping from its mouth.

 ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

 She stared in shock as her house became silent again. Her instruments had stopped the second she heard his knocking, and now that the bear had fallen down, there was only the sound of the wind and the fire.

Had he died?

‘Bear? Bear?’ She gently pushed him with her foot. Its eyes blinked.

Alright, he was alive.

‘Let’s get you warmed up.’

She took her brush, and started bristling his fur. The clumps of snow had hardened into ice. It was hard to get out, but she was determined to get the cold clumps off his body.

As she worked on his fur, she found her heartbeat calming down. The initial sight of him had scared her, but her fear slowly melted as he lay there on her carpet like an oversized cat, undergoing her ministrations.

‘I think I’m getting it all out. I wonder if you’re warm enough though. I would offer a human some hot food or a hot drink but I doubt you’d be able to consume that.’

Of course, the bear couldn’t answer since it was a bear. So Esther was left frustrated as she tried to figure out the next step.

Deciding that staring at him until she found out what he needed wasn’t useful either, she picked up her empty cup of water, filled it again, and sat down in her chair to continue her reading.

She didn’t know for how long she’d been reading, when suddenly the bear stood and turned, before lying down again. It was facing her now.

She frowned at the bear. Why did it do that?

Was it because its position had become uncomfortable? At least it was a sign the bear still had some life. It could be a sign that it was getting better after its dangerous adventure in the blizzard.

It wasn’t attacking her, that was a good sign at least.

Instead, it seemed interested in her. Its eyes were more alert now, and to her shock she noticed that his eyes were an odd shade of green with flecks of blue and grey.

Was that normal?

  ‘Hey there’, she said in an attempt at kindness.

She felt a lot sillier talking to this creature than she normally did while talking to an animal.

Nothing silly about it, it can’t understand you and it won’t judge you for speaking either, just like those mice and bunnies.

The bear blinked at her and she returned to her reading, going back to reading out loud.

By the time she’d finished her tale and looked back at the bear over the top of her book, it had closed its eyes.

‘Alright, you sleep by the fire’, she sighed before stretching and yawning.

The bear opened its eyes again, as if it understood that it was being addressed. No, that couldn’t be.

She was starting to get so desperate for company she actually started imagining the animals listening and reacting to her.

‘I’m going to go to bed. Don’t do the animal thing okay, I don’t want to clean bear dung from my floorboards. Try holding it until tomorrow morning.’

The bear’s head moved.

No, it couldn’t understand her, could it?

‘Goodnight.’

‘Nnnnaam.’

Esther had to laugh, its bear noise almost sounded like ‘night’, but that couldn’t be. She blew out all the candles. Only the light of the fire now illuminated the giant figure in front of the fire.

‘Okay, see you tomorrow.’

She opened the door to her bedroom and closed it after her. She shook her head with a smile. A bear in her house, which almost seemed to respond to her talking, it really couldn’t get much crazier than that. As she crawled into her bed, she wondered what happened once something stepped foot on her property. Animals with good intentions could, but what if they suddenly turned violent, would her protective spells make the animal disappear? Or would it be able to attack her since it had already passed the wards?

She eyed the door, her heartbeat picking up again. The bear hadn’t given her any reason to fear it, but it was still a wild animal. In the end she cast a light spell on her door so that only she could pass it, after that she fell into a peaceful sleep.

 ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

   She had to admit her brain hadn’t been working when she woke up the next morning. Because she got out of bed like she did every day, and put on her wool stockings and warm morning gown, taking no trouble to brush her hair, before stepping out of her room.

But as she rubbed her eyes, she managed to get a glimpse of something moving in the corner of her eye.

That was the moment where she was snapped out of her sleep drunken state and started screaming.

The bear was just as sleepy and just as startled, but more so because of the scream than the sight of the woman. Just as she screamed in surprise, the bear was rendered mute by shock.

She’d slammed herself into the wall, staring at the bear as she caught her breath. The previous night came back to her, yet to see the bear in bright daylight, humongous, with sharp discernible teeth in its mouth, was enough to get her a bit scared again.

‘Oh, it’s you. I’d quite forgotten about you.’

A sound left the bear’s mouth.

‘I’m sorry, alright. My head doesn’t function in the morning.  You doing better?’

The bear seemed to nod again.

‘I’m going to have breakfast. I don’t know what to give you.’

The bear moaned.

It looked so skinny. It had to eat.

‘Oh if only I knew!’

The instinctive magic inside of her welled up again, making a book fall off of her shelves.

Esther  and the bear broke eye contact because of the sound.

‘What on earth? Oh.’

A book on animals, she’d forgotten she had it, it was one she rarely read. She’d brought it with her so she’d be able to look up all the creatures potentially living in the woods, to find out whether they’d eat her or not.

‘Let’s see what kind of bear you are.’

The bear  stood and walked to her. It seemed to want to look at the book.

Should she sit down so he could see?

As she wondered on what she should do, the bear decided for itself, and lifted itself on its legs.

She had so miscalculated its height. Its head almost touched the ceiling. She didn’t even reach its shoulders.

Her heart started beating.

She’d seen foxes, stags and horses and she’d been threatened by wolves. But the sheer size of this beast was like nothing she’d ever seen before. It dwarfed her.

‘Sit down, I’ll sit down with you. Just… Don’t stand.’

  The bear let itself plop down again, and lied down on the ground, making itself as small as possible. She sat down on her knees and laid the book on the floor. There were five bears in the book. He obviously wasn’t a white one, nor a panda or a black one.

He made a sound as a large paw with giant claws landed on a page.

Stiff with fear, she pushed his paw aside.

‘Alright. So you say you are this type of bear? Let’s see… It says you eat… Everything, potentially… Me.’

She didn’t want to give it ideas though. The bear made a sound, it didn’t sound enthusiastic.

‘Fish. Grasses and stuff, slim chance at that… Berries… If you can eat everything, I think you might be able to eat some porridge with berries like me. You’ll probably need more of it though.’

Luckily, she had a year’s supply of it, just like she had bowls and bowls filled with jams and dried berries. The one good thing of her garden, and a forest filled with wild berries during three seasons of the year.

The bear happily ate four plates of porridge with berries before he seemed to be satisfied.

‘Seems the cold froze your instincts as well, a bear eating human breakfast’, she laughed.

 There was no guideline for taking care of starved bears though, so Esther didn’t know what to do with the unexpected guest. It was December, and there was little to do in the winter season. She couldn’t exactly play boardgames with him.

Turned out she didn’t have to, for after breakfast, he went to the door and starting thumping his head against the door. She imagined that if he were a cat, he’d start clawing at the door, but the bear seemed to sense that his claws would destroy the door.

‘You need to go out? You can go. And, should you need to, you can come back here.’

  She opened the door and the bear walked past her, brushing against her legs as he did so. He didn’t look back as he walked into the woods. Esther remained standing in the portal for longer than she liked to admit. And if she sat down on a chair near the window to regularly check the woods, she wouldn’t tell.

‘This is so stupid, it’s a bear. It was already strange enough that he came by once, why would he return? They’re meant to steer away from humans.’

She looked outside again.

‘Though I hope he won’t starve.’

The silence was getting to her again, so she made the piano play a cheerful tune.

Tea, she needed tea. Her cauldron of water was empty. She walked outside, humming to herself as she made the cauldron float behind her.

  ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

  It was in this instant, as she was picking up snow and throwing it in the floating cauldron, the ice biting in her hands, that she was once again startled by a sound.

But this time it was no growl, nor was it the wind howling in the trees. For the first time in three years, Esther Denham heard the voice of another living creature. She looked away from the snow, and her eyes connected to the figure of the bear. Two fish lay at its feet. He was completely soaked, and the water was starting to freeze as he was standing there.

‘What was that?’

The bear looked at her with his odd green eyes.

She had not just heard a voice say ‘Witch’.

‘For a second there, I thought you’d talked.’

‘I can talk?’

Esther would never be able to describe how strange it was to hear a human voice out of the very bear-like mouth of a giant bear.

‘You talk. You can’t. You’re a bear.’

‘You magic-ed. Cauldrons aren’t meant to float.’

  He had a point, she wasn’t exactly normal. But compared to a talking bear, she’d say she was…

‘I’m ordinary compared to you. Everyone’s heard tales of witches, I’ve yet to hear a story about talking bears.’

‘There’s one right in that book of you. Did not those bears talk to Goldilocks?’

‘You know fairytales? I’m not doing this. I’m not… I might be lonely but I am not crazy. I am not talking to a speaking bear knowledgeable on fairytales. I’m starting to imagine things… I’m dreaming. I must be. I’m not mad.’

Shaking her head, she took the kettle by its handle and walked in again, closing the door behind her with magic.

As she hung the kettle on its hook again, she heard a bang against the door.

‘Please. I’m cold’, the voice begged.

‘I’m going mad. I’m actually going mad.’

  ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

 But the bear was wet. And it was freezing outside. And he was frail. Of those things she was sure. The question was whether she wanted to risk her sanity for the life of an omnivorous talking bear.

‘How can you talk?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Why didn’t you talk yesterday?’

‘I didn’t know I could talk. I never tried it before. And I was tired, I never felt so weak before. I’d been walking through the snow for days. I thought I’d die until I found this cabin. Used my last strength to get here. I couldn’t move an inch once I fell down on your floor. I can’t thank you enough for helping me and feeding me. I know I look dangerous. I know food is scarce. I… I brought you a fish as a sign of thanks.’

‘But the lakes and rivers are frozen. How did you break through the ice?’

‘It wasn’t easy.’

‘Alright, fine. Let’s go along with this madness.’

She opened the door.

‘Get in before you freeze to death… again.’

‘Thank you so much. To take me in and help me, a bear. You’re extraordinary Miss – actually, what is your name?’

She hadn’t talked to another individual in years. But, she’d talked to him yesterday… he simply hadn’t talked back. Standing in front of another rational creature, she suddenly felt self-conscious. If he could talk, he could think and judge. He already knew enough to know that witchcraft was a weird thing. She doubted a bear would go to the village and inform the villagers of her existence. And though she shouldn’t care about how a bear felt about her, he was the first thing she’d had a real interaction with in years.

‘Esther. Esther Denham. Do you have a name?’

‘I think so. But it’s been so long. I don’t… remember.’

‘You don’t remember your own name?’

‘Never had to use it since… Didn’t even know I could speak.’

‘Since what?’

The bear opened his mouth, but instead of words, a roar came out.

  ‘Nice and clear.’

‘I can’t say, Miss Denham. Let’s just keep it on the fact that I have never talked, because I had no one to talk to. Any name I had, I forgot from a lack of use.’

He was what she had feared to become, before her need to break the silence took over, he was so accustomed to being a loner that he’d given up on all communication. Her heart went out to the creature.

‘What do you want me to call you?’

‘Just call me what I am. Bear’s fine.’

‘Alright, Mr. Bear.’

So she took him to the fire, and started brushing the ice out of his fur again. It felt a little weirder, knowing he was a thinking creature, but she got over it. She’d done so the day before, this changed nothing.

It was surprisingly easy to become friends after that. And she really enjoyed having someone to talk to. It helped that his voice was so pleasant as well. He turned out to be quite amusing. He loved to tell jokes, and dearly loved to laugh with everything, but never in a condescending or mocking manner.

 ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

  The days went by, and the bear stayed with her, lounging in front of the fire. At night, she read to him, and during the day hours, they talked about nothing and everything. He was a bear, who seemed to magically know about fairytales, she tried not to think on the oddity of it and tried to treat him as she would a human. They talked about everything except her old life.  That life was dead, and she still felt protective over it.

So she talked about all kinds of things she’d encountered in the woods. And he talked about what he’d seen. They talked about things in the house, about falling asleep outside in the forest, about what they’d have for dinner.

His voice became a companion to hers. And his presence a constant she could rely upon. She knew her feelings for him came too fast and were too deep. But after years of loneliness, her heart jumped at the opportunity to love another being. She continuously told herself she shouldn’t rely on his friendship. She begged her heart to remain rational. This was a bear, and humans and animals could never be actual friends. But he was too smart to be a pet. She knew that whatever was between them, was temporary. The winter months were ticking by, and in spring he’d be able to go outside again. They didn’t discuss it. Whenever spring or summer was mentioned, the conversation turned awkward. It was an unspoken promise to just treasure the time they had in each other’s company.

  ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

  It was the middle of January, when Esther walked closer to the village than she should’ve. She knew it was risky during daytime hours, but she needed the light to find certain herbs which only grew near the edge of the forest. She’d been suffering from a sore throat for weeks. The bear had taken to telling her stories so she could spare her throat.

‘So you live!’ A booming voice cried.

Before she could respond, two strong arms took her.

‘Good. I happen to have need of you, sister’, he crooned.

She still wondered how his voice could sound like honey even though his words meant no good.

‘Let me go, Edward. Or I swear I –  ’

‘What? You’ll report me? The town folks will surely help one like you. Have your braincells died after you left society? You’re an outcast. People want to hang you. The only thing they’ll assist you in, is your death. You just try crying out, no one will save you.’

He pushed her down in the snow.

‘So here’s the deal. I’ll let you go if you can tell me of my future. It’s one of the only things you were ever good at. Pity you can’t predict your own, would’ve spared you a lot of misery. I’m planning on investing in something. Is it going to be successful?’

‘Let. Me. Go. Please, Edward… You don’t have to do this.’

He pulled on her hear, shoving her face into the snow. The cold seeped through her dress. She’d already gotten goosebumps from her encounter with him, but the stinging pain of the snow now crept through her pores, making its way towards her bloodstream until it ran cold.

‘Are you deaf? Not used to hearing another voice anymore?  I asked AM I GOING TO BE SUCCESFUL?’

Tears rolled over her cheeks as he pushed his knee into her back.

She’d been stupid to love him once.

And she’d paid a mighty price for it.

But it turned out that she hadn’t paid enough.

She’d known coming back was a stupid plan.

A sore throat hardly seemed worth dying.

  A roar rippled through the trees, halting the movements of the person on top of her.

The snow underneath her cheek seemed to shake in anticipation.

The birds grew quiet.

All weighed disappeared from her back as a second roar reverberated through the forest.

She scrambled upright. Edward laid underneath a very large bear.

How could she have forgotten? He was out as well.

The bear went to stand on his two legs.

He’s going to kill him.

   On the one hand, she felt no pity for her step-brother, but on the other hand, she knew her brother had weapons on his person. He could hurt the bear as well.

She could lose him, even before the snow melted.

The only friend she’d had in years.

It was there, at the edge of the forest, with a raging heartbeat, hyperventilating and undercooled, that the nervous breakdown combined with her previous weakness, knocked her out cold.

  ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

  When she woke up, she was laying on the carpet in front of the fireplace, surrounded by softness.

Opening her eyes, all she could see was brown fur.

She repositioned herself, and the bear knew she was up.

‘Who was that?’

‘My step brother. When my aunt died, he betrayed me and my cousin, made it known we were witches. Court ordered us to undergo a witch test. I escaped and never returned.’

‘Why didn’t you use your magic to stop him? You use it for everything.’

She hadn’t even thought of it. The second he grabbed her, she became the weak teenage Esther again. Magic hadn’t even crossed her mind. She could’ve perfectly lifted his body with her magic. But instead, she’d been weak, and had surrendered in an instant.

‘I always relied on him. He always did all the thinking. I… I believe he just made me feel as small and stupid as I used to be.’

‘You don’t strike me as stupid.’

‘I was a bad witch and a bad person.’

‘You were… Evil?’

‘Oh, no… Nothing like that. It’s just… I hated being a witch, I hated the inheritance. I just wanted to have a normal life like my brother. So I never put any time in learning how to be a witch. But my aunt wanted to keep me close, and she had all the money. So we stuck around, and my brother promised me a normal life once she died. It was just him and me, you see, when our parents married each other, we became friends, and when they died, we became a team. He learned me everything, kept me safe… I never had to think, he always arranged everything. He was the only person I cared about on this earth. He got out the worst in me. I was silent, and mean, didn’t interact with anyone. But then, he betrayed my cousin and me so he’d get all the money. All his promises of giving me a normal life, getting away from the superstitious town, they were all lies. I only learned to use my power once I was on my own. I had to learn so much.’ She gently stroked his fur as she trailed off.

‘I think you were his prisoner for too long. He has abused the power he had over you in ways I can barely even guess at. But he’s not going to make a  victim out of you any longer. I will not allow it. I wish I would’ve killed him. But taking care of you was more important.’

‘What happened?’

‘You fainted. I bit him in the arm to warn him off. He fled the second I let him go, so I took you back home.’

‘You have more humanity than him.’

His green eyes kept looking at her, but the exhaustion of the day consumed her. Her eyes were heavy with sleep, and she slipped away in a matter of minutes, feeling comforted by the wam embrace of her bear.

 ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

  It was the end of January. The rivers and lakes were free of ice, though the ground was still covered in snow.

The sky was bright and blue, without a cloud to be seen, when her bear walked into the woods, as he did each day. And after having lived with him for two months, Esther didn’t look out of the window to check in on him anymore.

Perhaps she should’ve. Because she’d sat down in her chair near the fire and started reading a book, and had been absolutely startled by nightfall.

He still hadn’t returned.

She tried to calm herself.

He always came back to her.

And surely, he’d say goodbye if he wasn’t planning on returning?

Something was very wrong. She threw on her cape and ventured out.

 ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

 She didn’t know where to start looking. But it didn’t matter, she’d keep on searching until she’d found him. She’d only been out in the dark a handful of times. The forest was a dangerous place to be after dark. But there was no room for anxiety in her head, it was too full of worry.

The first hour she looked in silence. She walked in the dark, because she was affright holding any light might make her eyes lazy in the dark. She needed to see. She tripped more times than she cared to count. Her dress was soaking wet from the snow.

She remained silent the first hour, not wanting to attack any predators. But as the moon rose, so did her worry.

So she cried out for him.

Cried and looked.

A fear wrapped itself around her heart.

She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t stop herself.

What if he had gone?

What if something had happened?

She never asked him where he went to when he went out.

Not that she would’ve been able to find him. For all she knew, she could’ve been walking in circles the past two hours.

The cold was getting to her. Her fingers were so cold they hurt to move, and her body was shaking violently. Her breath was shallow, as it hurt to breathe in the icy air too deeply.

‘Esther!’

It was him. She blinked, looking around. The sound came from everywhere and nowhere in the dark forest.

‘Bear?’

‘Esther!’

The same pitiful roar she’d heard the day she met him came from the left of her.

She ran.

She ran and fell time and time again, but she didn’t care.

   ‘Keeping making noise, please!’

‘Esther!’

And when she tripped another time, she fell on a large soft mass.

She’d found him.

‘Bear!’

His paw was stuck in a bear trap.

‘Oh god.’

This explained.

She didn’t even have to focus. Her rage grew so large the trap simply exploded, but he didn’t stand up.

‘Bear? Mr. Bear?’

A soft moan left his snout.

She lifted him with her magic.

‘It’s time to come home.’

  ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

  She was up all night, brewing healing potions and tonics, and cleaning his wounds. He floated in and out of conscience for hours, and he kept on shaking, God only knew how many hours he’d been stuck lying on the snowy ground.

Finally, at five in the morning, her bear appeared to be lucid and calm. He’d stopped shaking two hours prior, and his eyes weren’t glazed with pain anymore.

She’d fallen asleep against him, exhaustion consuming her the exact instant she knew him to be out of danger.

He stirred then, waking her up ever so gently.

She blinked, her brown doe eyes connecting with his. Between delirious dreams, and instances where reality, memory and dream blended together in his pain fuelled state, he’d seen fragments of memories of times long gone by. But most importantly, he’d remembered something he wanted to share with her as quickly as possible.

‘It’s James… My name is James.’

