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tortilla-of-courage · 3 years

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Describing it as being like home is actually pretty accurate yeah.

And YES! I am totally willing to talk about my modern AU.

I've been calling it the Adoption AU because Time ends up adopting all of the boys. It mostly started as, I saw an edit for a tweet someone did with Wars and Wild that involved Taco Bell (cannot remember the blog or post for the life of me though), and so I wrote a thing about Warriors sneaking out of his university dorm to pick up Wild, who snuck out the window despite his broken arm, and then got extorted by Legend in exchange for silence at 3am.

This was followed by a fic where Groose decided spray painting a public building was a good idea and got himself and Sky arrested, set earlier in the timeline.

So then I made a timeline. Twilight is Time and Malon's biological son, and he found Wild on the side of the road one day (Wild's backstory involves a bad car wreck and an underground hospital, but no conspiracy bullshit. Yet). Wild has no memory, so they keep him. Wild brings home Legend, who was told his uncle died at school before a holiday. They then also keep Legend. Malon finds Four in her barn one morning for complicated reasons, and they keep him too. Twilight finds Warriors, who is in his class, hiding in an alley one day after he ran away from an abusive home and brings him home too. SS Impa (who I've nicknamed Shield because there are enough prominent Impas here that they should get nicknames too) is a social worker who's trying to find Sky a home and has run out of options, and turns to Time, who has a record of successfully housing 'unhousable' youths, and asks if he can take one more. He can. Wild finds Hyrule and brings him home because 'Rule needs a shower even more than Wild does. Hyrule stays. Wind's grandma ends up with Wind and his sister but can't financially take care of both and so Wind ends up with the boys and everyone is +1 Grandma.

Twilight has a fic detailing how he knows Midna and Dusk and I ended up shooting him (oops) but at least their social project gets handed in on time.

Then I started hashing out Time's backstory and suddenly this AU had plot. And organized crime. And a conspiracy. And secret societies.

The summarized version is that the gems from OoT are like, Idk what they do yet. Haven't gotten to a point where I need to figure that out yet. But they are Important and have to be carefully guarded. The Great Deku Tree (just called Deku because he's not a tree here) was Time's foster father before Ganondorf killed him. Also, Ganondorf is Deku's half brother. Because. However Time 'stole' the Emerald and he and Navi ran until OoT Impa (Sage) and Lullaby found them. So Time got adopted into Lullaby's family. Ruto inherited the Sapphire from her mother who also died from mysterious circumstances, and Darunia has the Ruby. Lullaby got the Ocarina from her late paternal grandmother.

Then Ganon finds them and tries to steal the Emerald from Time, so Lullaby goes looking for help and thus finds the sages. Saria is an anonymous hacker who uses the screen name 'Kokiri'. Time reveals he didn't steal the Emerald, he was Deku's heir, and then Navi goes missing. Time is home worried enough that he's physically sick, and Ganon decides to try and attack the home. Only Lullaby's family is Olde Money, and they live in a big, old manor, so Lullaby as Sheik decides to play 'Home Alone' with the secret passages in the walls and they piss off Ganon because when did that brat get a sheikah bodyguard??? Sage and Rottla (Lullaby's mother, who is fully sheikah as well) rush home from a thing and Kokiri is running a play by play watching the security cameras.

I pull in my headcanon that Time was killed in the Downfall Timeline by getting impaled on Ganon's tusk and Ganondorf stabs him with the tusk of a mounted boar head and then Sheik shows up to protect his brother, and then Mama gets home and is not happy to find this man in her home attacking her kids. Time is fine, but Navi stays missing. (She's alive tho.)

Also, Time's foster dad was the last leader of a secret society known as The Order of The Lost Woods, and Time learns this upon meeting Tatl, who gets him sucked into another event that would probably make a good action movie. I have thought too much about the Order and it's hierarchy, but what's important here is that Time ends up with a standing job offer and Tatl and he remain friends and we find out how I fit FD into this AU. It's not pretty. This is where Time loses his eye too.

The AoC came out and I added that Link in as Wild's twin brother and he shows up during the main plot.

Which starts with Twi getting kidnapped. (I'm not really meaner to him than the others, I swear, he's just the most logical choice to be Time's heir. Which he is. He doesn't know this though.)

So he's kidnapped by Ganondorf, who broke out of jail, Zant, who shot Twi in highschool, and Ghirahim, who has some history with Sky I haven't fleshed out yet and a very public rivalry with Warriors over twitter. About six weeks later Sage finds him in an abandoned warehouse (because of course) with a shackle on his left arm and a lot of new injuries. He ends up fine, but he tells Time later in the hospital what happened and he's both message and messenger and Time is this close to just committing murder. Tatl talks him down.