Esther blinked again. ‘Your name?’

‘I have a name. I remember.’

‘Oh.’ The meaning finally hit her through the layers of exhaustion.

She took his mighty large head in her hands and pressed her nose against his.

‘Hello, James. You had me worried there for a moment. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.’

‘For a second, I feared the exact same thing. Thank you for looking for me. I know you hate the dark. It was incredibly brave.’

‘I’m not brave. I was just worried. I’m still just as scared.’

He was too tired to tell her that that was exactly what bravery was. Sleep took them both again.

His paw didn’t heal easily, and she didn’t knew a lot about healing spells.

He had a hard time leaning on it. She brought his every meal to him, and helped him get outside when he needed to.

She’d taken to sitting with her back against him as they talked at night. It felt weird now, sitting in a chair away from him after they’d saved each other’s lives.

 ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

  But when March came around, the snow had gone, and his paw had healed enough. He would forever have difficulty walking, but he was strong again. And had recovered much of the weight he’d lost before he first came knocking on her door.

‘I thank you, sweet Esther, for all your good care. I wish I could stay with you, but I can’t. I have to move forward, now more than ever.’

‘Why?’

‘I can’t tell you. I wish I could. But I can’t. Please, don’t think I’m leaving you. If I could… And should you wish, I’d stay.’

But leave he did, and nothing could chase the loneliness away.

It came back tenfold after he left, now that she was so used to having company again.

Not a day went by where she didn’t miss him.

She cried and cried, but to no avail.

James didn’t return.

 ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

 It was stupid, missing a wild animal. And she hated herself for being so dependent on other people. First Edward, now him. She had a penchant for choosing those who’d leave her.

She hated herself for missing him.

And she hated how each time she lost track of her thoughts, the piano started playing ‘The Bear and the Maiden Fair’.

She hated how she hummed the tune throughout the change of seasons.

A bear there was, a bear, a bear! All black and brown, and covered with hair. The bear! The bear! Oh come they said, oh come to the fair! The fair? Said he, but I'm a bear! All black and brown, and covered with hair!

But James had been good and well intending, he’d shown her more kindness than Edward ever had.

And she supposed she had to be grateful for the company he’d given her, and the time he saved her life. She’d always known their days were numbered.

  ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

Spring came and went, summer passed by, and before she blinked, the green leaves turned brown again. The trees, repulsed by their dying extremities, shed their leaves, adding a new layer to the forest floor.

Esther spent her days preparing her garden for winter, making jelly and jam and making treats for the birds with the seeds she got from her sunflowers.

After a busy summer, she started thinking more and more of her bear friend again. As the days got colder, she wondered whether he’d return to her. Some nights, when the wind rattled the wood rattled her home, she sometimes imagined a sound against the door. She’d already opened the door twice for only the cold wind to enter, leaving her chilled and saddened for at least the following hour. She tried not to think too much about him too much, but it was hard.

Especially since she had been feeling quite unsafe the past few weeks. She’d encountered Edward in the woods around the end of October. He’d gotten stuck in a tree with his cape. When he spotted Esther, he’d started begging and demanding her to help him.

  ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

‘Now why would I do that? The last time I saw you, you threatened to have me killed.’

‘Because you were being unreasonable. I asked you to tell me my future and you refused.’

‘Because you betrayed my trust and sent the townfolk after me.’

‘That was years ago.’

‘I won’t help you, Edward.’

‘I wonder how far your house is from this place. Listen, Esther, I can and will get free on my own and I will tell them that you live in the woods unless you help me. This can be our little secret.’

‘Why should I trust you, after everything?’

‘Well, I haven’t told the others after our previous encounter, have I?

Esther took a step back.

‘I assure you, they’ll have no trouble hunting both you and the deer. It’s hunting season, Esther.’

‘Threatening again?’

‘Help me.’

She freed him with the help of her magic. He fell to the ground, staring at her in awe.

‘Do remember I am a witch, Edward. You have no idea what I’m capable of. There, I helped you. Now leave.’

 ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

 They both left, though Esther walked in the wrong direction as a precaution. She really didn’t wish to lead Edward to her home, nor did she trust him.

As she was walking, she did start wondering what Edward had been doing in the woods again, and why the earth had been kicked up near to the spot he’d been standing. Her curiosity proofed to be too great so she went back to the place, wary of each sound and snapping branch. Only an arm’s deep into the earth, she found a heavy sack. She tried to pull it loose from the grasp of the earth, and at first it gave easily, but once the fabric was pulled taut, she became aware of the weight of the sack. It jingled and jangled. She had a physical reaction to each clank of metal, as if the sound would reach and alert Edward wherever he was.

Her rational thoughts found her through the layers of fear, and, remembering she was a witch, she levitated the bag out of the hole.

The bag was almost the size of her person. Deciding it would be safer to check its contents somewhere safe, she took it home, and was astounded to discovering it was filled to the brim with coin, gem and jewel. She could only guess as to how Edward had collected such treasure, but of one thing she was sure: it had to be stolen.

Feeling particularly vengeful, she decided to keep it.

‘You owed me anyways.’

It was enough money to buy herself a castle and start over. A life away from the dangers of the woods, away from the looming threat of the villagers, and away from Edward who would no doubt show no mercy for the theft of his wealth. She started planning and packing, and reduced her amount of walks to a minimum. She only left her protected garden and home for a fifteen minute dash to the river the catch some fish for supper every three days.

It proved still too much when she was tackled to the ground, five minutes removed from her home.

She started wondering if she was the only one who’d taken up residence in the woods, for Edward sure spent a lot of time in them as well.

 ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

   ‘You thought you could steal from me and get away with it? Did you?’

‘Let me go.’

‘Let you go? Just let you go? After you stole from me? Oh no dear sister, I showed you mercy. Now I’ll show you my wrath. And don’t hope for a random bear to save you this time around. That kind of luck never comes around twice.’

He got up and kicked in her in the stomach. She bent  over, covering her stomach.

‘Where is my treasure.’

‘You stole it yourself.’

He kicked her again. ‘You don’t know that. And so what? It’s mine now.’

Another kick. ‘Where?’

Esther remained silent.

‘I won’t ask a third time. I’d hate to fuck up your pretty face.’

‘You don’t deserve a single penny from that treasure.’

He pulled her up by her hair and kicked her in the back this time. She cried out in pain as he dropped her to the floor again.

‘You can’t kill me. Then you’ll never find it.’

‘But I can make you suffer.’

‘Do as you please, but I won’t help you.’

‘You stupid little witch. I should have burned you the same day I outed you!’

A witch. She was a witch!

Why did she always forget that when she was around him?

She raised her hand, flexing her fingers to cast an incantation, but Edward gave her another kick before she had the chance to finish the movement.

‘You were always the weakest of them all, Esther. You think magic is going to help you?’

Another kick.

She wailed and formed her body into a ball to shield her most fragile areas.

‘You’re a failure. You can’t be normal. You can’t be a witch. You’re an awful thief. I think I might be doing you a favour by killing you. You’re utterly deluded if you think you can ever reach something.’

She had no doubt he had the capacity to kill her.

She couldn’t imagine herself escaping the situation.

Perhaps it was true. What had she done well on this earth? What had she done with her life? She didn’t even have anyone who’d miss her.

Hot tears heated her cheeks as she fought to find the strength to fight back. But the constant onslaught of kicks made it hard to focus on anything beside the pain.

 “But he’s not going to make a  victim out of you any longer. I will not allow it.”

But here he was, making a victim out of her again. And there she lay, undergoing his treatment. She wished she had the strength to fight back. To defend the life her friend had saved.

‘I’m sorry, James.’

‘What’s that?’

His kicks halted for a second, believing Esther to have said something that might be a plea or a location. Esther wasted no time letting go of her body and immediately made a gesture which threw him three feet away from her.

She tried to scramble to her feet, she honestly tried, but her body was so sore that her legs crumpled underneath her weight.

‘You’re going to fight? Bold of you. Didn’t knew you had some Denham spice after all.’

‘I hate you.’

‘Do you? I remember a time where you said quite the opposite.’ His words missed their mark, or rather, they hit the wrong one. It didn’t make her feel insecure or sad, it made her boil with rage.

Esther's beam of light blinded him.

‘I do.’

Her hands tingled with energy. She wanted to hurt him. Yet at the same time, she wondered if she was capable of murder.

Edward fell to his knees as the pure energy shot from her hands and connected with his chest.

   ‘You bitch!’ His scream deepened, the sound echoing through the woods and becoming inhuman… Esther stared in disbelief.

How did he… he didn’t. His scream had left his mouth at the same time a roar rippled through the woods.

Could it be?

Esther couldn’t stop herself from looking around.

A foolish mistake, honestly. She should have known. Edward yanked on her hair and pushed her into the dirt again.

They tackled each other, now both on their knees in the dirt. Esther kicking up the brown ground and Edward lashing out at her with his fists. They fell and rolled, kicked and pushed, and then.

‘James!’

A fist connected with her cheek.

As her face connected with the ground once more, she could just see the shimmer of a knife in Edward’s hands. Then everything faded to black.

 ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

 Her head pounded. Her muscles ached. Beside her face, a bear moaned pitifully. She could just notice a pair of green eyes beside her. She reached out, her hands connecting with the fur she would never forget the feel of. Her hands clenched shut around it. The bear was moving, and she was being pulled on top. She fell away again.

  She was aware of  moving. She could feel herself rising and falling. The sensation was not unfamiliar to the one of being on a horse years ago. The light went out.

 The ground was hard, and her head throbbed. Simply moving her finger hurt enough to cripple her. She tried to lift her body, but she didn’t think she’d managed to get even an inch above the ground, before her body ached so much it shut down again.

  ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

 It was pitch black when she opened her eyes again. It was the first time she didn’t have to fight to keep them open, though her body still hurt like hell. She’d never done her witch triall, but she could imagine how a highwayman felt after having been broken on the wheel.

‘Esther?’

J-J- James?’

Something moved beneath her. Had she been lying on the bear?

‘Thank God, I was so worried for you.’

‘Don’t be.’

‘How can I not?’

‘I survived this long on my own.’

‘It didn’t really look like you were surviving all that well.’

‘Then you shouldn’t have left me.’

‘I’m sorry… I just… I really wished I could have stayed. But I couldn’t.’

‘Why?’

Even saying the words hurt, as they required breath, and breathing wasn’t particularly enjoyable at the moment.

‘I can’t tell.’

‘Well try.’

‘I wanted to… to… break my curse.’

Esther’s eyebrows lifted.  She could feel her bear move underneath her.

‘I can tell it? I can? Esther, I tried to tell you so many times, but I couldn’t. Only bear noises came out. I don’t know how it’s possible now but I’m going to try. Can you listen right now?’

‘I might be in pain… And I’m not excluding the possibility I might faint somewhere in the foreseeable future… But if you don’t start talking now I’ll find the strength to beat the answer out of you.’

‘There is the Miss Denham I’m used to.’

She wished she had the strength to roll her eyes.

‘My ancestors once decided it was a good idea to curse the family treasure. Whoever stole it would be cursed with bad luck, and whoever lost it would be cursed as well, but they would be given the strength of a bear to get the treasure back… I never thought the curse would be… You know… Like it is. But when I was away from home, the treasure was stolen, and out of nowhere, I turned into a bear. I was chased and hunted. Turns out people don’t like bears a lot.’

Esther could hear the humour in his voice, and well-remembered how scared she’d been when she first met him.

‘I came to this region because I could simply sense that the thief lived in this area. But I could never find him. Then winter set in, and you saved me. When I left, it was only because each day, though I’d never particularly enjoyed being a bear, I found myself growing more and more agitated with my predicament. You made me want to search with a renewed vigour.’

Her mouth was dry, and the load of information only slowly penetrated the woolly interior of her head. But as the words seeped in, her heartbeat picked up.

He had a family.

The family had a treasure.

The treasure was stolen.

 He was cursed with the strength of a bear…

‘Why?’

‘Because each day I looked at you, I found myself wishing I could touch your face without my claws peeling your skin off. Needing to hold you in my arms instead of having you lean against my side… And having to kiss you or going mad.’

Esther didn’t know how one was supposed to react to being told they were loved by a bear, who actually turned out to be a cursed human, but she was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to giggle.

But giggle she did.

‘This is ridiculous.’

Edward had killed her. Or he’d pushed her to the edge of death.

Her dying mind had probably gone delirious and imagined the return of James, and had started adding more and more fantastical elements so that she could die happily.

‘I should have known. After all, what am I to you but a strange talking bear?’

‘What happened to Edward?’

The bear grew quiet. Esther nodded. She could have guessed. She didn’t know how to feel about it, but it didn’t particularly sadden her. He’d tried to kill her thrice in six years.

‘I told you I might kill him. I apologise. I know it’s wrong.’

‘I think you may have killed the thief who stole your treasure.’

‘But then how will I ever find it? I’m cursed!’

James growled and gnarled and roared out of frustration and sadness.

If anything, it gave Esther time to process everything.

Her bear was back. Her bear, who had always been a friend instead of a pet, was human. And for some odd reason, he happened to be a wealthy lord who proclaimed to be in love with the odd poor witch of the woods.

And she held the key to his humanity in her bedroom!

‘I have it. I took it, that’s why he was attacking me… It’s in my bedroom. If you push my drawer away, you’ll find a set of stairs to a secret storage room. It’s there. You can take it back, it belongs to you.’

‘You took it?’

‘Edward owed me my inheritance, and I knew there was no way he had earned that much. I didn’t really think it through, but I figured I could use at least a part of it to get away and start my life over. It would also mean I was safe and away from Edward. But he got to me first. I’m sorry I stole your treasure.’

‘You stole from your brother, not from me. Even I would feel no remorse over stealing from a man like him.’

Esther nodded. The rollercoaster of emotions was draining all the energy she’d gathered from her sleep. She was starting to get drowsy again.

‘I’m glad I could assist you. You’ve always been kind to me. You deserve to get your treasure back.’

‘You’re a remarkably kind woman yourself… E- Es, you’re falling asleep again, aren’t you?’

‘Mhm.’

‘Is there a potion I could give you? To ease the pain?’

‘Amasfelaynes’, she breathed, as she curled up again. It would help the bruises heal, though it would make the pain a bit worse at first. But it was fine, she was sure she’d be able to sleep through it.

She felt a vial of glass connecting to her face, and weakly lifted her hand towards it. James had taken it between his sharp teeth. She honestly didn’t even bother opening her eyes anymore as she unscrewed the lid and downed its contents.

Sleep took her seconds after.

  ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

 When she woke up again, it was about noon, judging by the light inside her cabin. The fire was still crackling behind her. Her body ached, but it didn’t throb like it did the night before.

The potion had done its magic. She redistributed her weight to find a more comfortable position on the carpet, and became aware of an arm tensing around her middle.

She stiffened.

Calm down.

One breath.

Two breaths

Three breaths.

She was laying on the floor of her cabin in the woods. This much she understood. She’d fallen asleep there after James gave her her potion.

She pushed herself to look at her waist. And there it was: an arm dressed in a richly embroidered blue coat. On the end of the coat, a frilly end of a white sleeve could be distinguished, from which a very scarred wrist and a hand hung. The scars were ugly and purple, and there were visible depths in the skin. Whatever had happened to his writs, he was lucky it was still attached to his body.

A treasure.

James.

A curse.

The wrist! The paw!

She couldn’t help the shiver running down her spine.

Her dear bear had revealed to her he was supposed to be a man. No human should be able to get into her home. Therefore, the only humans who could have entered her home were she herself, and humans who walked passed the gate as something other than human.

The retrieval of his treasure must have restored his human form.

‘Because each day I looked at you, I found myself wishing I could touch your face without my claws peeling your skin off. Needing to hold you in my arms instead of having you lean against my side… And having to kiss you or going mad.’

He was human now.

She didn’t dare look at him. Behind her wouldn’t lay the bear whose hairy snout she’d become so accustomed to, but the face of a man she’d never seen before.

But she did know him.

And she had heard him.

She studied his hand, as it was the only thing she could look at without moving, and the only aspect she could analyse without starting to tremble.

The hand had long fingers, and though the palm was considerably larger than hers, it wasn’t too broad. As far as she could judge, he’d have a moderate waist.

Would he be as tall as his bear form? That would be very large.

As she was wondering about his looks, she didn’t notice that the figure behind her was slowly waking up.

  ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

  ‘Esther?’

‘James!’

She shrieked.

She was scared of him again. And scared of how their relation would continue after this moment. It was one thing to welcome a bear into her home, but another to be faced with a man who’d declared his desire for her before she’d even seen him.

‘Esther, please, don’t be scared.’

She wondered if he’d somehow look like his bearform.

There was only one way to find out.

But once she looked, there was no going back. Her bear friend would be gone.

Her life as she knew it would probably be over as well.

So much was about to happen. She wished she could lay on this floor with her eyes shut forever. The change was too sudden, too drastic.

Soft, warm hands took hold of hers.

‘Esther, please. I’m still… Me. Though I’ll probably be less hungry and hairy than before.’

She laughed at that, and opened her eyes.

They connected with a lovely pair of green eyes, found in a round face framed by hair and a beard the same dark chocolate shade as his fur had been.

He was… Not ugly.

Far from it actually.

She didn’t know how much time passed, gazing into his eyes, but she did know time had most definitely passed.

    ‘Now what?’

‘That’s entirely up to you.’

‘Me?’

‘You.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘What do you want, Miss Denham?’

‘Want in what way?’

‘Of life. You told me yesterday you wished to start your life anew to escape your brother’s clutches. Your brother is gone now. So I wish to give you the choice: do you wish to remain here, or move away and start over? You’ve helped me so many times, and saved my life. I’ll do everything in my power to help you achieve happiness in whatever way you want.’

Remain behind, in the woods she’d been chased to, and the woods she feared. Or start anew, away from it all, but without a single friend? What would she do all day? At least here she was busy struggling for her life.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I also have another offer.’

‘You do?’

‘You could… Marry me? You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. You’re witty, intelligent, beautiful, caring and so much more. I can’t imagine loving anyone as much as I do you. But I know you do not know me the way I do you, and it hardly seems fair. To you I am an entirely new person.’

‘You pretend as though I am the one who would fare badly if we were to wed. But you’re a fool if you can’t see I’m not worth having. I’m a witch and I don’t have a penny to my name.’

‘I don’t care.’

‘You should.’

‘I don’t. So we’re both an awful prospect?’

‘Actually, you’re not that awful. I do know you. I’ve talked with you every day for over four months. We discussed everything. Now I just get a face to match with the voice.’

‘And how does the face match the voice?’

‘Well you still look positively as wild as your growls sound. But I assume your face looks as kind as your voice sounds.’

‘I never quite know whether you’re complimenting or insulting me’, he laughed. She couldn’t help but smile back at him.

She shook her head.

‘You’re not meant to. I wouldn’t want you to feel too confident.’

‘Oh no, you must prevent that at all costs.’

And it was at this moment, when both couldn’t get the foolish smiles off their faces, that their hands started reaching for the other.

Lips connected, bodies entwined themselves and passion was discovered, elevating the friendship from the bear and the maiden fair, to passionate heights.

   ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

   If you’d ask his best man, Sidney Parker, he wouldn’t be able to explain anything. He only knew that one day, after an absence of a year and a half, Lord Babington came riding through the gates of his family home, with a woman in tow. Nobody knew where she came from, and nobody knew how they’d met, but Lord Babington announced they were to be wed. It could only be attested, by everyone who’d seen the wedding, that the groom looked positively bewitched by his new bride, and the bride was happier than any other.

[savagewolffury]

⭐️ - For Yuuri && Olive? ⭐️⭐️ - Extra for Rosered and Roseyellow too if you want.

For each “⭐️” I get, I’ll write a headcanon about our muses.

Olive:

Duets! Yuuri lowkey plays the cello for fun since being immortal for who knows how long can be kinda boring, so that and Olive playing the piano would make for some pretty fun music times. 

Rosered:

After the ending where the two of them escape (name pending but I’m considering Guiding Hand since that’s like… what Yuuri does for her), he sometimes takes her out to eat some tasty sweets together. Yuuri does gain an interest in cooking and baking, and would totally let Rosered taste test his food.

Roseyellow:

Hhhh I actually got like two hcs here so like the first one’s pregame, whenever Yuuri and Roseyellow meet up she’ll probably tell him about the cool and interesting stuff she’s read in book and they would talk about actually going to those places like the beach and seeing real snow and stuff. Of course that doesn’t happen but y’know it’s nice to dream.

Second one that I haven’t talked about is after Together Forever, the white lily Yuuri gave Roseyellow as a parting gift never wilts, it stays as white and perfect as it always has. Roseyellow probably keeps it in her room and talks to it about all the fun stuff she did that day since she can’t talk to the actual Yuuri anymore rip. 

[everemmanuelle]

The night we met.

BRAD

I hated being home. I hated that this cold and empty Hollywood Hills house was now my 'home'. I spent most of my free days riding my motorbike, letting the roar of the engine drown out my thoughts. I missed my family. I even missed Angie. Though, if I were being honest with myself, not nearly as much as I thought I would.

I rode all across Los Angeles. I rode out to the desert. Joshua Tree. Death Valley. I didn't have any work to keep me busy. Not for a few weeks at least. Most of my friends were off working. George was busy with Amal. Cate, David, Ed... everyone was busy. They knew about the breakup, though the public didn't yet. They'd offered me their sympathy. I needed something more than that. I needed a distraction. I needed to get laid.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I slowed down to a stop and took a look. My manager, Cynthia, wanted to know if I was going to the event tonight. I'd forgotten. Julia had invited me a few weeks ago to the opening party of this new restaurant and bar that she and her husband had invested in. I'd told her I'd go. I was sure I'd be fine by then. I hadn't been out much since Angie had kicked me out of the house we'd shared. Maybe this was just the time. Maybe I'd meet someone who would scratch that itch. Or maybe I'd feel worse than I already did. It didn't seem likely.

I texted her back that I'd be there. I rode home to get ready. I looked at myself in the mirror. This was 53, I thought. My hair had started to grey. I had wrinkles all around my eyes. At least I'd kept fit. Robert Redford was what? 80 now? He looked alright. Should I shave? I touched my chin. I'd let a short beard grow. My hair was short, a little messy. It'd do. I showered, changed into a pair of grey trousers and a grey button down. I put on some black dress shoes and organised a car to take me.

HAVEN

"I don't wanna go!" I whined. I'd already agreed. I'd already drank the required amount of pre-drinking alcohol that Cali had laid out for me. I was tipsy.  But it wasn't the good kind. It was the kind that reminded me how sad I was that my boyfriend of the last six months had dumped me for gaining a few extra pounds. Even if it was for work. I'd always been a little too curvy for the industry as a model. But a few more pounds, my agent assured me, would put me on top of the plus size modelling industry. If it meant I got to eat dessert now and then, I was all for it. Leo, however, was not. In his words, "I can't be seen dating a fat chick."

"We're going," Cali said, pulling me up off the lounge. "You look so good. It's gonna be so much fun. You can meet someone to take your mind off Leo."

"I don't want to meet anybody," I argued. "I want to stay home and watch Netflix."

"And waste this good buzz?" she asked. "My agent got me two tickets to this thing. It's too late to find someone else. I am not going alone. Get your ass up!" Cali was a budding actress. She had talent and she worked hard but she needed the luck meets opportunity part of the equation. She was a friend from back home and we just so happened to be moving to LA at the same time a year or so ago. Rooming together seemed the reasonable thing to do. She quickly became the best friend I'd ever had.

I groaned. She was right. I was being selfish. I needed to snap out of it. Leo didn't deserve my sadness. He was an asshole. I knew I shouldn't date a guy whose last hundred girlfriends were skinny blondes. But he'd asked. I was beyond flattered. Romeo and Juliet was my favourite movie as a young girl. How could I say no? Well I regretted it now, didn't I?

"Okay," I said, rising, shaking off the melancholy and making sure I hadn't messed my black beaded mini dress with spillage or creasing. I was good. "Let's go."

"Are you sure?" Cali asked, as annoyed as she'd be if I bailed, she didn't want to be a bad friend and force me out when I wasn't ready.

I didn't want to be a bad friend either and bail at the last minute. She needed to network. I needed to leave the house. I nodded. "Let's go."

BRAD

Jesus Christ. Who the hell is that? She's young, I thought. But sexy as hell. My cock throbbed within seconds of looking at those eyes. I couldn't see what colour they were. She was too far away. But they were piercing. She caught me looking. I looked away. 

Not smart. Really not fucking smart. You came to this party to find someone to fuck and she was not the one, I thought. She can't have been more than 22. I was almost double her age. But that body. In Hollywood, a girl with some flesh on her bones was harder to find than a cocaine-free surface. Who was she, I wondered. An actress? A model? She had to be something like that. She was too pretty to be a nobody.

HAVEN

Brad Pitt. Brad fucking Pitt. He was looking right at me. Why the hell was he looking at me? We were in a room filled with Los Angeles' most beautiful women and Brad fucking Pitt was looking at me. And, looking embarrassed to have been caught in the act. And yet, he looked at me again.

"Cali?" I asked. She was chatting with another actress from her agency. "Cali!" I pressed.

She turned to me, annoyed. "What?" she hissed.

"Is he looking at me?"

Cali looked around, confused. I watched the confusion turn to shock as her eyes widened and mouth dropped. "Is that Brad Pitt?"

"Yes, is he looking?" I asked.

"He was," she answered. "He just looked again," she said excitedly.

I turned back and he was still looking. He smiled a little. I smiled back. I turned back to Cali. "Oh my god."

"You have all the fucking luck! Go over there," she said.

"Are you insane? I can't just go approach Brad Pitt."

"Why the hell not?" she asked. "I'll do it."

She was always much braver than me. That must've been the actress in her. She could do anything if she was pretending to be someone else. "No," I said, shaking my head. I glanced back at him. He was chatting to Julie Roberts. Pffft. No way could I go over there.

BRAD

I could barely followed along with what Julia was saying. Something about drama with the head chef. I just nodded, looking intermittently over at the beautiful girl. She looked intermittently at me too. No way could I approach a girl that age. That would be way too creepy. Julia excused herself as Rhys, an old acting buddy of mine, came to say hello.  "How are you?" he asked as he shook my hand.

"Good, how are you?" I asked.

"Yeah, good," he answered. "What have you been up to?"

I rattled on about nothing particular. He'd heard about the projects I had coming up. He told me about his. I asked after his kids and he asked after mine. And, Angie. I reluctantly told him that we were over. "Sorry man. That sucks."

I nodded. I looked back over to the girl. He followed my gaze. Shit.

"You looking at Haven Roser?" he asked.

"Who?" I asked.

"Haven Roser," he answered. "The model? Long dark hair. Massive tits." They weren't massive. They were proportional to her body. Angie was straight as a board. I'd loved her body but I missed curves.

"Never heard of her," I answered, hoping he wouldn't go on.

"She's dating Leo," he said. "Ah. There he is."

I looked over to see Leonardo DiCaprio in his usual newsboy cap, approaching her where she sat with a few other girls. He never did have a problem dating the young ones. Damn.

"Not his usual type but I'd fuck her," Rhys went on. Sure. As if she'd let him near her. He was as greasy as they came. I struggled to remember why we'd been friends as he went on about his latest conquests. I looked around the room for other women. I still had an itch that needed scratching. But I couldn't tear my eyes away from her. Haven. 

HAVEN

What the fuck? Why is he here? I swallowed as he walked right over to me.  "Haven," he said, a question on his lips.

"Leo," I said back.

"What are you doing here?" I could barely hear him. I stood up. "What are you doing here?" he repeated.

"I'm having a drink..." I answered, showing him my half empty glass.

He smiled straight and unhappy. "This isn't really your scene."

I furrowed my brows. "What does that mean?"

"It's an industry party," he continued.

"It's a restaurant opening," I argued. Cali and her friend were looking up at us then. I looked over to Brad, he was watching as well.

"Come here for a sec?" he asked, pulling at my arm, leading us into the corridor leading to the exit.

I pulled my arm from his grip. He'd never handled me like that before. In the six months we'd spent together he could be a little inattentive but he'd never manhandled me. Any part of him that was ever sweet to me seemed to have vanished from his personality. "What?" I asked.

"These are my people. You should go."

I laughed a little. Was he serious? "I was here first," I argued. "You should go."

He scoffed. I saw Brad approaching from behind Leo. He clapped a hand on his shoulder. God, he was even better looking up close. I lost my breath a little. Leo was nothing compared to Brad. Not now, not ever. "Leo," he said in greeting.

"Brad," Leo said, the charm switched on. This was the guy that asked me out. Oozing charm. "How are you?"

"Good," he said, before turning to me. "Hi."

"I hoped I'd see you here. Quentin told me you're in?" Leo asked.

"I am," Brad answered. He looked like he was waiting to be introduced to me. Leo seemed to have no plans to do that. "I'm Brad," he said, taking the initiative.

I shook his hand. Woah. His hand was warm. His touch electric. It shot straight through me. I took a breath. "Haven," I said, letting it out.

"Don't bother," Leo said. "She's no one."

No one. Six months and I was no one. I'd met all his friends as his girlfriend. We'd slept together. We'd gone for a weekend to Mexico together. I was a model with a relative amount of fame in my own right. No one? And he said it in front of Brad fucking Pitt. I mustered up the barest of smiles for Brad whose expression was unreadable and walked out the exit.

I was so embarrassed. I couldn't go back in there. I took out my phone and sent a text.

To Cali: I had to go. Don't be mad.

Hers came back quick.

Cali: I get it. See you at home x

I put my phone away as a figure appeared beside me. I turned to find Brad Pitt standing inches from me. What was that smell? Was that him? He smelled good. Like the barest amount of an oaky cologne and a touch of whiskey on his breath when he spoke. "Hi."

"Hi," I said back. It was all I could manage.

"He's a dick," Brad continued, with half a shrug. I smiled. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. Was he nervous, too? "Do you want to go for a drink?" he asked.

Oh my god. Yes. Yes. Fuck yes. Brad Pitt? "Yeah," I said, hoping my voice wouldn't betray the sheer joy I was experiencing.

He smiled a little, walked over to the street and hailed an approaching taxi. he held open the back door. "After you."

https://www.wattpad.com/story/176006419-brad-brad-pitt-x-katherine-langford-complete VOTED #2 IN BRAD PITT FANFIC

[avalice-fallenaa-blog]

blossom - Rosered @ Aria uwu

Send “blossom” for my muse’s reaction to yours tucking a flower behind my muse’s ear.

Coming to a stop, the young child sat herself down on the grass. She had come today in hopes of playing with with her flower friends; Hydrangea, Marigold, and Rosered. Marigold was busy off with their papa getting ice cream, and Hydrangea was off with another flower called… Lilac, if she remembered correctly? But Rosered was free so after being turned loose by Ivory, the young girl immediately set off to go and track down their one free friend to play and have fun with for the time being; which fortunately, didn’t prove to be too difficult for the young hybrid.

Upon finding her friend, Aria immediately set about playing and having fun with her. And after awhile, even with the enhanced stamina that the hybrid had as a result of their mixed heritage, she needed to sit down and take a short break for a bit.... which she did; after their latest game had come to its end, the two agreed to take a short break. After doing so the young hybrid did a bit of wandering around with her friend in tow, looking for a good place to sit down. And upon finding one that she liked, Aria merely... plopped down upon the spot, and let herself enjoy the sun as their break continued. Though, as it would turn out, the spot Aria had picked for the pair to take their break at was near a decently sized patch of flowers; a fact which the hybrid did not know of, and would only find out about a short while after the pair had sat down.

“Hmm?”

Feeling something slide in between her ear and the side of her head prompted a curious noise to emerge from within the young child. At first, she wasn’t quite sure what it was that had caused that sensation; her first thought was something along the lines of a bug that had gotten onto her shirt while they were playing... though the fact that it stopped moving entirely after a short time drove Aria to rethink what it was that might be between her ear and her head. Giving it some thought for several seconds, the young girl mentally shrugged as he gave up trying to figure out what it was through though alone; and several seconds after that, Aria raised her right hand up and touched around the area she was feeling something around her ear and head as softly as she could.

At first the feeling she got made a curious expression come to the child’s face, though as she felt more and more of the flower that had been stuffed in between her ear and head, the more that expression dissipated and was replaced very faintly by a smile. After a time, which came shortly after she had lightly touched the petals of the flower itself and the brief return of the confused expression along with it, Aria lightly took the stem of the flower between to of her fingers and slowly removed it from where the other girl had put it. Once it had been full removed, the child moved the flower in front of her eyes so that she could actually see what had been put there... and when she did, a large smile made it’s way to her face as she scanned around for Rosered.

“Thank you Rosered!!” Her voice conveyed the both the happiness the child felt, and her excitement towards finding another thing for them to do. “Sit down! Let me give you one too!”

[suzey8888]

USA, UK, Africa, EU, Australia et al. LISTEN UP please"

Morning All,,

How many of you want your President or Prime Minister to show you their vaccination record? Booster shots etc? It is my opinion they have all had placebo's and it is time to call them out. If we do this across the planet, those of us who do not want the vaccine will be vindicated. They know what's in it, but to prove to all the nay sayers, this is a time bomb waiting to go off.

Crimes Against Humanity, and mass murder. I've talked until I'm blue in the face, some believe, some don't, but if you don't, it is your life and your right to choose, just don't bleat when all your family start dying. Yes it abrupt, I'm not sure how else I can get through to you. The vaccine was fiddled with by Dr fauci and Bill Gates, who owns his own major laboritory. He paid $2Billion for the vaccines, and has made $220Billion, not a bad years work. They put extras in, like a date of death. 2030. You have 9 years if you are lucky. No matter you were told millions of times, you chose to have that vaccine, and I am truly sorry for you, but in our efforts to get it taken away, your continued acquiescence has stopped us. It has been said that we should avoid those vaccinated because it is lethal. How true that is I have no idea, but lethal it is. if you are worried, start looking for an anti vaxx. It is the only way out for those vaccinated.

Bill Gates has wanted depopulation for years, see TED TALKS, He has bought many thousands of acres of farmland in America to grow vegetables. he wants all beef destroyed because they fart and cause the ozone to seize. Now, what do you eat? Where do you buy it from? You have to have a path way to all of your food, because Gates is not into giving stuff away, but I'm of the mind, if the vaccine doesn't get you, the veg will. Poisoned veg? it's been around for years. Would you truly trust anything from this man? Plus, if shelves run dry, he knows you'll have to go to him, OR GROW YOUR OWN! I did this year and I have everything I need and I don't have a garden set up for food growing so most of it was grown indoors until it got warmer. Anyone can grow seeds.

Also, prepping: Get yourself an Instant Pot, it steams, pressure cooks, sautes rice cooks, soup, and slow cooks. Kilner Jars. Lots of them. Buy your shop and set about prepping your pantry, because if you don't, you will be in big dodoo. Go to "RoseRed Homestead" on YouTube, A professor and an intelligent lady who uses the Instant Pot and others to show you how to preserve everything and how to avoid botulism! Plus many channels giving you recipes. They are on Sale on eBay. I bought mine for £12 but that was sheer luck, but it can be done! They are about £100++++ but there is one for £68 on ebay...

Plus when TSHTF Electric and Gas will fall, it is on the cards now, they are making it so expensive you won't be able to afford it, then they go down. If it happens in America, it happens in the UK, usually within weeks. Buy yourselves a camping stove or 3 that uses cans of gas. as you can use them indoors. Then buy candles, big buggers to show you where you're going. All electrics will need to be dumped, so everything you will need HAS to be in your possession. get a key wind can opener, get huge bags of rice and beans, then build your pantry up one tin at a time, and make sure you are only buying what you like.

Buy a Stove for outside too, summer has gone in the UK, but they are brilliant for cooking large joints and BBQ. Just remember the Wood and brickettes.

We can make it through this, truly we can, but the ways of doing it are harsh.

1) Buy only British. 0 from China.

2) Stop using Facebook and twitter. I mean the planet, let them all know we know who they are.

3) Ask your MP's for proof of their vaccine shot, then ask the Premier. It is your right to know, and if they cannot produce a legitimate one, we'll take that as a no! Placebo's every last effing one of them, I'd bet my last life on it.

I know I'm a gobshite sometimes, it's been said, but my whole life is now spent trying to talk to people about the upcoming tragedy of political power. It's time to bring down our Government, and bring in business men who know how to run a business. Government is business, no matter how you look at it, and very few are in it for the right reasons. Look at Boris, he is a RED, A communist, who would have thought, and he's running our country. He HAS to go, because he is also on a list of names of people who are or were in his case, Satanic Abusers. I found that hard to believe, but communism is all about Satanism, so if you want to help me bring this about, please reply. I won't hold my breath, but it would show some solidarity.

Sadly it is much too late for many, but if you watch all the heads of state, they look worried, and one last point! BORIS Johnson has paid £6 Million pounds for dead body space in 2025. All in the news, you can't have missed it. How does he know there will be dead people in 2025 over the national average? Come on, tell me, because I'm sick of all the sheep telling us to get vaccinated. It sure will be a different world with only 500 million people left, and only white Satanists, or FreeMasons are allowed. Hollywood will be there in his tunnels miles long andf full of opulence. Why tunnels? he is a coward. Rothschild, Soros, Rockefeller, Klauss, Fauci, Gates all under Nuremberg trial for Crimes Against Humanity. They invented Covid to get the vaccine, and then they set the fear abaze, to scare you into vaccine, it's a ploy used for years and you were so daft, you fell for it. I don't mean daft as in ignorant, but there comes a time when you have to look behind the curtain, and Trump, no matter if you love or loathe, he brought all of this into focus and showed us the evil behind EVERY Government.

[brooklyn-design-storytelling]

Week Three

Concepts and Learning

At the beginning of today's class, we did a quiz to check our assumptions. This activity was interesting because it showed how we have a lot of bias about topics and that news and social media tend to spread lots of misinformation. I think this new knowledge about bias will help my group for this project and the research of our chosen topic because we will now look beyond headlines and instead reflect on the statistics and numbers (and not use numbers to mislead people).

After that, we did an activity where we identified the existing situation, trends, drivers, possible futures, wild cards, and preferable futures of food. This was an interesting way to generate ideas and start thinking about things that will shape the future of Aotearoa.

I found it interesting to listen to other group's ideas about possible futures compared to ours. My group went quite extreme with our answers listing things such as 3D printing food, eating exotic animals, and an increase in supplements instead of food, while other groups were possibly more realistic with their answers. Although we were a bit extreme with our answers I think we did well at taking into consideration everyone's thoughts and opinions which gave us a good range of answers across the different categories. If I were to do this activity again I might have tried to use answers based more on currents trends and facts rather than assumptions but it was a good learning experience.

When brainstorming ideas there were lots of topics we found ourselves interested in but were leaning towards researching the LGBT+ community or mental health. As a group, we decided on the topic of mental health because there are lots of different directions we could go with this topic, and we felt this would be the most interesting.

What I learnt from this activity is that I need to do lots of research to understand a topic so I am not misled by headlines or bias. I can use this new knowledge and experience when begin researching as a group for our next assessment. It could also be useful for my Spatial Design class because I can be better informed about places and people that I am designing for.