Somewhere here is the half finished fic where I introduce AoC Link as Luke/Knight, and this is as far as I've plotted thus far.

Other tidbits: Wild and Lullaby/Sheik are both genderfluid, Lullaby/Sheik married Ruto, Wild has a very popular YouTube channel, Twi does drag racing sometimes, Sky has a pet bird, Four has DID to explain how the Colours are here too, and Wolfie exists in the form of a random wolf-dog Wild found and brought home that Legend somehow convinced half the family was Twilight. Also, Warriors has somehow befriended an entire sorority and he doesn't know how this happened.

This... got long. As you can see I have a lot of thoughts about the Adoption AU. It's gotten a bit away from me, I'll admit. This went from 'Wild does stunts on his motorbike and keeps breaking bones but somehow not the bike' to 'Twilight got kidnapped and Time is the target of a mafia that Ganon runs and also maybe killed a man once' and I don't know how that happened. Also, this is the condensed version of the summary. My actual summary/outline is much, much longer than this. So if there's any detail you want more on, feel free to say so and I'll happily go into more detail (there are so many things I didn't even mention....)

And yes, Robbie having a bong is very important to my best friend, for some reason. He has one in a modern AU and he probably invented one in canon. I happen to agree that this makes sense for his character, if anyone would invent a bong in LoZ it's Robbie (this is such an anticlimactic end to this ask after the stuff about the modern AU...)

Also, sorry for the long ass ask. I genuinely don't know how to condense the Adoption Au down any further. There's a lot of important plot beats to cover, and I still skipped things.

-Attllhak

oh my GOD???? if you ever write and post this somewhere id love to read it, the level of "crazy" conspiracy/action movie elements implemented sound sosososo cool, from Ganondorf being Deku's half brother to trying to "send a message" via Twi and- just- all of this is SO good.i sat here and reread this ask like 3 times as if that would magically spawn more info about it ahaha

there's so much to unpack here but it's honestly so worth it i love every single detail!!! i can imagine the actual outline being way longer, nad honestly that just makes me the more excited/curious about all that might be missing from this ask - i cant believe it started with Wild and Wars going to Taco Bell of all things

also i can totally see Robbie making a bong, no matter the setting or AU. fits him a lot I'd say

and dont worry about long asks!! i adore opening up my askbox to see one ask take over the entire thing, it makes me really happy aha

#attllhak #im once again rendered speechless (in a good way) by your creative mind attllhak #tortilla asks #long post #linked universe #ask to tag #injury mention

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lysershine · 3 years

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@willwoodimagines lore timeline (what is my life)

So firstly, a fuckin massive thank you to @hotsinglelemonsinyourarea because I cannot do this shit alone and he’s helped me compile all of their old posts because I, apparently, underestimated how long they’ve been doing this. So from this point forward, I’m assuming nothing is a joke. Here we go!!

I am so sorry. Let’s do this.

So earliest posts that are likely lore come from around April the 9th. This post is a conversation seemingly between Three and One where Two is gone on a road trip, -- although it might not Actually Be A Road Trip, -- and then One tells everyone to stop acting like Two is dead, because he’s not. Which, fair enough, although later in the conversation, Two replies and seems to invent that he’s at the beach, probably to calm down the people speculating about his whereabouts. I am Anything But Calm.

There’s also this post, presumably from One or Three but it’s hard to tell cuz Three didn’t start signing posts until much later and they type pretty similarly, where they tell us we should be grateful for them feeding us and keeping us warm, and it’s tagged with ‘#I wish I was warm.’

So here’s where stuff gets very interesting! Backstory, people! In this post, we start to see some pieces put together. The imagine reads:

IMAGINE: Will Wood invites you into his home for an exclusive performance of I/Me/Myself. You are so excited! But then, he asks you to come down into his wine cellar, explaining that his keyboard is down there. You go down there hesitantly. You don’t realize for several minutes that he did not follow you down here. The only things here are a laptop and a sticky note with the words “POST IMAGINES” written in sharpie. You are so afraid and attempt to leave the way you came in but the door is gone. You are trapped. It is so cold and you just want to see your family again.

So that’s horrifying!! But it gives us insight into how the mods were probably captured and why they’re running this blog. It’s a great blog. 10/10, doesn’t make me solve codes. Oh wait.

After that post, -- which I am assuming comes from Three, -- we’re treated to a bunch of morse code that the wonderful Nigel was kind enough to translate for me:

They then added in a reblog, “It seems I have made a typo! I meant mod 1 won’t let me speak, I am mod 3.” So, it seems like One is trying to quiet any cries for help.

This is shortly thereafter followed by this post from the 11th, and to quote directly, it says:

IMAGINE: Inside of the cellar basemeant, there is a suit. It is tempting but Weill said you are not allowed to touch. YOu know you want to. Touch it. he is guarding it. he is hiding something. follow for more will woof imagines.

So that’s riddled with typos, and if you stick them all together you just get eeOf so I’m gonna assume that all this means is that this post is courtesy of Two. There’s also a skeleton circled so maybe Will has previous victims or something? Who knows.

On the 12th, we have a couple posts, one about being in Will’s basement and watching him cosplay the onceler, another about Will being vaguely inhuman. Don’t know how important that is but I’m gonna make note of it anyway, because Will being inhuman especially might make sense for some stuff.

The next seemingly important post is this one:

So this one is probably about Two, my evidence being this post and the fact that, following this, Two gets significantly worse at spelling and more confused about what’s going on with their captivity. My best guess is that Two gets in trouble either for the lack of imagines OR they did touch the suit from that earlier imagine and now they know something that they shouldn’t. Either way, Will takes him away and brainwashes??? Lobotomizes??? Bite of ‘87s???? Idk???? I’m gonna go with lobotomy, it seems the most accurate to Two’s behavior from here on out, I really have no idea but he comes back Very Different. And in the tags it says ‘Laplace’s Angel 2:14!’ and the line at that time is “Somebody, help me!” so you know, pretty straightforward cry for help.

Though it makes me think that in the cellar, they are probably limited to interaction with only things directly connected to Will Wood, which is why “as a treat” they watch the documentary and they communicate with his music like this. They’re not allowed any media other than his.

Anyway, here’s an important note: From this point forward, Two is an unreliable narrator. Everything he says from here on out should be taken with a pillar of salt. (H.A.L.T., it’s not my fault!)

So with that in mind, the next post of importance is this one, a conversation that goes Three, One, and then Two. Two says Will let them watch the documentary as a treat, One tells them to stop making it seem like Will is holding them captive, and Three just says “movee :-)”. Which, fair enough.

The next posts that are worth noting are this one, where Three simply says “mental anguish” and One shuts them down saying that no one on the blog is experiencing that, and threatens them in the tags, and then this one where someone is being silenced.

There’s this post, which in the website version of their blog links to itself, I don’t know how or why or if that matters but if someone figures something out with that, please let me know. There’s also this imagine, which is about bodyswapping with Will -- storywise, I don’t think this is something that really happens, -- but it’s tagged with ‘#I miss my family.’ So that’s Not Good.

There’s some posts in between solidifying that despite this wackiness, the mods are indeed still friends. And then we go straight back into absolute horror with this post:

And so evidently they are Less Than Okay and probably being held captive by Will Wood. It’s immediately followed by this morse code, presumably from Three because he seems to use morse where One uses binary, and when deciphered, it reads: “I am blinking. Hear my cry.” Three’s post is then followed by One trying to shush them once more, saying:

“[W]e at Willwoodimagines would like to apologize for last night. We might have, perhaps, made it seem as if we are being held in a wine cellar against our Will (Wood), and that some of us have been down here for six years, and that we may miss our families, but I, Mod 1, would like to remind you that we are fine and need no help! Cheers!:) #We are NOT blinking. At all. #Not at all. No blinking from us! Blinking? Aha! Not at all.”

So what can be gathered from this is that they’re absolutely being held in Will Wood’s wine cellar, and some of them have been there for six years, and they miss their families, are NOT fine, definitely need help, and are CERTAINLY blinking. Also the random bolded letters spell “help” again.

Then there’s this post, which Nigel translated for me (ty man ily):

We also have this crudely-drawn map from Two, but it doesn’t seem to be related to anything. Anyway, the address is totally garbled, yep, but nonetheless if you put it into Google you get the address for a relatively poorly-rated landfill in New Jersey:

So clearly someone picked up on that, because then we have an ask from an anon who wants to know what the recycling situation is where they are being held. One seems very confused by this question, and Two pipes in saying that have a trashcan. Their confusion would make me assume this is the wrong address, but I don’t actually have to assume, because One(?) confirms it later with this post containing binary that can be translated to read:

“oh god the address was wrong i don't know where we fucking are help“

So you know, concerning! This is immediately followed by another ask, this one in binary. The conversation goes:

“Are you good?” “Absolutely not”

Which kinda speaks for itself. There’s also a quiz they made and I took it to see if there was any lore and uh apparently I’m most like One, so that’s poggers, I think? Idk there wasn’t any lore though. There is this post where Three says that Two’s favorite song isn’t a Will Wood song, and One threatens to knock them the fuck out, and I’m adding this as a point to my theory that they’re unallowed to consume media unrelated to WW. They make up though, so it’s fine.