Research

To have mental health disorders refers to a wide range of health conditions but all of which is to affect someone's mood, thinking and behaviour. If someone has good mental health this means that they are able to think, feel and react in appropriate ways that enable them to live their life while someone with poor mental health might find thinking, feeling or reacting very difficult. Mental health disorders affect people of all ages  and can range from common problems such as depression and anxiety to rarer ones such as schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. (Mind, The Mental Health Charity, 2017) They can also have a wide range of causes such as trauma, isolation, poverty, unemployment and more with some people being more deeply affected by certain things than others. In many ways mental health is similar to physical health and should similarly be taken care of. (Mind, The Mental Health Charity, 2017) In an investigation done in 2017 made from a combination of sources including medical and national records, epidemiological data, survey data, and meta regression model it was estimated that 792 million people lived with a mental health disorder. (Ritchie & Roser, 2018) This is slightly more than one in ten people globally (10.7%). As shown in Figure 1, we see that globally, mental and substance use disorders are very common with around 1 in 7 people (15%) having one or more mental or substance use disorders. (Ritchie & Roser, 2018)

Figure 1.

From Our World in Data, 2018, (https://ourworldindata.org/mental-health#licence)

In 2019/20 in New Zealand a total of 184,711 clients were seen by mental health and addiction services and out of these 51% were male and 49% were female. When looking at the ethnic groups reported, Māori were most likely to be seen by mental health or addiction services while Asians were least likely to be seen. (Ministry of Health NZ, 2021) Globally around 800,000 people die from suicide every year and most cases can be linked to a diagnosed or undiagnosed mental health disorder. While suicide rates according to statistics are decreasing compared to past years this number is still very high with around twice as many people dying from suicide as from homicide. (Ritchie et al., n.d.) Amongst 15 to 29 year olds suicide is the second leading cause of death with many of them having what could have preventable severe mental health conditions. Despite progress in some countries, people with mental health conditions often experience severe human rights violations, discrimination, and stigma. (WHO | World Health Organization, 2019) Many mental health conditions can be effectively treated at relatively low cost, yet the gap between people needing care and those with access to care remains substantial. Effective treatment coverage remains extremely low. (WHO | World Health Organization, 2019)

References:

Mind, The Mental Health Charity. (2017, October). What are mental health problems? Mind. https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/types-of-mental-health-problems/mental-health-problems-introduction/about-mental-health-problems/

Mind, the mental health charity. (2017, October). What causes mental health problems? Mind. https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/types-of-mental-health-problems/mental-health-problems-introduction/causes/

Ministry of Health NZ. (2021, June 30). Mental health and addiction: Service use 2019/20 tables. https://www.health.govt.nz/publication/mental-health-and-addiction-service-use-2019-20-tables

Ritchie, H., & Roser, M. (2018, April). Mental health. Our World in Data. https://ourworldindata.org/mental-health#licence

Ritchie, H., Roser, M., & Ortiz-Ospina, E. (n.d.). Suicide. Our World in Data. https://ourworldindata.org/suicide

WHO | World Health Organization. (2019, December 19). Mental health. https://www.who.int/health-topics/mental-health#tab=tab_1

[josephbinningyoumatter]

A Thankful Heart Creates a Grateful Heart

A Thankful Heart Creates a Grateful Heart

A Thankful Heart Creates a Grateful Heart Sometimes we forget to recognize the richness in our lives. We forget that a thankful heart creates a grateful heart. This is mainly from the messages we encounter every day, telling us to focus on what we don’t have instead of the abundance we do have. This creates a conflict in our innate nature, our inner self, our sense of gratitude. Rather than focusing on what we do not have, what we have not achieved, where we did not go, or who we do not have in our lives, we should focus on the many blessing we have that we take for granted.   “Be thinkful in order to be thankful,” — John Maxwell author If we take a moment and take an inventory of our blessings, I call it thinking on them, we will gain a new appreciation for how well we live, no matter our circumstances. If for example you walk in another man's shoes, figuratively, you will gain a newfound appreciation and a true understanding of how blessed you are. You will see: - How easily you can feed your body. - How easily you can feed your mind. - How easily you can move from place to place. - How easily you can attend to daily tasks.  

a true understanding of how blessed you are For most of us we are used to walking up to a light switch, turning it on, and having light. Yet 940 million (13% of the world) do not have access to electricity. For most of us, we are used to turning on the stove and cooking dinner. Yet 3 billion (40% of the world) do not have access to clean fuels for cooking. Focusing on what we do have, and being grateful for it, brings about a spirit of thankfulness. Gratitude is the least expressed but most important virtue in any person's life. It’s when we realize it we grow toward thankfulness.   “The heart that gives thanks is a happy one, for we cannot feel thankful and unhappy at the same time.” — Douglas Wood   There is a term called compassionate gratitude that we all should be aware of. It’s a combination of compassion and gratitude. Compassion literally means “to suffer together.” Among emotion researchers, they define it as the feeling that arises when you are confronted with another’s suffering and feel motivated to relieve that suffering. Gratitude expresses appreciation for what one has. It is a recognition of value independent of monetary worth. Spontaneously generated from within, it is an affirmation of goodness and warmth.

The heart that gives thanks is a happy one When we combine the two terms and understand the meaning of the combined definitions, we can come to realize our true abundance and can awaken feelings of guilt in your heart. Guilt coming from not fully appreciating how well you live verses the mixed messages you receive in your daily life.   "I don't have to chase extraordinary moments to find happiness—it's right in front of me if I'm paying attention and practicing gratitude." — Brené Brown   When we establish the mindset of “there will always be a place for you at our table for you and your loved ones”, we begin to fully appreciate the rich and plentiful bounty we can all have and can all share with others in our individual lives. In this time of thanks lets all remember that A Thankful Heart Creates a Grateful Heart.  

A Thankful Heart Creates a Grateful Heart I’ve written another article you might like that addresses this topic. You can access it here: JOY✵HOW TO FIND, AND KEEP IT. And don’t forget life is a miracle. You just need to know where to look in order to see them. You can read about it here: MIRACLES ✵ HOW TO SEE THEM EVERY DAY   If you have enjoyed this article, please visit me at www.JosephBinning.com for more helpful tips and articles. You can also get more helpful information in my book You Matter, even if you don’t think so which you can purchase on Amazon here Amazon You Matter, even if you don't think so For my free report Happiness Is A Choice click here: Happiness Is A Choice Free Report Remember: Happiness is a choice, so be happy.

  Access to Energy/Our World Data.org/by Hannah Ritchie and Max Roser/accessed 11/26/2020/https://ourworldindata.org/energy-access#:~:text=940%20million%20%2813%25%20of%20the%20world%29%20do%20not,a%20high%20health%20cost%20for%20indoor%20air%20pollution. Access to Energy/Our World Data.org/by Hannah Ritchie and Max Roser/accessed 11/26/2020/https://ourworldindata.org/energy-access#:~:text=940%20million%20%2813%25%20of%20the%20world%29%20do%20not,a%20high%20health%20cost%20for%20indoor%20air%20pollution. Compassion defined/what is compassion/ Greater Good Magazine/accessed 11/26/2020/ https://greatergood.berkeley.edu/topic/compassion/definition Gratitude/PsycologyToday.com/accessed 11/26/2020/ https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/basics/gratitude Read the full article

[warninggraphiccontent]

30 April 2021

Open season

Do you think the UK government should be more transparent, accountable and participatory?

Are you interested in health, the environment, justice, data ethics and algorithmic accountability, open contracting, misinformation, freedom of information, democracy building and standards in public life?

Would you like to help shape policy pledges on those issues (and maybe others) that government will commit to?

Then sign up to take part in the development of the latest Open Government National Action Plan - the process kicks off next week. With perfect timing, really. (Full disclosure: I'm on the civil society steering group. Some more info on the whole thing here.)

Please do express your interest, and share as widely as possible - it would be great to have as much of UK civil society and the public involved as possible.

Other bits and pieces:

One of those thematic groups will be on freedom of information. Plenty of links on that this week below, including mySociety's (excellent) new report on the topic. (And something something government making an exhibition of itself.)

Remember we have another great Data Bites for you next week - sign up here, catch up on the previous events here.

And IfG have an event today with the new senior digital figures in the UK government - hopefully we'll hear more than we have so far about the new Central Digital and Data Office, and its relationship with the Government Digital Service.

Trying to find basic information is more complicated than you might think, part whatever we're on now.

My list of data series - newsletters, podcasts, events - is so very nearly at 100 entries, so do add any that we've missed. And thanks to all who've contributed so far. One of those listed is Politico's Digital Bridge, which has a good run down of the G7 digital and technology track this week.

The Alan Turing Institute and the Royal Statistical Society have been working with the Joint Biosecurity Centre on various statistics and machine learning projects during the pandemic. You can hear about some of them at an event this afternoon.

RIP astronaut Michael Collins. This extract from his autobiography is quite a piece of writing.

Have a great weekend

Gavin

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Today's links:

Graphic content

Viral content

India’s catastrophic second covid wave shows no sign of slowing* (The Economist)

COVID-19: The crisis in one of India's worst-hit cities, where someone dies every five minutes (Sky News)

NHS app will be used as Covid ‘vaccine passport’ for foreign travel (The Guardian)

Vax populi

See How the Vaccine Rollout Is Going in Your County and State* (New York Times)

Vaccine diplomacy boosts Russia’s and China’s global standing* (The Economist)

40m Pfizer jabs bought as Covid booster shots* (The Sunday Times)

After a blistering start, Biden’s vaccine rollout faces new hurdles* (FT)

Vaccine uptake rises among England’s ethnic minorities* (FT)

What the ONS can tell you about the COVID-19 Vaccine programme (ONS)

Side effects

How has lockdown changed our relationship with nature? (ONS)

In need of support? Lessons from the Covid-19 crisis for our social security system (Resolution Foundation)

After shocks: Financial resilience before and during the Covid-19 crisis (Resolution Foundation)

‘We are drowning in insecurity’: young people and life after the pandemic* (FT)

More Americans Are Leaving Cities, But Don’t Call It an Urban Exodus* (Bloomberg)

Joe 90 (+10)

Joe Biden’s first 100 days: by the numbers* (FT)

What America thinks* (The Economist)

After 100 days, Joe Biden is polling better than Donald Trump did* (The Economist)

At the 100-day mark, has Biden kept his campaign promises?* (Washington Post)

Prolific yet quiet: Joe Biden’s first 100 days in numbers* (New Statesman)

17 Metrics to Watch in the Biden Era* (Bloomberg)

Taking leave of their...

2020 Census shows U.S. population grew at slowest pace since the 1930s* (Washington Post)

Which States Will Gain or Lose Seats in the Next Congress* (New York Times)

Once-A-Decade Census Numbers to Redraw U.S. Political Landscape* (Bloomberg)

Which States Won — And Lost — Seats In The 2020 Census? (FiveThirtyEight)

US politics

Biden’s $4 Trillion Economic Plan, in One Chart* (The Upshot)

By the numbers: States weighing voting changes (Axios)

Advantage, GOP (FiveThirtyEight)

Americans From Both Parties Want Weed To Be Legal. Why Doesn’t The Federal Government Agree? (FiveThirtyEight)

Derek Chauvin was found guilty – how typical is that of US police who kill? (The Guardian)

Science and nature

Visualised: glaciers then and now (The Guardian)

Siberian fires not an isolated event, EU earth observatory shows* (FT)

The U.S. Will Need a Lot of Land for a Zero-Carbon Economy* (Bloomberg)

The Hidden Science Making Batteries Better, Cheaper and Everywhere* (Bloomberg)

Our Earth in context with other worlds (Axios)

The intricate life of the International Space Station (via Chris Hadfield)

UK politics and government

Will Greensill be a Barnard Castle-sized issue for the Tories? (UK in a Changing Europe)

Boris Johnson’s £200k refurbishment of 11 Downing Street could buy you a whole house in much of the UK* (New Statesman)

Labour’s lost heartlands. Can it win them back?* (FT)

Green gains in red-brick England* (New Statesman - though I'd have put Labour at the base of the bars)

Procuring inequality: Understanding the gender pay gap in government contracting (Spend Network - and summary)

Devolved public services: The NHS, schools, and social care in the four nations (IfG)

Let's get fiscal, fiscal

The fiscal position of Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland (IfG)

The national balance sheet and capital stocks, preliminary estimates, UK: 2021 (ONS)

Putting a value on the UK – faster than ever before (ONS)

Nominal spending figures understate China’s military might* (The Economist)

Everything else

Inheritances and inequality over the life cycle: what will they mean for younger generations? (IFS)

Exploring the State Papers with Word Embeddings (Networking Archives)

Nomadland, Disney and the drive for Oscars dominance in 2021* (FT)

Survival curves (Max Roser)

Meta data

Open for the best

Registration: Open Government Thematic Groups (UK Open Government Network)

Civil society urged to join groups on government transparency. (UK Open Government Network)

Statement on the UK’s New Global Anti-Corruption Sanctions (UK Anti-Corruption Coalition)

Relight my FOIA

New policy paper: Reforming Freedom of Information (mySociety)

Reforming Freedom of Information: mySociety policy paper launch event (mySociety)

Public information request monitor (mySociety)

Freedom of Information in danger of ‘sliding into obsolescence’, new report finds (openDemocracy)

We are going to court to force the government to release full details about its controversial FOI ‘Clearing House’ – a secretive unit inside the Cabinet Office (openDemocracy)

Press freedom: how governments are using COVID as an excuse to crack down on the public’s right to know (Media@LSE)

A transparent FOI system is vital for good government* (The Times)

Thread (George Greenwood)

Government obfuscation has become 'art form' - MPs and journalists say Freedom of Information not working (Press Gazette)

Viral content

NHS app set to feature vaccine passport (Public Technology)

COVID-19 Update (UK Government)

AI got 'rithm

Ensuring trustworthy algorithmic decision-making (CDEI for OECD.AI)

Error-riddled data sets are warping our sense of how good AI really is* (MIT Technology Review)

Artificial Intelligence in Local Government (Oxford Commission on AI & Good Governance)

Now is the time for a transatlantic dialog on the risk of AI (VentureBeat)

AI at work isn’t always intelligent* (FT)

Artificial Intelligence Is Misreading Human Emotion* (Kate Crawford, The Atlantic)

The Challenges of Animal Translation* (The New Yorker)

We need more bias in artificial intelligence (Bruegel)

Stop talking about AI ethics. It’s time to talk about power.* (MIT Technology Review)

Working for an Algorithm: Shadow Bans, Dopamine Hits, and Viral Videos, All in the Life of TikTok Creators (The Markup)

Home Office algorithm to detect sham marriages may contain built-in discrimination (TBIJ)

Missing data

What's missing? Evaluating social sector data gaps (Commission on Civil Society)

ONS to publish suicide data by ethnicity from June as charities say ‘no excuse’ for gaps in data (The Independent)

///so.very.predictable

App used by emergency services under scrutiny (BBC News)

Why What3Words is not suitable for safety critical applications (Cybergibbons)

*All* English ambulance services use #What3Words, according to health minister (Owen Boswarva)

Government

Proud to be the Government Analysis Function (Government Analysis Function)

ADR UK three years in: Harnessing the power of administrative data three years in (ADR UK)

Supercomputing leap in weather and climate forecasting (Met Office)

Transforming Government: Six key recommendations (Foundry4)

Help us set a new data standard for vulnerable people services (Data in government)

Government gives Verify a stay of execution (UKAuthority)

Texting times

Boris Johnson’s tax texts show perils of government by WhatsApp (Politico)

Lobbying row: Why ministers have two mobile phones (BBC News)

Big tech, trade and competition

UK digital competition - it’s about your data, stupid (diginomica)

UK lobbying questions raised by Big Tech cash for MP interest groups (Politico)

Facebook v Apple: The ad tracking row heats up (BBC News)

The Counterbalance – The European System of Monopoly (Brave New Europe)

Twitter censored tweets critical of India’s handling of the pandemic at its government’s request (The Verge)

Technology wars are becoming the new trade wars* (FT)

Data

techUK on the Future of Data Governance for the UK (techUK)

Ireland stress-tests Europe’s data protection law* (FT)

Data Brokers Are a Threat to Democracy* (Wired)

An airline glitch reveals the dangers of discriminatory data (Tech Monitor)

For public review: The GDB research handbook (Global Data Barometer)

Fact and fiction

The Anti-Vaccine Influencers Who Are Merely Asking Questions* (The Atlantic)

Facts are Pieces of a Puzzle, not the Puzzle Itself (Zeynep)

Everything else

Justice Lost In The Post: How the Post Office wrecked the lives of its own workers (Private Eye)

Unified UK measures of rurality and deprivation (mySociety)

What is going on here? (Hilary Cottam)

Shaping the future of digital technology in health and social care (King's Fund)

Should Tech Make Us Optimistic About Climate Change? (Tony Blair Institute for Global Change)

Scottish Elections 2021: WE’RE TRACKING WHERE THE PARTIES STAND (Open Rights Group Scotland)

Opportunities

EVENT: Turing-RSS Lab webinar #3: using algorithms and AI in the response to COVID-19 (The Alan Turing Institute, Royal Statistical Society)

EVENT: What is the Future of Free Speech on the Internet? Jillian C York (Bristol Festival of Ideas)

EVENT: Rethinking how we regulate Big Tech (Bennett Institute)

JOB: Editor in Chief (openDemocracy - more)

JOBS (Full Fact)

JOB: Data Investigations Advisor (Global Witness)

JOB: Director, Technology and Human Rights (Human Rights Watch)

JOB: Data Scientist - NHS Test & Trace (Grade-G7) (DHSC)

JOB: Head of Digital ID (Tony Blair Institute for Global Change, via Jukesie)

JOB: Lead Data Scientist - Datalab (BBC, via Jukesie)

JOB: Service Manager, WhatDoTheyKnow (mySociety)

JOB: We're hiring - could you be our new Data Analyst? (Data Orchard)

JOBS (Information Commissioner's Office)

TENDER: Evaluating the data assurance market (ODI)

And finally...

When you label a plot the wrong way and suddenly discover a new graph type (João Martins)

How High Airplanes have been Able to Go from INTERNATIONAL PICTURE LANGUAGE by Otto Neurath, 1936 (RJ Andrews)

For the last six years I’ve kept a spreadsheet listing every parking spot I’ve used at the local supermarket in a bid to park in them all (Gareth Wild, via Alice)

[my-brothers-corrupted]

Chapter Four: Part 1

Anti finds a new home for himself and his puppets and makes a couple violent power plays.

Tws: physical abuse/beatings, stabbing, imprisonment, temporary major character death, and extreme distress

-

Part 1 - Reversal

It’s an awkward car ride, to say the least.

Red hot-wired the truck from the parking lot and Trick climbed into the driver’s seat with Anti still wearing Blue’s body beside him. Dapper sits between Red and Dok, enduring periodic lovingly-concerned glances from both of them in quiet silence, his head against Red’s shoulder. Trick and Red won’t meet each other’s eyes in the rearview and Dok rubs absent-mindedly at his side and at his necklaces, trying to decide his next move.

“Turn here,” says Anti, once they’ve got about an hour away from the motel. The trees grow huge and beautiful around them and everything smells of earth and water. Red perks up. Staying somewhere around here would rock.

Trick turns the car and they keep on down an unkempt dirt road until -

“Okay,” says Anti, pointing. “Here you go.”

“Motherfuck,” whispers Trick.

“What he said,” agrees Red, leaping out of the truck as he parks. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“It’s a nice house,” says Anti.

“It isn’t a house,” murmurs Dok. “That’s a motherfucking mansion.”