It gets more quiet and more confusing for a while, Three saying “wake up” and this post being tagged with ‘#I’m cold and I am afraid.’ Two leaves again, Three goes quiet cuz they’re having a rough time, Two hates being smol-bean-ified and is behind held below One and Three, who seem to be in the same room? They’re also all starving, and Three could be an arsonist if you let them out.

Blah blah, they called me out and I cried about it, and NOW we’ve reached the 100-follower-special. Thank fuck.

Three posts this, it leads to binary, and that binary says:

“Listen carefully. The video that Will (Wood) be posted is extremely important. Do not skip it.“

This is immediately followed by this video of Two sprinting through the woods, presumably to freedom, if you read the tags. Three follows that with another post, saying “It has begun.” One shuts them down again in this post, but it links to binary that says:

“hello? can you read this? mod 2 is free! and hopefully will be coming back for us both. you all did absolutely nothing to help so i'm not thanking you for this. however i am thanking you for following us all! you've given us moral support thank you, mod 1“

As I’ve said earlier, I’m fairly certain that their captor is Will and he has access to this tumblr, which is why One especially is trying to be quiet about this. Like in this post where they apologize for the insanity on the blog, which links to binary, and it reads:

“we’re not in ddlc. i am not monika. listen to me closely. mod 3 and i are still stuck here. we have been posting cries for help for weeks. go look for them! they’re like easter eggs. just for you! thank you, mod 1“

DO I LOOK LIKE I’M COLLECTING EGGS YET??? DO I??????? Anyway, I got named the official lore account so now I’m fucking trapped here, and then we get some posts about how Two has made it to a McDonald’s.

Then One posts yet another apology, with two links. Link one directs you to a groupchat between the three mods, detailing Two’s escape and everyone’s very odd adoration for fast food. But then again, Three says they’ve been eating slop for a while, so. Fair enough. To bring back my old commentary about this, though; in this conversation there seems to be a bit of confusion over who exactly put them in the cellar where they’re captured, but as we saw earlier it was indeed Will Wood himself who is keeping them prisoner. However, Two also asserts that very soon he will be able to save One and Three, apparently with the help of Will? So there are two possibilities here:

1. Two is still an unreliable narrator, so it’s a possibility that his lobotomy or whatever has ruined his ability to perceive threats and he is being tricked by Will, who is indeed their captor, and will get thrown back in the cellar with the other two.

2. Something bigger than Will is controlling the situation. It makes no sense that all three mods would remember Will putting them in the cellar if he didn’t. So someone else could be controlling Will, I don’t know. They allude to a person from the documentary and initially I assumed it was Will but I actually haven’t seen the movie (shock and horror, I know, I’m sorry), so maybe it’s someone else and that’s the piece of the puzzle I’m missing? Idk, if you’ve made it this far and you’ve seen the documentary, check the conversation and let me know.

Link two leads to binary, and when translated it becomes:

“i do think it’s less endearing and more terrifying how people on a blogging website care more about my freedom than my own friends and family did i dont need to sign this. you know who it’s from“

Which, maybe, but I love ARGs and Nigel and I are already incredibly invested so whoops. Besides, who’s gonna do it if we don’t?

Anyway!!! I sent an ask in response to some of my confusion for the groupchat, and because One said to keep sending messages. One responded, and I was redirected to even more binary because of course! This time it says:

“THANK YOU FOR ASKING MOD 2 SAID THAT HE HAS INTERACTED WITH WILL. SO I DO NOT THINK WE ARE BEING HELD BY WILL HIMSELF. I BELIEVE MOD 3 KNOWS BUT WHEN I ASKED AGAIN HE JUST TOLD ME THAT IT WAS THE GUY FROM THE MOVIE. THIS WAS NOT VERY HELPFUL THANKS MOD 1 P.S. THIS IS IN ALL CAPS BECAUSE I'M VERY EXCITED!!”

Then there were two posts in quick succession, the first one was a new puzzle type! Morse code! And grandma taught me that, so I can tell you it says:

“I think we posted an address once but it was wrong and we got caught doing it. I didn’t like that day. This entire computer has safety settings on it so I can’t just ??? (this looks like a keysmash or something to me?) stop writing. Hold on, I hear something.”

And I would’ve thrown it directly in a translator, but as One acknowledges in their next post with a link to more binary, I had to translate by hand because:

“well! you'll never guess what desktops do to morse code! we're back at binary! anyway. we did post an address but everything went wrong, i don't like thinking about that entire week, the pain was unimaginable! more importantly, though, i've asked mod 3 and he s hold on i think i hear something.“

That post was immediately reblogged with more binary that just says:

“well that’s not good”

Which is horrific!! So I sent an ask, like, ayo homie what the fuck, and I got a response! The text itself is just a dismissal that anything’s wrong, but the bolded text spells out “footsteps” so that’s terrifying! Also Two apparently slept in the McDonald’s parking lot and One slept in a sleeping bag in the cellar.

They posted that this morning when I started working on this post, -- I’ve been here for like eight hours now I think, -- and so I replied expressing my distress that they were active again and One responded with backwards text, which when read normally, says:

“Did you think we were going to sleep forever? The show must go on!”

Death undertones, I dig it.

Anyway, @hotsinglelemonsinyourarea my beloved asked why they were watching @emerald-whale, and One hit back with binary that says:

“you don't think we're watching all of you? tell the lorekeeper to write this one down. sincerely, mod 1″

Which is fucking horrifying, but no worries One, I am writing it down!! I am making a whole ass fucking timeline!! Because I am but a humbled servant that kneels to whatever story you’re trying to tell here. :) Apparently. ::) I hate it here.

Anyway, an anon sent in an ask that is one of the funniest interactions ever:

“ooohhh pizza mozarella pizza mozarella rella rella oohh“

“alright no more lore for you guys until you learn how to behave”

And then Two felt like pitching in as well:

Now keep in mind all of this was posted very fast and I was writing this post, -- still am, whoops, -- so I sent this very stressed ask telling them to SLOW DOWN THE LORE PLEASE IM FUCKING PLEADING as well as asking each mod a question, and I got shot back more binary cuz they hate me but they did answer my questions so the conversation goes:

Me: “One, are you in the same room as Three? What about Two?” One: “yes. no. i miss 2 dearly.” Me: “Two, who did you bite to get out? Two: “the ghuy from the movee !!!! i bit him and sstole hias phone!!!!!! his passw ord was "willwoodsux" :-)” Me: “Three, how long has it been since you’ve consumed any media that isn’t WW related?” Three: “It’s only been a year since I entered the cellar, so not that long ago :-) Around July you're welcome, lorekeeper sincerely, the three mods

So to clarify what and why I was asking:

1. My theory about One and Three being together while Two is separate is confirmed, yay me! Kinda trivial but I want to understand what’s going on in the cellar, so that stuff makes sense in context.

2. I haven’t seen the Will Wood movie, so this means nothing to me! Lucky for me, I have a friend, @indubitablyswag, who has seen it, so I asked them!

They have no fucking clue either!! So I will probably be renting that movie tonight, because this lore is worth money to me now, apparently, -- and I’ve been meaning to see it anyways.

3. Three made a comment about having never seen Ratatouille, which Nigel thought tied into my theory that non-WW things weren’t allowed in the cellar. I think this confirms that, but it actually doesn’t excuse Three from not knowing Ratatouille because it came out much longer than a year ago. (Unless this ARG takes place in a different year? I’ll have to ask about that.)

Then there’s another pizza mozzarella whatever ask, but it’s okay cuz Two fucking murders them.

I got my numbers screwed up and hurt One’s feelings, (IF YOU’RE READING THIS, ONE, IM SORRY, I MEANT THREE!!) something???? hurts, and I have wasted a solid nineish hours of my existence on this.

Then One gave me a whole ass heart attack by asking my favorite flavor of ice cream. (Theirs is birthday cake, apparently.)

I’m posting it before any of those fucks give me any more lore to add to this timeline because I’ve been here for like ten hours and I honestly just Can Not Keep Doing This, so I’ll be back with more theories later, -- especially after I’ve seen the movie.

In the meantime, au revoir, I’m gonna go have a stroke. I hope you guys are pleased with your lorekeeper. Cuz if you’re not then literally what has this been for? :::))

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elderbloodlore · 4 years

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Calanthe was not a racist homicidal tyrant: a useless and bitter rant of someone whose favourite character ever got mercilessly butchered.

WHY ARE YOU WRITING THIS?