Huge windows stare out into the forest around them from the square and stylish body of a grey-stone house, the doors curved like those of old Roman buildings, lights dangling from every other piece of rock. Balconies protrude from room windows and a tall proud brown fence surrounds a big piece of land in the backyard. Squirrels and birds flicker overhead in the warmth of the early morning, the trees sighing in the wind.

“Red, ditch the car later,” Anti commands, heading towards the door. With a blink of his eyes, he unlocks the electronic handle and opens the way for his pets. “The man who lived here was a paranoid recluse. The whole house is coated in cameras and there’s all the medical supplies we could ever need in the bathroom. It will be the perfect place to get their attention from. Come on, then, darlings. Don’t you want to explore?”

.

Dapper walks into the house alone, behind his siblings, almost envious of Blue’s cane, as he feels, for whatever reason, the need to collapse.

Blue does collapse, the moment Anti is gone from his body. One moment they’re standing together at the foot of the great dark stairway with its twisting rail - a moment later the body collapses, and Red is racing forward to catch his twin. Blue slumps back into his arms, bleeding a little from the right eye, and Red is quick to pull him away into a big sitting room, dragging him onto a couch.

“Roser,” Dapper hears Blue murmurs.

“Azul,” replies Red quietly, knocking their foreheads together.

The two of them have had little time together. Since Peru, all Blue seems to do is sleep. Red just lets him. All they want is to take care of each other. Now they’ll at least get a couple minutes to catch up.

Dok and Trick are entertaining themselves with ransacking the house, even Henrik looking happy with the change, though Dapper sees how he limps as he tries to keep up with his over-excited twin.

“There’s a motherfucking pool!” Trick shouts from one side of the house.

“The pantry is stuffed!” answers Dok from the kitchen.

“Hey, ping pong, haha!”

“Oh… a library.”

“And all sorts of instruments, Dok, come look!”

“Fuck, a whole alcohol cabinet. Trick, you’re going to - ”

“Stay away, I know, I know!”

“The doors all lock electronically anyway,” answers Anti mildly, examining the garage, where a couple old-fashioned cars in need of repairs are exhausted against the earth or jacked up on a long-abandoned raise. He shuts the garage and turns away, his dark gaze flickering over Dapper for a moment, who stares back without challenge in his eyes. “So don’t go trying to pull a fast one on me, I’ll lock you in.”

He steps closer to Dapper, patting his back as he passes.

“Upstairs is all for you and me, love,” he says. “We can stay in the master bedroom. Isn’t that nice?”

Dapper nods, glancing up at the stairs. No. He doesn’t think he likes this house. But he knows to say yes.

“It’s good,” Anti re-iterates, tilting his head at him.

Dapper feels the need for more of a response waiting in the air between them, but Anti just looks at him.

“Thank you,” he says after a moment.

Even this does not seem to satisfy Anti. His brother draws back uncertainly, touching his back again, looking at him.

“Your moods will steady out again soon as the medicine kicks in,” says Anti, tugging on a curl of his hair. “Go, go upstairs and get settled.”

Dapper glances at Blue and Red whispering together on the couch and Dok and Trick playing with the settings on the fridge.

He turns and heads upstairs.

Just settle, something in his head is telling him. Be excited. It’ll be nice here. You’ll be spoiled because of the attempt. Just settle down again. Settle. Settle.

He wants to. He always has before. And it has kept him alive and favored and sometimes even sane.

But he doesn’t know how to settle again. There was, for just a moment, on the side of that cliff, a taste of freedom.

The craving has not died.

.

Anonymous asked: red, blue, how are you two doing?

“How are you feeling?” asks Red, rubbing his thumb over Blue’s beard.

“Better now that you’re here,” answers Blue, grinning up at him.

Red purses his mouth in an exaggerated kissy face and leans in. Blue bursts into laughter and swats at his head, pushing him away - but his laughter devolves into deep coughing and he ends up splayed across Red’s shoulder, his head down on his back, wheezing through the fit.

“The cameras said you were sick,” says Red. “And all I could do was just know about it and do nothing. And know it was my fault.”

Blue’s face contorts. “No… it wasn’t your fault.”

“I left you behind.”

“You were scared,” says Blue, stroking the back of his head. “I understand.”

“No, Blue, really, please… I’m sorry. Okay? I want you to know you’re important to me. You’re more important than - ”

“Don’t,” whispers Blue, cutting him off. “Don’t say things that will get you in trouble.”

Red sighs, gripping his hand. “I am sorry.”

“Thank you,” murmurs Blue. “I was angry for a while. But mostly I’ve just missed you.”

“Dumb old me?”

“Dumb old you,” chuckles Blue.

“I’m never going to leave you behind again,” says Red. “I swear.”

He draws him into a tight hug. For a long moment, they just rest together, and they hold each other.

“I think there was something else you were going to tell me all about,” adds Blue after a moment.

“Hm?”

“Something about… a boyyyy?”

Red flushes even deeper than the night before, burying his face in Blue’s shirt, and his twin just laughs and holds him tight, rocking them against the fancy couch.

Anonymous asked: Blue, is he possessing you EVERY night? Like have you been allowed any recovery time between possessions at all?

Blue coughs again and rubs at his bleeding eye. “It’s been at least every morning,” he says. “It’s horrible. And then I’m so tired I just sleep all day… but yeah, night and morning is when his sickness is the worst, he says, so if he wears me, he doesn’t get sick. The magic just thinks it’s back in my skin. Where it should be.”

“Morning sickness,” says Red wisely. “Like a pregnant lady.”

“Fuck, imagine a baby Anti.”

“That’s just Dapper.”

“You take that back!” snorts Blue, punching him in the arm. “How fucking dare you - I am enraged - he is the sweetest - fuck you, Ro!”

Red laughs, getting up to adjust Blue on the couch, trying to make him more comfortable. “No, he isn’t. I’m just kidding. Dapper isn’t really like Anti at all. But he did tear the guy who owned this house to shreds last night.”

“He’s got a little of Anti’s ferocity in him,” sighs Blue, listing back against the pillows. “If he could, he’d use it for nice things.”

“Maybe I can convince Anti to possess me at night sometimes instead of you.”

“I don’t think it’s the same.”

“There’s only so much more of this you can take, Blue.”

Blue shrugs, rubbing at his face. “At least Dok’s allowed to look after me.”

Anonymous asked: Hey dapper, are you doing alright? Relatively, anyway.

“Doing alright, doing alright,” he answers politely. “Just… yes. Fine…”

He climbs the stairs step-by-step, weaving his way up to the second floor. He glances over the side of the banister as he reaches the top, and then just as quickly draws away, stepping back, blinking rapidly. He puts an uncertain arm around his stomach and turns away from the ledge, his mouth twisting.

Anonymous asked: dapper? are you ok?

“Never been nervous about heights before,” he signs, laughing a little, though his arm wraps protectively around his stomach again as soon as he’s done talking. He spots the fanciest door yet and nods his head at you, drawing you towards it.

“Big master bedroom!” he signs. “Big, big!”

He holds his arms out comically wide and smiles at you. This is, you suspect, his attempt at being cheerful, but it’s pretty weak, especially considering how sunken his eyes seem.

It is a big room, though, and the bed is just as unnecessarily enormous, spreading across one whole wall, a big California king.

Dapper killed the man who used to sleep there just yesterday. His hands reach gently out and smooth over the pillow, pushing the wrinkles away, leaving it smooth and white and blameless.

It’s a clean white room with some dressers and drawers. There’s a big bathroom attached, with a tub and everything, but he doesn’t much care. At least there’s a wide window with a nice sill. He pushes the glass open and sticks his head out for a moment, taking a deep, deep breath.

“It’s gorgeous out here,” he tells you. “See, look.”

Ah, the world spreads wide from out this window, as if every beauty there is to be had can be found somewhere in the gaps between the trees and the glowing of the sun over the leaves and the movement of the birds in the air. The forest sweeps faraway from him, gold and red and glowing. The wind ruffles his soft hair.

Dapper sinks down onto the ledge of the window and folds his arms beneath his chin.

Do you remember the days when you would sit with him on the sill of his window in Norway, and he would wait for the Northern lights to come? Do you remember the faint smile on his face and the way he would chatter to you and the joy in his eyes over things like fish and chips and trips to the store? Do you remember the smudged wall where he drew something he once loved and then covered it up once again, because remembering was so much more trouble than it was worth?

He is not that man now.

He does not speak to you. He does not smile. His eyes are fixed on the sky, but he knows there is nothing coming.

Anonymous asked: Dap, I don't mean to pry if you don't want to talk, but remember you have support in your brothers and with us no matter how strange things get. I know things have changed (again) And we can't tell you HOW to feel, only it is OKAY to feel.

He turns to glance at you and he tries to smile again, bringing you fondly to his chest, the better for you to see the world outside.

“I feel sad,” he admits after a long moment. “But what’s the point in that?”

“How do you like it?”

Anti’s voice startles him and Dapper jolts, slamming his head into the top of the window. Anti gives a sharp “oh!” and glitches even closer, cupping his face in one hand and running the other through Dapper’s hair, looking for a goose egg.

“Poor thing,” he says, frowning down at him. “That’s no fun, smacking your little head.”

Dapper shakes his head wearily, his face scrunched up with pain.

“But you like the room?”

“Yes, Anti.”

“Well, you can have the whole top floor to yourself, except Blue and Dok will be around at night. And brother, of course.”

“Of course.”

Anti stands behind him for a second, petting his hair, looking out at the world with him.

“Pretty, huh?”

“I hate all these fucking squirrels,” says Anti. “And the birds. Yuck.”

“You’re the worst,” signs Dapper, with an odd sort of fondness.

Anti kisses the side of his head. “No more hurting yourself, right?”

“Yes, Anti.”

“Okay. Cause if you ever scare me like that again - ” Anti’s grip tightens around his chin. “You’ll really regret it, alright, little man?”

“Yes, Anti.”

He smiles and lets him go, moving around the room and beginning to explore.

Anonymous asked: you don't need to pretend, dapper. you can be honest with us. i take it you're still feeling bad, and i can't blame you after all that happened. at least this house is nice? a tiny silver lining in amongst everything else.

“I’m hoping I will feel better soon,” Dapper agrees, watching Anti move around the room. “I was hoping he would get me a kitten or a puppy or a mouse or something since Trick got a kitten after his attempt, but I don’t think anything would convince Anti to let a pet in his room. But, yes, the house is nice. We will not be cold or too hungry I’m hoping!”

“This bathroom stinks,” complains Anti, throwing his head and retreating from inside. “That’s horrible.”

“It smells bad?”

“There’s like a million lotions and bath bombs and soaps and dumb shit in here. That’s so strong. It reeks of rose.”

Dapper blinks, getting up from the sill and stepping over towards Anti. He steps into the bathroom.

The flowery scents are almost overwhelming and Dapper’s pretty sure Anti’s nose is stronger than a normal human’s. But to him, it still smells pretty nice. The tub is huge, coated in little baskets of soaps and bath fizzies and shampoos and things. There’s even candles and bubble bath. It’s a little pretentious, but pretty fun too.

“Does it smell that strong to you?” asks Dapper, turning to frown at his brother.

Anti gags, backing away from the room. “Feel like I walked into a Bed, Bath, and whatever. Better keep that door shut. Check there’s nothing rowan, too. I’m going to go look around the forest.”

“What? You’re going down to the forest? You hate nature.”

“Apt. But I have someone I need to find, and if I don’t start looking, they’ll just find me first.” Anti grins coyly, eyes trailing away. “It’s an excellent game to play.”

“Okay. I - ”

Anti has already glitched away.

Dapper pauses, looking around the room.

An idea starts to form in his head.

cest-mellow asked: jameson, things are gonna be okay. you can have your family again, you’ll get them back. but you all have to work together in this. don’t. settle. just wait for the moment to strike. all five of you need to be in on this.

Dapper can tell when Blue and Doktor are plotting.

A change has come over them from the last time he saw them. It isn’t something he can put his finger on - more of a feeling.

More like deja vu. Like he’s seeing someone he hasn’t seen in a long time.

But the point is that when they come up the stairs at ten o clock exactly, he knows from the way they exchange looks and brush each other’s hands - they are thinking of something they should not be thinking of.

He knows he should tell them off, but he doesn’t have the heart.

“I don’t think Trick acts normal at all. I worry he’s only getting worse.”

“Red is a wreck since Anti took him back. He can’t focus.”

“And Dapper?”

“I haven’t spent much time with him yet - I never do - but he’s melancholy, he’s tired, he’s - sitting at the top of the stairs watching us! Hi, buddy!”

Dapper smiles softly, letting his head rest against the bars of the stairs. “You two are not very sneaky,” he signs.

“We’re not sneaking,” protests Blue, pausing for a breath halfway up the stairs. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dok doesn’t seem to think it’s funny, though. His face is lost and afraid. He doesn’t want to wait. He doesn’t want to scheme. He wants to act.

His family can’t take any more of this. It’s only a matter of time before the cracks become chasms.

But you’re right, and that’s the worst part. He can’t save his siblings from themselves. He needs all five.

Dok and Blue make it to the top of the stairs and give their little brother a hug, feeling him meld against their bodies. This is the only way they have to promise it right now - you can have your family again. Here we are.

“Boring day?”

“The cameras and I did some exploring.”

“Good. Come on, then. Let’s get ready for bed.”

Anonymous asked: Are there others allowed upstairs here? Are you allowed down? I know Trick is technically "in charge" now but I don't know if any rules have changed with the hierarchy.

“Anti told us to come up at ten, so we did,” says Blue, sitting on the bed. Dapper sits down by his feet, scooping his puppets into boxes. Though he endures bouts of clarity, he felt himself justified in spending most of the day distracted, day-dreaming with his toys.

Dok paces in the doorway, eyes narrowed, mouth taut as a drawn bow.

“Dok, relax,” says Blue quietly.

Henrik shakes his head hard, fists gritted. “He should stay away from you.”

Blue’s face contorts with stress. He wraps his arms around himself, trying to immortalize the feeling of his body belonging to him before it’s taken away yet again. And again, and again, and again…

Dapper rests his head against his knee and hugs his calf, staring up at him.

Anti, if you switch through the many cameras connected to your system in the great house, is coming back out of the forest. He has been gone most of the day, letting them have their peace, but Henrik knew that wouldn’t last.

“Where was he?” asks Henrik.

“I fear to ask,” answers Dapper. “I fear to imagine. There are few people in the world Anti would call his ally, and I wouldn’t like to meet any of them ever again.”

“Anti’s never introduced us to anyone.”

“Anti’s never introduced you to anyone,” Dapper corrects him coolly.

Blue’s back slams against the door of the shower, pinning him hard along the glass. He cries out and hears Henrik shouting on the other side of the bathroom, screeching for Anti to stop. Dapper is noiseless, but, opening his exhausted eyes, he can see his youngest brother staring back at him from the doorway, eyes wide.

“Dok, don’t fight, don’t fight,” he croaks.

Anti’s foot connects with the side of Blue’s head. Henrik shrieks and throws himself at Anti, tearing at his face with his long white nails, and Anti slams him into the bathroom sink hard. Henrik grips at his jarred hip with a gasp, crumbling to his knees on the cold tile of the floor.

Everything smells like blood and rose.

“You are the one who’s fighting,” laughs Anti, turning his attention back to Blue with something burning like a flame in blackened eyes, as a match already consumed by its fire. “So weak. So frail. And still he thinks he can resist me by closing his eyes and walling up his mind.”

Anti grabs Blue by the collar and hauls him to his feet. He starts to shake Blue, shoving him against the shower door, and Blue can only gasp as his head is struck back against the door.

“You two think you have any control?” hisses Anti, slamming him back again. “You think you have anything? You think you can do anything? I’m in control. I’m in control! Stop - trying - to fight me!”

The defenses in Blue’s mind crash to the ground and he cries out in his last moment of being his own for the night. He hears Dapper make a soft, mournful noise, and perhaps even sees his white hands reach out for Anti as though to tell him to stop - but it isn’t enough to save him.

Oil floods beneath Blue’s skin. Heat crawls across his face and buries itself in his stomach. His thoughts paralyze and then sink, and he is drowned back into the back of his mind, struggling to breathe but feeling Anti’s lungs moving instead, struggling to speak but feeling Anti’s lips part with words, struggling to stay conscious but sinking, sinking, sinking down into a place with no awareness.

It is Anti who opens his eyes.

“Monster!” Henrik is howling, trying to get up from the floor, his side bleeding anew. “Fucking monster, fucking creep! We’re not yours! We don’t belong to you! You can’t steal his own skin from him like that! You’re a monster, fuck you!” He curses at him in German, throwing himself forward again. Anti intercepts his punch. Dok never has been his strongest fighter.

“Anti, don’t hurt him,” Dapper’s hands beg. “Please! He’s just scared!”

Anti slams Henrik’s head into the clean white porcelain of the sink.

“Blame it on the magicians, Anti, he isn’t himself!”

Anti slams Henrik’s head into the blood on the porcelain of the sink.

“Trickshot can probably hear this, Anti!”

The sight of the name on his hands in the mirror stiffens Anti’s shoulders.

Henrik groans, his glasses broken on one side of his face and blood dripping through his hair. Anti lets go of him and he slumps to the ground, dazed and nauseous, gripping meekly at the wound in his head, a whimper falling from his mouth. Dapper moves forward to be with him, but, without even turning to look, Anti snags his throat and shoves him away.

“Go get in your fucking bed,” he growls, his eyes dark. He’s flickering through the cameras. Did Trickshot hear that? Did Red? He’ll break the pair of them down to atoms too if he has to, but he’d prefer to let good dogs be good dogs, and not incite their snapping.

Trickshot is in the kitchen in a pair of new shorts Anti bought him and a shirt covered in cacti, nibbling on a Poptart. He hasn’t reacted to the banging or the shouting. He might not have heard it. Red, for his part, is picking at the poetry books in the library, his eyes faraway and dreamy. Anti relaxes.

“Motherfucker,” Henrik slurs. He tries to get back to his feet, but only succeeds in slumping back down to the tile. Anti regards him coldly.

“You really did let yourself get stupid,” he says. “You really have forgotten just how much better it is to be obedient than rebellious.”

He reaches down to grab Henrik by the hair, dragging him up. Henrik moans, struggling to balance himself, staggering as Anti pulls him towards the door.

“I broke you in once,” hisses Anti. “And you hated me more then, believe it or not. You hated me more then and I shattered you like the broken thing you were always meant to be. Come on, Henrik. If this is the game you want to play, let’s play. I’ll take you to your room.”

Anonymous asked: Trick, Trickshot, go upstairs, go upstairs right now, Anti is hurting Dok, Anti is beating your twin, please if this gets through go help him

“No, no, no, no no no!” laughs Anti, snatching a camera from Dapper’s hand as he marches Dok down the hall. “This is a new era, ladies and gents and all my lovely prefer not to answers out there! I’m sick of your bullshit. You’re here for my entertainment and I am the ONLY one in control. I am the only one here with any power over what happens next. Good luck fucking wrestling it from me. I’m a god among ants. If I say this message doesn’t go to Trick, then it doesn’t go to Trick. Not that he’d come upstairs anyway. He knows the rules and the master who sets them.”

Dapper races out onto the first floor after them, whistling for Anti’s attention, trying to catch up. Anti moves two doors down and finds the third at the back of the floor, a white door, tightly closed. He throws it open and pushes Henrik inside.

It isn’t a finished room. Clearly someone - someone a very long time ago, it seems - had plans to redo it, because half of the carpet has been stripped down to hard grey flooring and the room is bare and cold and undecorated. Henrik sees something skitter in the side of the room. He is too concussed for his pupils to shrink in fear.