Well, let me give you a little bit of a backstory. I first read the Last Wish and the Sword of Destiny in 2012, when I was 14 years old. I instantly connected with the character of Calanthe, and after her death, it took me nearly a year to be able to pick up the saga itself. Ever since, she remained my favourite fictional character ever. As a little girl in misoginistic Poland, I was so lucky to have her as a role model. Because she fought for herself, she took no shit from anybody, she had love and respect of the people around her, and yet she had such tenderness and kindness about her that many strong woman-trope characters are missing these days, and that is exactly what happened to Calanthe when she was being translated to the screen. In 2015 The Wild Hunt was coming out and there were rumours of Ciri being included, so you can imagine my absolute glee and the hope I was filled with to have some more content with that one woman that meant so much to me growing up. And you can imagine my disappointment when all we got about her were a couple tiny mentions, even though the events of the Wild Hunt happen not even a decade after her death. Then the show by Netflix was announced and, once again, I had super high expectations. I wanted to see the wise, kind, beautiful Queen brought alive. December 2019 rolls in, and my hopes are being steamrolled. So here I am, 22 years old and crying over a fictional character, because one of the best written female characters ever (in my opinion) entered mainstream as a bullish, racist, homicidal tyrant. So let me address the biggest changes the show made to my beloved Calanthe Fiona Riannon, the Lioness of Cintra.

THE LOOKS

That was obviously the first thing that threw me off. I was quite enthusiastic when the cast was announced, but then as the first promo pictures were released, my enthusiasm was slowly dying down. In the books, Calanthe’s looks are adressed very often:

“As before, the queen wore emeralds matching the green of her dress and her eyes. As before, a thin gold crown encircled her ash-gray hair.” Sword of Destiny.

I tried to convince myself that Jodhi May won’t be a bad Calanthe so hard that I actually made this poor ass EDIT to feed my delusions and cheer myself up. In comparison, HERE is my personal favourite art of Calanthe that I find is the most accurate to the book portrayal.

Even when the first trailer dropped I was still trying to convince myself that even though she has none of her Elder Blood features or her iconic emerald green, that she wore exclusively in the books, she couldn’t be that bad. Right? Wrong.

THE DEMEANOR

This is probably the biggest change. Calanthe was one of the wisest, most gracefully-written characters in the entire saga, and I really hoped to see that on screen. She was quick-witted, calculating, but at the same time caring enough to let her daughter choose her own destiny in the end (even if it was to be with a hedgehog-headed man twice her age). Her smiles were said to always be full of kindness, she was acting very proper and clearly cared about her image. I’m not going to be getting too much into it with my own words, let these examples speak for me:

'Ah, Geralt,' said Calanthe, with a gesture forbidding a servant from refilling her goblet. 'I speak and you remain silent. We're at a feast. We all want to enjoy ourselves. Amuse me. I'm starting to miss your pertinent remarks and perceptive comments. I'd also be pleased to hear a compliment or two, homage or assurance of your obedience. In whichever order you choose.' [...] 'Hochebuz,' said Calante, looking at Geralt, 'my first battle. Although I fear rousing the indignation and contempt of such a proud witcher, I confess that we were fighting for money. Our enemy was burning villages which paid us levies and we, greedy for our tributes, challenged them on the field. A trivial reason, a trivial battle, a trivial three thousand corpses pecked to pieces by the crows. And look - instead of being ashamed I'm proud as a peacock that songs are sung about me. Even when sung to such awful music' Again she summoned her parody of a smile full of happiness and kindness, and answered the toast raised to her by lifting her own, empty, goblet. Geralt remained silent. The Last Wish.

'Aha,' said Calanthe quietly, clearly pleased. 'And what do you say, Geralt? The girl has taken after her mother. It's even a shame to waste her on that red-haired lout, Crach. The only hope is that the pup might grow into someone with Eist Tuirseach's class. It's the same blood, after all. Are you listening, Geralt? Cintra has to form an alliance with Skellige because the interest of the state demands it. My daughter has to marry the right person. Those are the results you must ensure me.' The Last Wish.

‘Very well then. As queen, I shall convene a council tomorrow. Cintra is not a tyranny. The council will decide whether a dead king's oath is to decide the fate of the successor to the throne. It will decide whether Pavetta and the throne of Cintra are to be given to a stranger, or to act according to the kingdom's interest.' The Last Wish.

'Pavetta!' Calanthe repeated. 'Answer. Do you choose to leave with this creature?' Pavetta raised her head. 'Yes.' The Force filling the hall echoed her, rumbling hollowly in the arches of the vault. No one, absolutely no one, made the slightest sound. Calanthe very slowly, collapsed into her throne. Her face was completely expressionless. The Last Wish.

Guards, armed with guisarmes and lances, ran in from the entrance. Calanthe, upright and threatening, with an authoritative, abrupt gesture indicated Urcheon to them. Pavetta started to shout, Eist Tuirseach to curse. Everyone jumped up, not quite knowing what to do. ‘Kill him!' shouted the queen. The Last Wish.

CINTRA, RACISM AND MURDERING HER OWN PEOPLE

In the books, Cintra was often mentioned to be obiding by the rules of the elves:

‘Dear child,’ said Vesemir gravely, 'don’t let yourself get carried away by your emotions. You were brought up differently, you’ve seen children being brought up in another way. Ciri comes from the south where girls and boys are brought up in the same way, like the elves. She was put on a pony when she was five and when she was eight she was already riding out hunting. She was taught to use a bow, javelin and sword. A bruise is nothing new to Ciri—’ Blood of Elves.

There were many elves and dwarves living peacefully within its borders. Calanthe’s two names - Fiona and Riannon, come from her ancestors that are respectively a quarter and a half elf, and known to be that. Calanthe was the one who taught Ciri that non-humans are not dangerous:

‘I’m not afraid at all!’ Ciri suddenly cried, assuming her little devil face for a moment. ‘And I’m not parrotised! So you’d better watch your step! Nothing can happen to me here. Be sure! I’m not afraid. My grandmamma says that dryads aren’t evil, and my grandmamma is the wisest woman in the world! My grandmamma… My grandmamma says there should be more forests like this one…’ Sword of Destiny.

There was no actual reason nor basis for the showrunners to make her racist and make her murder elves. Having her walk into her own daughter’s birthday party, bathed in elven blood, while she knows that the same blood flows in her own veins, at least partially, was completely unnecessary. Even in the polish version of the show from 2001 Calanthe said:

RELATIONSHIP WITH GERALT

This probably hits me the most on personal level, because I feel like Calanthe had a huge impact on Geralt’s growth as a character, and with such a drastic change to their relationship, I’m unsure as to he will now proceed to develop. Calanthe was, in large, one of the first people in the books that treated Geralt as anything more than a mutant. Here are some of my favourite scenes between the two, in comparison with how their relationship was portrayed in the show:

"At times, no, for years at a time, I deluded myself that you might forget. Or that for other reasons you might be prevented from coming. No, I didn't want anything unfortunate to happen to you, but I had to take into consideration the dangerous nature of your profession. It is said that death follows in your footsteps, Geralt of Rivia, but that you never look behind you. Then... when Pavetta... You know already?" "I know," Geralt said, inclining his head. "My sincere condolences..." "No," she interrupted, "it was all long ago. I no longer wear mourning clothes, as you see. I wore them for long enough.” Sword of Destiny.

He slowly pushed the cup on the table so that the clink of silver on malachite would not betray the uncontrollable trembling of his arm. "You don't deny it?" "No." She bent to seize his hand with vigor. "You disappoint me," she said, giggling prettily. "This isn't voluntary," he responded, laughing as well. "How did you guess, Calanthe?" "I did not guess." She did not release his hand. "I said it at random, that's all." They broke out in laughter. Sword of Destiny.

"I will not take it. It is too great a responsibility, one that I refuse to assume. I would not want for this child to speak about you the way... the way I..." "You hate this woman, Geralt?" "My mother? No, Calanthe. I doubt that she was given a choice... or perhaps she had no say? No, she had, you know, enough formulas and elixirs... Choice. There is a sacred and incontestable choice of every woman that must be respected. Emotions are of no importance here. She had the indisputable right to make such a choice. That's what she did. But I think about meeting her, the expression on her face then... it gives me a sort of perverse pleasure, if you understand what I mean." Sword of Destiny.

A rosebush grew next to the gazebo. Geralt plucked a flower, breaking its stem and then knelt, his head bowed, presenting the flower in his hands. "I regret that I did not meet you sooner, white-haired one," she said, accepting the offered rose. "Rise." He rose. "If you change your mind," she went on, sniffing the flower, "if you decide... Return to Cintra. I will wait for you. Your destiny will be waiting for you, as well. Perhaps not advitam aeternam, but for some time, no doubt." "Farewell, Calanthe." "Farewell, witcher. Look after yourself. I... I sometimes feel... in a strange way... that I am seeing you for the last time." "Farewell, my queen." Sword of Destiny.