“Tr-iiick,” he slurs out, grasping at Anti’s hands. “Trick, plea…”

“He can’t help you now,” snaps Anti. “Unless you want to tell him what I’m doing and have him take your place?”

“No!” cries Henrik. “No, leave him ‘lone. Bruder… he’s lost in his hhhead…”

Anonymous asked: henrik, is he still hurting you right now?

Anti opens a white closet and shoves Henrik to his knees, slamming the door behind him. It takes him only a second to fetch chain, ignoring Dapper’s protests the whole time. He chains together the wooden doors of the closet, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

“I don’t like this, I don’t like this, I don’t want to do this anymore!” Dapper is screaming at him, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “Please, he doesn’t need to be hurt!”

“Stop it, Dap!” snaps Anti, whirling to grab his wrist. “If you start causing me problems you’re going to get the same treatment, damn your freak snaps! I’m not losing what’s mine now. He’ll be Dok before you know it and then everything will go back to normal again, and you and I can be brothers like we were.”

He steps into Dapper’s space, grabbing his chin and walking him back towards their room, his eyes boring into him. “Isn’t that what you want? Don’t you want to be brothers again? Don’t you remember when we were friends?”

“The person you showed me you were since the time when I loved you is more terrible and cruel than I ever let myself imagine. A child loved you. I am a man.”

Something more horrible than rage burns in Anti’s eyes. He does not let go of Dapper’s chin, backing him up, up, up, towards their bedroom, ink and blood dripping from his canine mouth.

“I am going to forget you said that,” he whispers, his eyes crimson. “Just. This. Once. Do you understand?”

Dapper closes his eyes, his back thumping against the door of the bedroom.

Anonymous asked: If he can't get into your brain then he's fucking powerless compared to you, Henrik, you are strong beyond wildest imagination. The only reason he got you the first time was because he wormed and hypnotized his way into you mind but he can't do that now. Remember the necklaces he's useless to remove. You have power. You have strength. You have control. He can never take the "Henrik" out of you completely.

Henrik is so concussed he can barely see straight.

It takes him long minutes to find you in the dim light of the closet, slowly leaning against the wall and hoisting himself up until he’s reached an approximation of a sitting position, his head swaying when he takes it away from the wall even for a moment. He can’t quite read the message on the camera in the corner of the closet, but he thinks he gets the gist. You see his hands enclose around the triplet necklaces on his breast, coughing.

“I am Henrik no matter what he tries to mmmake of me,” he whispers, slumping down against the wall. “I… am…”

His eyes are closed.

cest-mellow asked: anti, obviously torturing and hurting the boys hasn’t worked so far, what in the HELL makes you think it’ll work now?? they will ALWAYS rebel. always. you will go down and all five of them will be dancing on your grave.

“I saw the lights go out of their eyes one-by-one,” he hisses, his eyes like those of a dog’s. “I saw them die in the blood on my hands. I made Jameson kiss me and Jackie risk his life for mine. I made Marvin a loyalist and Henrik a torturer. I made Jack’s perfect, loyal, loving little copycat boy mine.”

He pushes Dapper onto the bed. His little brother stares back at him. In the moonlight, Dapper’s eyes, for one moment, look as black as Anti’s.

“It worked,” says Anti, turning his back on him to fetch him PJs from their backpack. “It worked. It just needs a refresher. I am already dancing on the graves that I buried them in.”

pine-storm-season asked: Anti, what are you doing to him?

“I won’t do anything if you’re good,” says Anti, with the much-too-level voice of an aggressor who thinks that non-violence is mercy. “I told you - I think we should be friends again. You’re a good boy and I’ve always liked you. You’ve been under too much stress lately and you’re very ill, that’s all that’s wrong. You’ll come back to yourself soon enough. You and I, after all, are intertwined.”

He leans into Dapper’s face. Dapper can smell Blue’s toothpaste.

“Don’t make me meld you back into me through fire,” warns Anti, a bright orange begonia curling around his ear.

Anonymous asked: Dapper you need to reverse, please. You can prevent this, change this.

“Don’t you dare,” warns Anti, pointing back at him. Dapper does not quake underneath his gaze. “Don’t you even think about it. I’ll know. Your eyes will be silver for at least twenty minutes and you’re not getting that long alone tonight. Besides, I’d smell you. That smell that imprinted on you when you were new to the world. I would know the smell of your magic anywhere. You better watch what those cameras tell you, Mr. Monochroma… one of these days, they’re going to get you in trouble.”

He throws red fleece pants and a penguin t-shirt at Dapper.

“Get changed, puppy,” he orders. “I’m tired. Let’s sleep.”

Blue’s body sways and Anti shakes his head out, dizzied. It’s a lot of strain for this body.

cest-mellow asked: dapper do you think if you turned back time and just stabbed anti before he could take over blue it could do anything? especially when he’s sick, just a good JAB right in the heart?? i am being 100% serious.

“Yeah, try that, Dapper,” mocks Anti, pushing into his space again. “Put a dagger into my heart. Go on, do it.”

Dapper turns his head away. He won’t hurt Anti while he’s wearing Blue.

“But even if I wasn’t in this skin, could you do it then?” asks Anti. “Could you stab big brother who raised you?”

“You and I both know stab wounds can’t kill you,” snarl Dapper’s hands, his blue eyes flashing. “Nothing ever kills you.”

Anti laughs, throwing his head back. Dapper sees Blue’s molars.

“You are a clever boy,” he murmurs with a strange, hateful sort of affection, wrapping a hand gently around Dapper’s throat. “Much cleverer than you know, most of the time. Tomorrow you’ll be like a child again - or a fucking nutcase.”

Anonymous asked: You’re gonna lose them all if you aren’t careful Anti. Keep pushing them and you’ll lose all of them sooner than rather than later. -🍂

“Red and I made the rules very clear,” says Anti, his eyes seeping to black. He pushes Dapper again and his little brother takes the hint, lying carefully down on the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Anti circles the bed, watching him for any sign of aggression. “One more try, we said. If I can’t tame them this time, it’s finished. I’ll set the house on fire and burn them all down. So let them break from me if they want to - either way, I’m finishing this charade we play.”

Anonymous asked: Reverse, Dapper. Roses and rowan.

“Rowan? Don’t threaten him. He’s allergic.” Anti crawls into bed beside him, sitting up against the headboard and staring down at Dapper, still at his side. “You know if you reverse I’ll see your silver eyes and I’ll beat you til you have to eat through a straw.”

Anonymous asked: Interesting fuckin philosophy there. Do buried and dead people commonly resurface like every month and try and murder you, run away, find themselves, love each other more then they've ever loved you, abandon you like you deserve, and consistently hate you in whatever fantasy land you live in Anti?

“You always all try to rile me up,” says Anti. “Sometimes you’ve succeeded, I’ll give you that. I was not created for anger management. But in the end, you are powerless spectators. Harassing me is all you can do. You know I’m in control.”

Anonymous asked: You just left Henrich there?? Anti he's so concussed he passed out and he has a major bleeding head wound what the fuck are you thinking? I wouldn't be surprised if you find him dead tomorrow, just leaving him there!

“Then Dapper can have the password and reverse,” says Anti happily, snuggling down into the covers beside him. “It’s happened before, hasn’t it, love?”

“Yes… Red bled out after you tortured him, back when I was young… sometimes you would kill him for fun, just to make me reverse it.”

“Your memory is clear right now. You are incredible, Dapper. No one else ever gets memories back after I take them.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, I'd genuinely like to know, what is your plan here? I don't think you can change how they feel about you by hurting them worse, especially since that's what caused it in the first place. You can't fix the effects of what you've done by just doing it more fiercely.

“I told you I came here to get help,” says Anti. “They like to play hard to find… I suspect we might have to get their attention, haha. Worth it, though. They’re the only one who was ever any fun.”

He reaches down and tangles his fingers in Dapper’s hair, scratching warmly at his scalp. “Them and my pets, of course. You’re all naive to say violence couldn’t turn them to my side. That’s what worked in the first place. The only thing that worked. Violence and the need to belong and the conviction that I was a part of their family. The violence comes easy to me, the need to belong is created by the separation from their twins, and the conviction that I belong - well, you saw what I did to Trick is Singapore. It’s mind games, baby. I’ve got my little brother to cover my tracks if anything goes wrong. Only I got the password to this little ace in my sleeve.”

He tugs on Dapper’s hair, smiling down at him. “I’ve been lax, that’s all. I’ve been lax. I won’t be again. If someone steps a foot out of line - ”

Glurk.

Anti’s throat splits open so wide you can see his spine and he bursts into laughter, the threat written in the blood dripping down his neck.

cest-mellow asked: you can make up a story, dapper. theres rats in that white room, one got out and into the bed and anti panicked so bad and it scared you snd you turned back. no password needed.

“Wow, they really want you to,” says Anti, smiling at him. “Go on, then. Do it, Dapper. Reverse. Go back. Make up a story. As if I would ever buy that you’d be afraid of a rat instead of trying to keep it as a pet. As if the first thing I always scream when I’m scared isn’t the password to let you go back and save me. As if I didn’t just promise that the slightest slip-up in behavior - the slightest bend in the rules - would lead you to a beating.”

Dapper swallows dryly.

“I’ll kill all four of your siblings in front of you and make you watch,” whispers Anti, leaning in close, his breath warm against Blue’s ears. “I’ll take you off your medicine. I’ll feed you your fingers and make you murder Henrik with your own two - ”

Dapper goes back in t

This post was reblogged with the following addition.

Anonymous asked: Are there others allowed upstairs here? Are you allowed down? I know Trick is technically "in charge" now but I don't know if any rules have changed with the hierarchy.

my-brothers-corrupted:

“Anti told us to come up at ten, so we did,” says Blue, sitting on the bed. Dapper sits down by his feet, scooping his puppets into boxes. Though he endures bouts of clarity, he felt himself justified in spending most of the day distracted, day-dreaming with his toys.

Dok paces in the doorway, eyes narrowed, mouth taut as a drawn bow.

“Dok, relax,” says Blue quietly.

Henrik shakes his head hard, fists gritted. “He should stay away from you.”

Blue’s face contorts with stress. He wraps his arms around himself, trying to immortalize the feeling of his body belonging to him before it’s taken away yet again. And again, and again, and again…

Dapper rests his head against his knee and hugs his calf, staring up at him.

Anti, if you switch through the many cameras connected to your system in the great house, is coming back out of the forest. He has been gone most of the day, letting them have their peace, but Henrik knew that wouldn’t last.

“Where was he?” asks Henrik.

“I fear to ask,” answers Dapper. “I fear to imagine. There are few people in the world Anti would call his ally, and I wouldn’t like to meet any of them ever again.”

“Anti’s never introduced us to anyone.”

“Anti’s never introduced you to anyone,” Dapper corrects him coolly.

Addition:

Dapper’s calm facade shatters in a second.

“Whoa,” says Blue, seeing the sudden change in his face. “Honey, are you - ?”

Dapper throws himself forward and wraps himself like a hungry octopus around Blue’s body, tackling him onto the bed and burying himself in his chest, hiding, hiding, holding him.

“Dapper,” cries Blue, worried. “Dap, Dap… it’s okay, baby. It’s okay. What’s wrong? Oh, love.”

Dok murmurs his concerns beside them, coming up to put his hand gently on Dapper’s back. He clucks his chin once, twice, but Dapper won’t look up. Dapper won’t let go. He hides.

Blue whispers reassurances to him. Henrik strokes the back of his head. They exchange scared looks.

Anonymous asked: blue, hen, he rewound. if you need to disguise his magic, the bathroom full of stuff will cover the scent. if you knock a few things over and make it look like an accident and get it on him, that might work. i don't know how to hide his eyes, though.

On the path that leads up to the forest, you see Anti stop short.

“I’m sorry, he did what?”

Anonymous asked: Go into the bathroom before Anti gets here. Boy that soap and bath salts and lotion sure does sound smelly and potent *coughcough*

“Fuck!” snarls Anti, stalking towards the house. “That fucking bathroom covers the smell of him, doesn’t it? I’m going to waterboard him. That little shit. He thinks he can stop me? He thinks anyone else can control me? I’ll lock him into a fucking box like I did when he was small.”

pine-storm-season asked: Anti, Henrik wasn't cooperating and you decided to punish him, but you hurt him really badly and Dapper panicked and rewound without thinking.

“No, he thought,” says Anti, face shifting with rage, teeth building in his mouth. “He thought because I have ingrained into him throughout the course of his entire life that he should never, never, never rewind without thinking. He just pretends. You let him fool you. He’s always thinking. Snake child… he takes after me.”

Anonymous asked: blue fell and hit his head so dapper rewound, yes

“Uh-oh,” sings Anti, smiling coldly at you. “Two conflicting stories, how strange - and I bet if I went and asked Dapper right now, he would tell me a third. It almost makes me wonder if you’re not all fucking liars.”

cest-mellow asked: trick, do you think you could distract anti? just for a little bit? blue isn’t ready to be possessed again, it’s making him so so sick and anti just won’t pay attention :((

Trick looks up from his Poptart, blinking at you, worried.

He was already stressed about being separated from Dok for the night, and the thought of Blue being possessed makes him want to throw up. He drops his Poptart immediately, turning to see Anti stepping in through the back door.

“Anti!” calls Trick, moving towards him. “Hey, what’s going on? You look pissed. Hold up, please. Blue’s not well.”

Anti blinks, pausing. “Come on, Tricky. You’re letting them manipulate you.”

Trick’s eyes water. “Look, Anti, it’s just - there’s been, like, a lot of change lately, and now I can’t be with Dok even though we were apart for like, weeks, and Blue is really seriously sick, but you’re still p-possessing him, and - you know that I don’t really like possession, it makes me feel - ”

Trick shakes his head quickly, a little green in the face. Anti tilts his head at him, alarmed, but his eyes keep looking up to the stairs. “Trick, come on, my love. You can handle this just fine. I need to go talk to Dapper.”

“It just makes me feel really scared, and I don’t want to be alone! I don’t want to, don’t - can’t I have Dok, Anti, please? I hate this new plan, I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say, but - ”

“Trick,” growls Anti, but it turns into a sigh. “Fine. Have Dok for tonight. I need to go teach Dapper a lesson.”

Anonymous asked: Fine, here's the story that's the truth and it's the one he'd tell you if you got the true one. You hurt Henrik and Blue so badly that Henrik might have died locked in a room alone, bled out. You were being a stubborn asshole and refused to check up on Henrik or do anything to keep him from potentially dying. It scared your audience, scared Dapper too, so we convinced him to rewind without your permission.

“What? That doesn’t make sense. Dapper could have just waited til the morning to see if Dok was fine and rewound then if he wasn’t. Why would he just disobey me like that if he wasn’t being rebellious? He knows I’d let him rewind if anything deadly ever happened to them.”

pine-storm-season asked: Henrik, he rewound because you got badly hurt from not cooperating and he panicked and did it without thinking, as far as we could tell. Anti might be mad though.

Henrik looks up, alarmed, but a moment later only fury is flashing through his eyes.

“He does mean to torture me,” he says, voice low. “It’s true, then.”

Dapper grabs Dok’s face between his hands for a second, demanding his attention. Henrik stares back into his silver eyes, startled by the intensity he finds there.

“I know what I said,” signs Dapper rapidly, tears coursing down his cheeks. “That I didn’t want you to fight. But I was lying, Healing. I was too scared of what he would do to you. But the truth is I can’t live like this anymore! I need you to fight for me, Henrik. I need you.”

Fire lights up Henrik’s blood. He grips Dapper’s arms, staring at him, something vibrant and warm and familiar crossing through his chest. He laughs and doesn’t know why.

“For you,” says Henrik, shaking his head in astonishment. “For you, let him torture me.”

Anonymous asked: He rewound, you didn't get back in time to tell him the password. That's why he's so terrified.

“Still naughty of him. He should know better.”

Anonymous asked: Maybe this time around don't nearly murder Henrik and we won't be so rash. You claim to have control but can't control your own outbursts.

Anti stares at you dead in the eye of the camera.

“Trick,” he says. “Sit down.”

“What?”

“Sit down,” repeats Anti coldly.

Trick sinks to the floor, frightened.

Anti stalks up the stairs.

Henrik turns around, standing over Dapper and Blue on the bed.

Anti takes one step forward

and Henrik straightens up, proud

and Anti shanks Henrik through the ribs.

Blue screams like he’s the one being murdered, staggering to his feet, his cry shrill enough the birds scatter. Dapper lurches forward as if he’ll be ill, clutching at his throat, closing his eyes desperately. Anti stares down at him, his eyes piercing through him.

And Henrik?

He tumbles to the ground, staining red the carpet, and he chokes as his lungs fill.

“Is this what you wanted?” shouts Anti, slapping Dapper’s face and shoving him off the bed. “Is that what you prefer, that outcome?”

Dapper sobs, burying his face in his hands and backing rapidly away from Anti, his hands clutching at the golden hilt of the knife in his pocket. He’ll kill him for this!

“And you!” snarls Anti, whirling on the camera, pointing the life-blood-stained blade up at your one black eye. “Never tell me what to do again. Never tell me what to do ag

This post was reblogged again with a third addition.

Anonymous asked: Are there others allowed upstairs here? Are you allowed down? I know Trick is technically "in charge" now but I don't know if any rules have changed with the hierarchy.

my-brothers-corrupted:

my-brothers-corrupted:

“Anti told us to come up at ten, so we did,” says Blue, sitting on the bed. Dapper sits down by his feet, scooping his puppets into boxes. Though he endures bouts of clarity, he felt himself justified in spending most of the day distracted, day-dreaming with his toys.

Dok paces in the doorway, eyes narrowed, mouth taut as a drawn bow.

“Dok, relax,” says Blue quietly.

Henrik shakes his head hard, fists gritted. “He should stay away from you.”

Blue’s face contorts with stress. He wraps his arms around himself, trying to immortalize the feeling of his body belonging to him before it’s taken away yet again. And again, and again, and again…

Dapper rests his head against his knee and hugs his calf, staring up at him.

Anti, if you switch through the many cameras connected to your system in the great house, is coming back out of the forest. He has been gone most of the day, letting them have their peace, but Henrik knew that wouldn’t last.

“Where was he?” asks Henrik.

“I fear to ask,” answers Dapper. “I fear to imagine. There are few people in the world Anti would call his ally, and I wouldn’t like to meet any of them ever again.”

“Anti’s never introduced us to anyone.”

“Anti’s never introduced you to anyone,” Dapper corrects him coolly.

First time jump

Dapper’s calm facade shatters in a second.

“Whoa,” says Blue, seeing the sudden change in his face. “Honey, are you - ?”

Dapper throws himself forward and wraps himself like a hungry octopus around Blue’s body, tackling him onto the bed and burying himself in his chest, hiding, hiding, holding him.

“Dapper,” cries Blue, worried. “Dap, Dap… it’s okay, baby. It’s okay. What’s wrong? Oh, love.”

Dok murmurs his concerns beside them, coming up to put his hand gently on Dapper’s back. He clucks his chin once, twice, but Dapper won’t look up. Dapper won’t let go. He hides.

Blue whispers reassurances to him. Henrik strokes the back of his head. They exchange scared looks.

Second time jump

Dapper is sick beside the bed, vomit dripping from his lips, his eyes a fervent silver.

Anonymous asked: Fight, but be rational Henrik. Be safe, wait for the perfect opportunity. I know you and us both can't wait to take down the evil, but caution is a must. You nearly died in the last go through.

“No!” cries Dapper, lurching up from the bed, both of his siblings rearing back in alarm, still calling worried questions at him. Over the both of them, he is signing. “No, Dok, I take it back, don’t fight, don’t - I can’t - coward, I’m a coward!”

“Dapper, what’s going on?”

“Carve, it’s okay, just take a deep breath - Carver!”

Dapper races away from them, his stomach churning.

Anonymous asked: Oh no Dapper you're sick! Better go into the bathroom and lean over the toilet. Blue, Henrik, help him there?

Tearing away from them, he is sick again in that rose bathroom, his eyes reminding him of Blue crumpled against the shower and Dok bleeding against the sink as he gags, just one more memory for no one but him to hold on to. He breathes in panicked gasps, shoving himself back to his feet and locking the door before Blue and Dok can come racing after him. He nearly collapses over the sink, washing his beard and face harshly with a soft cloth and golden milk and honey soap, crying in short bursts, his eyes red and silver. With frantic hands, he starts the bath and leans over the tub, heaving and tearing off his shirt, his heart thumping terribly in his chest.

He covers his face with his hands, sinking down over the side of the tub before he can finish stripping, whimpering in a weak exhale of air.

Anonymous asked: Dap, take deep breaths, okay? Why are you doing this?

Dapper tugs on his hair, shaking his head, too distressed to speak for a long time.

“Why? Why?” he manages finally, swiping at the rapid tears on his face. “You know time travel takes a toll on me and you saw what just happened! What do you mean, why? No matter how many times I watch them die, it never gets easier.”

He buries his face in his arms, feeling broken and useless and stupid and weak.

“I’m not a mistake-fixer, not really. I try to be, Anti wants me to be, but I’m not! I can’t make every situation that goes badly right, no matter how much I want to. I just can’t. If that’s how Dok and Blue are planning to get out of this, tell them it won’t work. I’m not strong or brave and even if I were, time travel never makes everything alright. It’s a trick. It’s a lie. It’s just a curse.”

cest-mellow asked: trick, can you keep anti downstairs for a while? blues gonna be possessed again and it’s making him really really sick. maybe you should get jackie to go upstairs to spend some time with him while he can until his time tonight is gone :((

Trick looks up from his Poptart, blinking at you, worried.

He was already stressed about being separated from Dok for the night, and the thought of Blue being possessed makes him want to throw up. He drops his Poptart immediately, turning to see Anti stepping in through the back door.

“Anti!” calls Trick, moving towards him. “Hey, what’s going on? Where were you?”

“Heya, lil man,” says Anti, tugging Trick to his chest and pressing their foreheads together. Trick grins, relieved to find him in a good mood. “What do you want, trouble-maker?”

“Anti,” grumbles Trick with a laugh. “What am I, a four-year-old?”

“You’re about six, actually.”

“Haha.”

Anti grins at him and draws away, clucking his chin. “I’m going to go get ready for bed. You and Reddy can have whatever room you want down here. Night, my watcher.”

“Anti - wait. Hey, please. Um…”

“What?”

“I think Blue’s really sick, Anti. I’m worried. Can’t Red stay with him?”

“I’m also really sick, Trick, it’s just that Blue’s keeping it under control for me. I need him right now.”

“He’s getting worse, Anti. I hate to say it, but… I think you’re being too rough with his body.”

Anti stares at Trick.

Trick shuffles on his feet, his eyes flickering around the room.

Anti sighs.

“I’ll be gentle, alright?” he says. “For you. I promise.”

“But what if that isn’t enough?”

“You’re paranoid about possession,” says Anti gently. “You always have been. It’s going to be okay. Go get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay, Anti,” murmurs Trick, chewing on his lip.

“And don’t tell Red to go upstairs, alright? You and him aren’t allowed up there. I catch you up there, I’ll throw you right back down.”

“Okay.”

cest-mellow asked: jackie, you’re gonna need to help your twin and dok and dapper upstairs. hes gonna kill one of them these days. dapper is in serious trouble and antis probably gonna possess blue again, make him even more sick. you saw how he was today. can you imagine the toll it’s taking on him? you have to protect him!

Red sits in the library.

He looks up at your beeping and you see his eyes.

From a distance, his gaze was dreamy, faraway, enchanted, perhaps.

From up close?

Red looks sad.

He reads your message once and he blinks. He glances up at the ceiling. For a moment, he breathes. He thinks. He grieves.

“Blue,” he says once, with feeling.

But he doesn’t move. Looks down at his hands. His hands on the pages of a book.

“Listen to this,” he says, and he reads:

It is as if everything else had slept Many an age, unforgotten and lost – The men that were, the things done, long ago, All I have thought; and but the moon and I Live yet and here stand idle over a grave

Where all is buried.

He stares down at the poem.

“I don’t really get it,” he says. “But I think Blue will like it.”

He tears the page from the book. He folds it into a paper airplane. He can’t go upstairs.

Anonymous asked: Yeah I'd say the moral of most time travel stories is "don't screw with time travel." Anti only sees you as an advantage but it's blown up in his face before, I just wish there was a way that the consequences ONLY fall on him without the rest of you getting hurt.

“If I was cleverer I could make that happen,” signs Dapper miserably, wiping at his face. “If I was all the things Jack made me to be. He was the only friend I ever managed to save.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, maybe you could leave Blue himself for just tonight? He's already weak, and the possession is making it worse. His magic doesn't like your body, so I can sort of see why you possess him, but it's making him sicker. Give him a night as himself, and it's quite possible he'll recover a bit.

“I really don’t know how to express to all of you how little I care about Blue’s recovery. I’m inclined to think that him being sick makes him easier to manage, and all I need the body for is sleeping.”

pine-storm-season asked: That's true, but there's going to be a point where he's weak enough that he's harder to manage simply because of the limits of his body. If you let him have occasional nights to recover, I don't think he'll end up getting there.

“Let me know when he gets to that point and maybe I’ll give a fuck then,” answers Anti mildly.

Anonymous asked: Time travel may be Anti's go-to fix for things he doesn't know how to deal with but it doesn't have to be yours, Dap. His over-reliance on your time travel, Blue's magic and body, and his hypnosis to twist things to his liking is going to be his downfall. Despite his efforts, memories linger and he can't hide his tracks in blood.

“I hope that’s true,” signs Dapper.

The lock clicks behind him.

He turns.

He isn’t collected enough to hide the evidence. He isn’t calm. He isn’t determined. He isn’t in control. He never seems to be. Anti sees his silver eyes before he can think to hide himself.

The monster steps forward, staring at him.

He touches JJ’s chin.

“I see you’ve learned a lesson,” says his broken, glitching voice.

Dapper turns away from him, ashamed.

“Yes,” he nods.

“Good, then,” purrs Anti, slapping lightly at his chin. “Silly boy. Stay here. Have your bath. And if you ever try anything like this again…”

He leans in close, eyes flashing. “I will - ”

“Kill all four of my siblings in front of me. Take me off my medicine. Feed me my fingers and make me kill Dok with my own two hands.”

Anti smiles.

Success.

Control.

“Good boy,” he murmurs. “I’ll be back soon.”

He goes.

Anonymous asked: Oh Dapper, JJ, buddy... You're not weak or a coward, not in the slightest. It'll be okay. I know that sounds empty, but it will be, it will. You did good, look what you've prevented now. Those deaths will only be memories, they don't exist in this here-and-now. Chin up, have a bath if you still want one. Baths make good cover-ups for other emotions, other... smells.

Dapper sniffles.

Then snorts out a laugh, looking up at you with his teary eyes.

“Other… smells,” he repeats, finding it funny despite everything, despite his whole life. He stares down at the water in exhaustion.

And Dapper does have a bath. He turns you away - he is, despite everything, a firm believer in the importance of being a gentleman - and he steps into the bath, pouring in the bubbles and the soaps, letting the smell wash across his skin, letting the blood and dust wash away.

Coward, his brain tells him.

Yes, he nods.

And when Anti goes to get Blue and Dok, and Dok raises his hackles, and Blue isn’t complying - well, Anti is gentle with Blue. He promised Trick. But when Anti hurts Dok the same way he hurt him the first time, when Dok is bleeding from the head, when Dok is calling for Trick to help him -

Well.

Dapper doesn’t do anything but sit in his bubbles and let his salt drip into the warm, rosey, coward’s bathwater.

Until, after a moment, he turns you back to him, trusting the bubbles to cover him.

“Hey,” he says, very small and very sad. You hear Henrik give one short cry of pain. “Will you come with me somewhere?”

Anonymous asked: yeah, we'll come with you. and i don't think you're a coward, dap. there are very few things you could do to help, and several of them would put you directly in danger. you're keeping yourself safe. i don't think that makes you a coward.

He breathes out a long sigh, resting his head against the back of the tub. He lets his body relax. His mind drift and search and reminisce. This is a new era, after all, and Anti is sick of uselessly wiping his memories. After all, he doesn’t know that they give Dapper any power.

He finds his clock in the pocket of his discarded pants and wraps his fingers around it. He finds the body of the camera. He touches your side.

Yeah, we’ll come with you.

Okay, he nods. Okay.

For the third time that day, Jameson goes back.

cest-mellow asked: where are we going, jamie?

In his mind, memories are like scrambled eggs.

To place them where they came from is almost impossible. His mind, he feels, has been tossed and turned and stirred into a mess of mashed-together knowledge and recollection, leaving him largely lost and often confused.

But there are moments he recalls. Sometimes. Some days. More and more often, there are moments he recalls.

He can only travel down the timeline, and to do so without splitting the delicate spiderweb of reality requires that he remember something and move towards it. And right now, he just wants to be at peace for a moment. He just wants to feel safe and not to have to see his family in pain.

He goes to the darkness of a closet.

It’s a faint memory in his mind. More than anything, what he recalls is feeling safe.

Dark clothes hung around him. Soft carpet beneath his hands. Something warm pressed to his chest and a pillow at his back. Aloneness and the crack of light through the bottom of the closet door.

The silver rush of time changing around him does not make him sick like it did Red. He is a surfer on a steady wave. When he opens his eyes again, he is in darkness, and you are beside him, and his clock gives a soft light as its silver timer begins to count down.

He sighs and closes his eyes, hugging a stuffed dog to his chest. No one screams. No one raises a hand at him. He sits in the darkness of the closet.

Anonymous asked: Yikes forever :(

He lets out a soft, tired sigh, sinking down onto the pillow and blankets beneath him. Yikes forever is right.

aether-mae asked: Where to J-spirit?

“I guess I don’t know where we are…”

He stares around the closet, blinking.

“It doesn’t feel like one of Anti’s prisons. But this was reckless of me. I probably shouldn’t have come.” He runs a hand through his hair. It’s the same length it is in the present, or at least it feels that way between his fingers.

Anonymous asked: Where are we now, Jameson? Do you know?

“I don’t know if I even want to find out,” he signs in the lowlight, closing his eyes. “Maybe I’ll just stay right here as long as I can. Take a nap with no one touching me. With no one shouting or screaming.”

An interruption in the light beneath the door startles him. He sits up, staring at the socked feet standing in front of the door.

Someone knocks, just gentle.

“Hey. It’s me. Are you okay?”

Anonymous asked: ooooh, jj, are you okay? that can't have been easy to go back again, are you safe where we are?

“I feel safe,” he says. “But sometimes that’s a lie.”

bupine asked: you ok, dap? what are you doing?

“I don’t know,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut like he’s in pain. “I just want everything to leave me alone. I want everything to stop.”

He’s curled down low against the blankets and pillows, hiding his face in their warmth.

“Can I come in?” asks the voice at the door, soft and careful. They sound Irish, though the accent, he thinks, isn’t quite as thick as Red’s. Maybe Blue or Trick. Or Anti, of course. It could always be Anti. “Henrik just cut his thumb, okay, he’s fine. The blood’s all gone now. You don’t have to hide in here if you don’t want to. Wouldn’t you prefer your room, buddy?”

pine-storm-season asked: Do you want to see who that is? I think they're a safe person, but we can't know for sure.

Dapper stares at the door, a shred of light making the blue of his right eye seem endless and clear, golden at the edges, like the eyes of a cat reflecting light. He watches the doorway, at war with himself. He doesn’t want to open the door and find someone who will hurt him. But he wants to be comforted, too. He would like to be comforted even though he knows he doesn’t deserve it. But it could be Anti. It could just be Anti, or Red to pull him by the hair back to his room, or someone he doesn’t even remember who wants to hurt him. He sits up, feeling anxious, grateful for the softness of the toy in his hand. He doesn’t care if it’s childish right now. He just wants to feel okay.

Anonymous asked: We'll be with you wherever you go, Dapper

He nods once. Right. You’re with him. Okay.

bupine asked: who's that at the door? think it's one of your brothers? i don't think it's anti, but i could be wrong. are you gonna open it?

Dapper climbs to his feet even as the figure at the door lets out a sigh. He tiptoes towards the door and feels the other still, noticing his movement on the other side, waiting patiently for Dapper to make his move. He puts his hand on the doorknob and pushes it gently open, staring out with one big blue eye.

The face looking back at him is familiar, and he’s grateful despite the fact that Anti too shares this face with him. His brother cocks his head at him, smiling real gentle at him, trying to be comforting and slow. Dapper’s glad. He feels like he could fall apart.

The room they’re in is a hectic mess. It almost makes him laugh. Clothes and papers and trash and dishes are scattered over the furniture and floor, a Switch and a DS somewhere in the mix and a row of nice caps lined up on the top of one drawer. One wall is lined in baby and toddler pictures of a pair of small, dark-haired kids JJ doesn’t recognize. Someone’s kicked off their Converse by the door.

Dapper smiles and looks back at the person who’s come to get him. His hair is short at the sides and fluffy on the top. He wears a black hood and colorful shorts. He doesn’t remember exactly what all of his siblings used to look like - this person seems so much younger even if only a few years separate this moment from the present - but between his appearance and this room, Dapper thinks he must know who this is. Trick.

No… that wasn’t his name.

It was something different, he doesn’t… he doesn’t quite recall.

“There’s my guy,” says not-Trick fondly, smiling at him. “Doing okay, tough stuff?”

Dapper can’t help the small smile on his face. He rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue in disapproval at being teased, and not-Trick chuckles, stepping back from the door to let him step out.

Anonymous asked: I think I have a hunch on who the person behind the door is, but I really hope i'm wrong

Dapper’s eyes flicker with fear. He turns to glance at you, confused.

“What have you got there?” asks not-Trick. “Camera?”

Dapper shrugs, not sure how to explain. He stares up at his brother, trying to remember his name, chewing on his lip.

“Still nervous?” he asks gently.

Dapper can’t help but nod. He is. He really is. All the time, he feels like. He just wants… he just wants…

He holds out his arms uncertainly. His brother smiles and, without hesitation, moves forward to pull him into a hug, wrapping his arms around him, letting him bury his face in his shoulder.

“I’m really glad you’re here, JJ,” he says. “You know that, don’t you? We all are.”

JJ whimpers and curls his fingers into the soft brown hair at the nape of his neck.

bupine asked: i think that might be chase, if you need to remember his name. be careful, dap.

Chase, that’s it, Chase. He likes the sound of it. He turns his face into his neck and makes his best approximation of the name, hissing air from between his teeth. “Ayy-sssss.”

“Ssssh,” answers his brother, chuckling. “That’s right, that’s me.”

cest-mellow asked: chase, i think you call him c- happy? that’s his name. and he loves you very, very much.

Dapper grins. Stop that, that’s sappy. But it makes him really glad. He hugs him tighter and makes him laugh.

“Okay, little man?” he asks.

“Okay, yeah.”

“You are tough stuff, wasn’t joking. Is there anything you need?”

He shrugs, looking around. He doesn’t know. Maybe to see the others? If they’re here? If they’re safe? If they’re not having their heads beaten in against the counter of the sink?

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, rubbing JJ’s back. “Stay with me, Jay. It’s okay.”

pine-storm-season asked: His name is Chase, Jameson. Do you remember more about him now?

Hmm. He glances around.

Certainly he thinks this room is familiar, now that he sees it. He thinks the babies are Chase’s babies, but he doesn’t remember them, not even a flash of their memory. It hurts his chest. The room is messy and loud and enthusiastic in its own way. He thinks that’s things that Chase used to be. But Trickshot - though he’s happier these days than he has been in some time - is often quiet and nervous and bitter, keeping everything arranged in his nests, close at hand, protected. He doesn’t have the wildness he used to have. Dapper stares down at the ground, curling his fingers through Chase’s hair, wishing he could hold on to the memory of him forever.

cest-mellow asked: is anyone else in this place with you? are you in a house?

“Are the others here?” asks Dapper.

He squints his eyes up apologetically, tilting his head as he tries to think. “Ah, sorry, man, you know I’m still so slow with sign.”

Dapper doesn’t mind. He’s here and he’s learning, so that’s all that matters. He takes his hand and tugs him towards the door.

In this hallway, there are two more doors, a closed one across from Chase’s room and a bathroom at the end of the hall. On the other side, stairs. Dapper lets his feet rub against the soft carpet, pleased to see that his past self has picked out a white t-shirt and a pair of blue shorts with flamingos patterned all over them instead of something formal and uncomfortable. Fun but not too childish. Comfortable but not humiliating. It’s nice.

He moves down the stairs with an optimistic timidity, peeking his head out before he lets his body appear. His brother follows patiently behind him, letting him go at his own pace.

He can hear, in the kitchen, a pair of his siblings arguing cheerfully, teasing each other and clanking dishes as they wash them in the sink. The dining room smells of curry powder and the living room is coated in the gold light of the setting sun. A fluffy white cat is kneading her claws into a grey one. She meows when she sees them, leaping off the couch to come and wrap herself around them, purring at their legs.

Now there’s no doubt that the person next to him is not Anti. Dapper lets out a low sigh, feeling warm and content, and closes his eyes.

Anonymous asked: Can you ask to see the others JJ? Would that follow the timeline properly?

Yes, he wants to see the others. He moves into the kitchen, finding two siblings standing together at the sink, washing and drying together.

“Hellooo,” calls Blue. “Everybody feeling okay?”

Not Blue. Marvin. Dapper feels his face light up in a smile.

He looks so happy.

His hair is long and clean and lovely, tied up neatly on the back of his head, and his face is full of health and self-satisfaction. He hands the last pan to his brother and steps towards them, smiling, a cover-up with elephants printed on the thin fabric flickering in the wind from the open back door. Outside, Jameson sees a forest - but this one is not like the one he came from. Instead of pines, deciduous oak and willow and birch. JJ feels the wind in his hair.

“I think we’re doing okay.” Jameson feels him squeeze his hand. “Right, JJ?”

JJ nods, letting Marvin come closer, smiling at him.

“Good!” Marvin chirps. “But you have something behind your ear.”

He reaches beside Jameson’s hand. When he pulls away again, he is holding a big yellow rose. JJ grins shyly and takes it from him, and Marvin, his eyes glowing blue, presses a kiss into his cheek.

“Love you, James.”

“Love you,” he answers gently, patting Marvin’s hand.

“Chase, your room’s a fucking mess, by the way,” says the person holding his other hand.

JJ stops short, alarmed, turning to him.

“It’s organized chaos!” protests the person at the sink, turning to him. He has short hair too, but he wears a backwards hat and his wrists are covered in bracelets, gauges pinned into his ears. “I know where everything in there is, it’s just… everywhere.”

The person at his side laughs. Dapper supposes it must be Jackie. He relaxes again, drifting against his side, enjoying the sound of his laughter. It’s good to see Red and Trick get along. Usually, in his experience, they are enemies.

Anonymous asked: Oh thank god my hunch was wrong, that's a relief. Anyway, whatcha gonna do now Dap? Stay with Chase for some more time?

“I want to see H-healing,” says JJ, looking around at his siblings.

“He’s okay, buddy,” promises Chase, drying off the last dish and placing it in the rack. “He just cut his finger. But I bet he wouldn’t mind a visit from you.”

“Here, I’ll take you upstairs,” promises the brother holding his hand. “And we can go check on him. He should be hanging out instead of working in his room anyway, huh?”

Yeah. Dapper nods, letting himself be lead back towards the stairs. As you go, you see a familiar hallway on the ground floor - a door with newspaper clippings and pictures and notes plastered all over it, and beyond that, the room where Red and Marvin talked. Chances are you recall the sight better than Dapper does.

Anonymous asked: Oh, they all look so happy and healthy... So this was your family? This seems like the dream life. I'm even more impassioned to help you get them back in any way we can, JJ. You all deserve health and love and light again.

“This,” he says, looking around, looking back at his family, looking at the house and the forest and the cats and the sun. He takes his hand back to speak. “This… this isn’t something that I can have again.”

He holds the rose Marvin gave him carefully, petting at the flowers for a moment before sticking it into his pocket, his face downcast.

“Even if I can get them back, we won’t be the same.”

He closes his eyes for a second, moving towards Henrik’s room.

“Max thought I was hopeless,” he says. “But these days, I can’t tell the difference between that and realism. The truth is, this isn’t my family anymore. Most of us aren’t family at all. The twins love each other. That’s what remains of us. The love between them and, every now and then, in small ways, the recollections between the rest of us - the ghosts of what it was to love each other for who we were at this moment in time, and the disappointment that follows when we realize we are no longer the people that we once were, and that that love did not survive the change.

“But for this moment… for this moment, I can have it again. It’s alive inside of me. For a moment. For a moment. It’s alive.”

darkiplurrr asked: *hugs Dapper* You’re doing great and we’re proud of you!

“Thank you,” he chuckles, smiling. “That’s very nice whether or not it’s true. Thank you.”

Anonymous asked: Where are you taking us JJ? A memory? And... do you think Henrik will be okay?

“I… don’t know that H-healing will be okay in the future. I don’t know. I think, perhaps, he will not be. But for now…”

“Here, bud,” says his friend, following him up the stairs to knock on Henrik’s door.

“Come in,” answers a voice, unpained and unafraid, calm and safe.

For now he can be okay.

Dapper pushes open the door and Henrik smiles back at him from the bed, putting aside his laptop to see him. “Hey, Jamie. Is everything - ”

JJ leaps into his arms and tackles him back onto the bed, wrapping his arms around him. Henrik yelps and then laughs, hugging him with one arm and pinching him in protest with the other.

“Little terror!” he snipes, digging his fingers into his side, and Dapper squirms from being tickled. “I am under attack.”

“Yes, you are stuck,” Dapper pauses to sign before wrapping his arms around his neck again.

“I’m okay,” murmurs Henrik after a moment, rubbing gently at his back. “You know that, right? We’re safe here. You and me are safe.”

JJ feels tears welling in his eyes. To think that they all used to feel safe.

“It’s not fair, H,” he says, pulling back. “I just want to keep all of you safe. But I don’t know if you even know that. And the truth is I still love him too no matter what he does to me. I don’t know why. I’m a coward.”

“What are you talking about? You’re going too fast for me. James?”

He sighs and buries himself in Henrik’s shirt. He just wants to stay here.

“I’m sorry, H.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, my heart.”

“I’m sorry.”

Anonymous asked: Sorry, but you're wrong Dap. Love did survive it. You saw how hard Henrik fought for Blue not to be possessed. You saw Red care for you, fight for you, be happy and loved as himself for those days with Max. We saw the love still alive between Trick and Blue while you all were separated, even though they're not "twins". It's still there, in familiar and different ways. It's still inside all of you.

Dapper sighs, stroking his fingers through Henrik’s beard. His brother stares back at him, worried. It isn’t so different from sitting on the bed with Blue while Dok paces, trying to find ways to protect him.

Maybe pieces. Maybe pieces are still there.

Anonymous asked: Time changes people. Trauma changes people. It can't be easily reversed if it can be reversed at all. But time can heal, even if it's only a little. The family around you now is just a memory but recovering just a fraction of who they were will be worth it. It's hard to move forward when you don't know if things will be okay but you'll accomplish a lot more moving forward than going back. Even if things are never returned to normal, it's still worth more than what Anti has tried to reduce you to

Henrik’s bed is warm and comfortable. Henrik’s body is steady beside him, his hands gentle on his own body. And he feels safe and well and alright, and Henrik is here, and Henrik is okay, and Henrik loves him.

Things have changed, yes. But maybe… maybe with the bits and pieces that remained, the bits and pieces that have been strong enough to survive torture and amnesia and separation, the bits and pieces that have been stronger even than Anti and his hatred - maybe they can be the foundation to rebuild.

JJ stares at Henrik. Dapper stares at Henrik. The longing in his chest has not gone quiet - the longing not for death, as he thought it was, but for happier times to come. The longing that he mistook for suicidality. He never wanted to die. He just wanted to hope again. Just a little. Just enough.

For a moment, that longing is content.

Anonymous asked: You're right, Jay, you all can't go back to this. But you are where you are now, loved and with family, and you can enjoy that. And given time, with the brothers of your own time and all the friends you still have, you'll be able to move forward. But for now, you're here, and you can focus on that. Here you are. :)

“Want to just lie with me a while?” asks Henrik.

He can just be here. He can just be here for a moment.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay,” murmurs Henrik, stroking his hand across his hair once before turning back to the door, smiling at the figure still standing there. “You heading out soon?”

“If you’ve got everything covered,” he answers warmly, smiling at the both of them.

“You look tired.”

“Mh, a little. I’m okay.” He shrugs and stretches out his arms, digging his knuckles slightly into his eyes.

Dapper jolts, sitting up straight.

The man stares back at him, frowning.

“You okay, Jameson?”

On his left arm, a neat, symmetrical map of a tattoo JJ does not remember.

A neat, symmetrical map of a tattoo Jackie does not have.

This isn’t his brother.

Anonymous asked: Jamie, we think that might be Jack, the creator. But don't panic, it's okay. He's nice right now.

What does he say to him?

What does he do?

He remembers -

He remembers -

Anti moving towards him.

“Leave them the fuck alone! You give them back to me now or I’m going to make you regret I ever fucking created you!”

He remembers -

Blood on his face and a fierce scream of rage, his right eye neon green, the iris glowing like Marvin’s used to, the left iris silver and ringed in pure black. Brown eyes, blue eyes, green, mismatched, unnatural, supernatural, changing, constantly, as fast as Anti’s can.

“You can’t kill me, Anti, not in any way that means anything.”

He remembers -

Shaking in the corner, that fucking rope around his throat, his hands bound, his mind storming and his brain unmedicated, hallucinating and delusional and so confused and afraid he thought it might kill him. He knew it would kill him if he didn’t act.

But Anti told him no!

He remembers something breaking inside of him.

He remember the snap.

And then -

Blankness in his eyes, just for a moment.

Horror in his eyes.

“Jamie, what did you do?”

Jameson is tearing himself off of Henrik’s bed almost without realizing it, his breaths panting from his mouth, his heart racing in his chest.

“I didn’t mean to!” scream his hands. “I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to make you forget!”

“JJ! Stop! Calm down, man, calm down. It’s okay!”

“I was scared that he would hurt you! That was all! That was all!”

He catches Jameson’s hands and pulls them to his chest. They are left staring at each other, twin confusion in their eyes, twin distress.

“Jack.” He pulls against his grip to sign it. “Jack.”

“Jamie.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Jamie, I’m here.”

Jack holds his head between his hands and draws him close, and their foreheads fall together, and Jameson is known in the gaze of the man who created him.

cest-mellow asked: how much time do you have left here, jameson?

He grips his clock in a shaking hand, blinking his eyes rapidly.

The countdown is continuing. He has twenty, maybe fifteen minutes left.

But he can’t use them. This was a mistake.

“I’m sorry,” he cries. “You don’t know how much. I broke everything and now you’re not here to help my brothers get free.”

“Tell me what’s wrong,” says Jack, and if Jameson didn’t know better, he would think for a second that his friend’s eyes were silver instead of blue. “And I will make it better.”

“I have to go.”

“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. I will fix it for you. I am always going to be there to fix it if you need me.”

“That’s not true! It’s not your fault but that’s not true. It’s my fault.”

Anonymous asked: It's okay, Jameson. You're safe. I don't know what you're remembering, but you're safe.

“No one’s here but you and me,” says Jack. “You and me and the others. You’re okay and I will keep it that way.”

Jameson huffs out a breath, closing his eyes.

“I would tell you not to blame yourself,” he says. “But the truth is, you won’t even remember who I am to feel guilt for me.”

He stops the time on his stopwatch and lets the silver river devour him whole again, whisking him back to the present. And that - that’s the end of it. He’s gone. That’s it.

Or it should be.

But in the river beside him, in the crashing waves of his power, in the screaming of the storm, there is still someone beside him, his eyes glowing twin silver.

“Listen to me!” Jack shouts, standing steadier even than Jameson in the belly of the storm, the wind whipping his hair. “Listen! You are exactly what I created you to be! Do you understand?”

Jameson crashes to the ground, stunned, gritting his eyes against his own power.

“You are all what I created you to be! Don’t let anyone try to take that from you because it will always, always, always be true, Jameson!”

“It’s not enough!” Jameson signs back desperately, not even sure if he can see, not even sure if he can understand, not even sure if he’s here at all. It’s impossible, isn’t it? Impossible that he can see him through time, impossible that someone else can move through this place the way he can. Impossible that someone else understands what is to hold power like this. “It’s not enough to be what you made me to be! I’m not enough!”

“You are worthwhile all on your own,” answers Jack, fierce as the sky around them. “But if you are in trouble and I am not there, I didn’t make any of you to fight alone. Be enough together. I’m not perfect, Jay, but I promise you - I did everything I could to make the five of you into enough to be safe from him. To give you the weapons and the story to be safe from him, even if it gets derailed sometimes. I meant you all for happy endings, JJ. Trust your brothers. Trust yourself. You are exactly what I created you to be! And you are always, always, always my - ”

Jameson sits up straight in the rose-scented bathwater, gasping for air.

Jack is gone.

The bathroom is silent.

He sits up straight in the bath, staring at the wall, his mouth open in shock. The last ray of sunset turns one eye clear and gold and endless. As though he can see another world in front of him.

I meant you all for happy endings, JJ.

He puts a hand over his heart. He can feel it beating fast. He can feel himself alive.

cest-mellow asked: are you okay james? what are you gonna do now?

“I… I…”

The bathroom door slams open.

Anti stands there staring at him.

Eyes huge. Chest heaving.

When he speaks, his voice is a shattered whisper.

“I heard someone,” he says. “I heard someone talking.”

JJ stares at him, panting. He shakes his head slowly.

“I heard someone!” repeats Anti, a little louder. His hand rises, falters, rests over Blue’s heart. “I heard… I heard…”

The water laps softly at JJ’s body, gone lukewarm. The lights buzz quietly and the crickets sing. The dark shape of a bird flickers past the window and Anti shudders, backing away, shaking his head.

“I thought I heard…”

“It’s just me, Anti,” says Dapper. “It’s just me in the bath.”

Anti closes his eyes, shaking his head. He puts a hand over his eyes for a moment and lets out a long, trembling breath.

“Come to bed,” he says. “Five minutes. I need to lie down. Blue’s mind plays tricks on me and I’m tired.”

“Okay, Anti. I’m coming.”

“Good,” says Anti, glancing at him as he turns to leave. “Yes, good, just… come quickly.”

“Okay.”

He leaves him alone with you. There is water lapping, and crickets singing, and the flicker of a bird.

JJ turns you away and climbs out of the bathtub.

Anonymous asked: What did you hear Anti?

“Nothing,” he spits at you, whirling on you with bright blue eyes. “Nothing, just… it was nothing.”

The door to the bathroom pushes open and Dapper steps out, looking small and sweet in his big dinosaur hoodie. Anti relaxes a little, sitting on the bed and waiting for him. “Come here,” he beckons, snapping his fingers at him. “Come on, bedtime. Geez, you smell like shampoo. Don’t use so much of those scented things next time.”

“Can’t help it, Anti. That whole bathroom smells like nice stuff.”

“Just lie down,” says Anti, tugging him towards him.

Anti finds a comfortable position and lets out a long sigh, wrapped around his little brother’s body.

“Your heart’s beating fast,” he mumbles.

Dapper doesn’t answer. They fall back to silence.

It’s dark by the time Anti speaks again.

“Do you ever think this isn’t what we were meant to be doing?”

Dapper stares at the ceiling, not sure what to say.

“Maybe I was supposed to die that night Marvin and Jackie beat me down to a wisp of a spirit and took you from me. Maybe that was supposed to be it.”

Dapper doesn’t know. Dapper doesn’t remember.

“Do you remember when it was just the two of us?” whispers Anti, lying close to him on the pillows. His hands are around his waist. “Do you ever think about it?”

Dapper looks over at him.

“Sometimes,” he signs meekly.

“Hm.” Anti rubs at his sides mindlessly, his eyes distant. “It was a different time.”

“It was a different story.”

“Yes,” says Anti. “I guess it was. This is a better one, isn’t it, my brother? All six of us together?”

Dapper doesn’t know what to say.

Anti does not seem to expect an answer.

“But sometimes I think about when it was just the two of us,” murmurs Anti. “Sometimes I think about that.”

Dapper feels something in the pocket of his hoodie. He blinks and reaches down for it, trying not to disturb his brother, and pulls it out. In his hands, a single yellow rose.

Dapper looks over at Anti. Anti is asleep.

[theclumsyxeno]

Cossacks and Mavericks: Lost and Found

-Recap: After a mysterious series of events, Elizabelle has gone missing, with a dark hint as to why.-

Sunset Shimmer gulped harshly and turned to Fluttershy, who turned to Sunset Shimmer and nodded. She turned to the Cossacks and Mavericks, and relayed the information.

...

[ “Haunted” Starts playing] Macy-Mae nervously approached Elizabelle, who was in a fetal position, with her eyes closed, and murmuring to herself. Half of her silver hair was White, The Weiner dog approached, and nuzzled her owner. Leading to Elizabelle opening her eyes, her pupils’ large red slits, and her sclera black. Macy-Mae whimpered as she nuzzled Elizabelle. Elizabelle soon freed her arms from her knees and sat up, she scooped up Macy-Mae and carried her to her bedroom, and set her on the bed. Once she let go of Macy-Mae, Elizabelle hunched over in pain, worrying Macy-Mae. Before Macy-Mae could follow the anthro fox, Elizabelle closed the door. Causing Macy-Mae to whine and scratch the door.

Soon Elizabelle screamed, “No! Stop!!” Soon a growl followed, with sounds of furniture toppling, and glass shattering. Elizabelle quickly cried, “Please, please not now, please don’t!!” Soon a roar came out, along with thumping. The sound of the front door opening surprised Macy-Mae. Not long later, the thumping grew quieter, and quieter, until silence. With Macy-Mae crying and scratching once more... [“Haunted” stops playing, replaced with Sad instrumental]

Bright Man felt lightheaded and nearly fainted, only to be caught by Wire Sponge.

Magma Dragoon felt anger rise in him, he quickly stood up, grabbing everyone’s attention.

The dragon maverick soon declared, “We’ll go after whoever harmed Elizabelle and make them suffer!” [Sad Instrumental fades, and is replaced by hopeful instrumental] Pharaoh Man stood up as well.

He soon stated, “We will save Elizabelle from whatever is hurting her, there is little doubt in my mind that Hollow Heart is responsible.” Crescent Grizzly shook his head as he crossed his arms.

He chimed in, “Going after a defenseless young girl, that’s low.”

Drill Man spoke up, “Well, Hollow Heart’s a soulless bitch.” The other Mavericks and Cossacks stood in agreement, with Wire Sponge helping Bright Man back to his feet. Yammark and Spiral Pegasus helped Spike Rosered back to his feet as well. Soon Pharaoh Man turned to Sunset Shimmer and Fluttershy.

He asked, “Now, where do we begin to find this kidnapping beast?”

Fluttershy soon gasped and stated, “How about we give Macy-Mae something of Belle’s to smell? She might be able to find her!”

…

In the Forest, The Cossacks, Mavericks, The EQG Mane seven, and Macy-Mae journeyed. An uneasy feeling hung heavy in the air, as Macy-Mae followed Elizabelle’s scent. Yammark clung to Spike Rosered, with the Rose Maverick comforting his lover. Boomer Kuwanger sighed heavily as they went; grabbing Sting Chameleon’s attention.

The chameleon Maverick soon asked, “Something wrong Kuwanger?” Boomer Kuwanger turned to Sting Chameleon, his key beginning to glow.

He replied, “ I don’t know why, but I feel something isn’t… Right.” His words grabbed Snipe Anteator, who turned to Stag Beetle Maverick.

Snipe Anteator chimed in, “How so?” Boomer Kuwanger sighed once more. Before he could respond, Macy-Mae began to bark, grabbing everyone’s attention.

Fluttershy cried, “Macy-Mae found something!” Soon Macy-Mae ran, with the group trailing the small dog.

…

[“Ashes” Begins playing] The young grimm girl looked down, with black tears rolling down her little cheeks.

She whimpered, “I’m sorry miss Zera…” The Huntress, Zera, scowled at the child.

She stated coldly, “Lisanna, do you know, how much your grimm form disgusts me?” Lisanna winced at Zera’s harsh and cold words.

Lisanna asked, “Why am I bad?” Zera made an inquisitive face, after a moment, her scowl returned.

Zera replied, “Because Grimm are monsters that cannot be loved, no matter their form. Not even the children deserve an ounce of love. But, there is a way to earn my love…” Lisanna looked up quickly, her black and red innocent eyes widening.

She quickly wondered, “How? I want to be loved!” Zera smirked, her brows furrowing with ill intent…. [“Ashes” abruptly ends, replaced by instrumental]

…

Soon, Macy-Mae stopped and came upon a torn-up part of the forest, Fluttershy grew fearful upon seeing the destruction that laid before her and the group. Bright man grew horrified.

He spoke up, “W-we ha-have t-to go in there?!” He shakily pointed at the wrecked area. Split Mushroom and Vanishing Gungaroo hid behind Shield Sheldon, and trembled. Burn Rooster mustered up some courage, and came in front of everyone, his key glowing.

He declared, “We can’t just sit here and quake in our boots! Belle needs us!” Pharaoh Man soon stood next to the Rooster Maverick.

He added,” Burn Rooster is right, We cannot abandon a friend in their time of need!” [Instramental fades, with “Evidence” taking its place] Soon the other Maverick leaders nodded in agreement, and with morale boosted once more, the group soon entered the torn up forest, and headed on their way. A distance away from the group was Lunar Crescent. She quivered slightly, and clenched her hand, and held it upon her chest.

She whispered, “I just hope the magic of friendship is enough….”

...

[“Evidence” fades as new instrumental takes over] As the group went deeper, the destruction began less and less, in fact, they were nearing a clearing.

Yammark grew surprised, “It doesn’t seem natural for there to be a random clearing here, The canopy order doesn’t match up.” Vanishing Gungaroo grew confused and scrunched his face in confusion.

He stated, “The Canopy order? Huh?” Soldier Stonekong facepalmed with a deep, heavy, sigh. With Splash Warfly Snickering, only for Wind Crowrang to smack the back of his head with a head shake. Before any further arguments, a rustling occurred, causing all the Cossacks and Mavericks to bring out their weapons and magic. Only for a small rabbit to hop out, causing everyone to grimace in embarrassment. However, Macy-Mae began to bark again. Grabbing the group’s attention.

Dark Mantis turned to Fluttershy and asked, “Did she find her?” Fluttershy nodded as Macy-Mae trotted happily through the bushes. Soon the group followed, however, they grew shocked by what they found.

To be continued...

@nitathebearybrawler