FALL OF CINTRA AND CALANTHE’S DEATH

We were robbed of so many epic scenes that truly took away from Calanthe’s millitary accomplishments and showed none of the strength and determination she originally had:

"The Nilfgaardians dealt the first blow," he began after a moment of silence. "There were thousands. They met with the armies of Cintra in the Marnadal valley. The battle lasted all day: from dawn to dusk. Cintra's troops valiantly resisted before being decimated. The king died, and that's when the queen..." "Calanthe." "Yes. Seeing that her army had succumbed to panic and scattered, she gathered around herself and her standard any who could still fight and formed a line of defense that reached the river, next to the city. All the soldiers who were still able followed." "And Calanthe?" "With a handful of knights, she covered the troops' crossing and defended the rear. They say she fought like a man, plunging into the thick of the battle. She was impaled by pikes when she charged against the Nilfgaardian infantry. She was then evacuated to the city. What's in that flask, Geralt?" "Vodka. Want some?" "Well then, gladly." "Speak. Continue, Dandelion. Tell me everything." "The city wasn't properly defended. There was no headquarters. The defensive walls were empty. The rest of the knights and their families, the princes and the queen, barricaded themselves in the castle. The Nilfgaardians then took the castle after their sorcerers reduced the gate to cinders and burned down the walls. Only the tower, apparently protected by magic, resisted the spells of the Nilfgaardian sorcerers. Even so, the attackers penetrated inside four days later without making camp. The women had killed the children, the boys and girls, and fell upon their own swords or... What's is it, Geralt?" "Continue, Dandelion." "Or... like Calanthe... head first, from the battlement, the very top... It's said that she asked to be... but no-one would agree. So she climbed up to the crenelations and... jumped head first. They say they did horrible things to the corpse afterward. I don't want... What is it?” Sword of Destiny.

I understand that this happened because of limited screen time, probably, but the whole Fall of Cintra had been squeezed into what seemed to be a single day, a crushing defeat for Calanthe’s forces, and probably in some way, punishment for her pride.

AFTER CALANTHE’S DEATH

While reading the rest of the saga, these little snipits of people talking about Calanthe, mentioning her, often with respect and reverence, mentioning how her people mourned her and swore revange for her, truly kept me going through. I wished that, at the end, Ciri would find it in herself to return home and liberate it, as back then I had no way to spoil myself the ending. In the books, you can really feel the outrage almost all of Continent feels after the murder of Calanthe:

[...] Cintra is a symbol. Remember Sodden! If it were not for the massacre of that town and Calanthe's martyrdom, there would not have been such a victory then. The forces were equal — no one counted on our crushing them like that. But our armies threw themselves at their throats like wolves, like rabid dogs, to avenge the Lioness of Cintra. Blood of Elves.

[...] Bear in mind that these men left their homes and families, and fled to Sodden and Brugge, and to Temeria, because they wanted to fight for Cintra, for Calanthe’s blood. They wanted to liberate their country, to drive the invader from Cintra, so that Calanthe’s descendant would regain the throne. Baptism of Fire.

In the show, there is none of that. In fact, people seem to be full of disdain and hatred for her, saying things such as:

which, in turn, fills me with dread for the upcoming seasons, because I can already feel all the further butchery coming my beloved Queen’s way.

IN CONCLUSION

In all honestly, there is very little the Calanthe from the show has in common with the one from the books, the one I originally fell in love with. Which is not to say that Netflix’s Calanthe is not a great character in her own right, because who doesn’t love a badass sword-wielding Queen, but as a portrayal of the greatest ruler within the Witcher universe, and one of, in my opinion, best written female rules in literature, she falls flat, and that’s what pushed me to write this useless and slightly bitter rant, in hopes to maybe interest more people in the original version of Calanthe and maybe, just maybe, prompt some of you to read the saga or, at the very least, the short stories.

#Calanthe fiona riannon #queen calanthe #anti-netflix #rant #ask to tag

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justkeeptrekkin · 4 years

Text

Wrote a little Good Omens/Star Trek crossover

.... for the awesome @comicgeekery. Thanks for the inspo!

5th April, 2063

“--historic day for humankind. For this is truly the first time that we have been able to refer to ourselves as such with the certainty that there is, in fact, life elsewhere in the perceivable universe.”

It’s a balmy, spring afternoon in London when Crowley rolls out of bed and turns on the television. Honestly, he’s fairly used to ignoring the news; it’s only on because he’d left it on channel one last night for a nature documentary that he and Aziraphale have been watching about whales. That’s why he pays very little attention to the picture on his projector screen.

“-- quite extraordinary. It seems as if this was all triggered by Zefram Cochrane's attempt at warp-speed flight, and er-- just coming in now, these beings call themselves Vulcans, Jane, and-- aha-- well, they’re not quite saying that they come in peace, but if our translators are correct, they’re offering us a long and prosperous life--”

Crowley slams his mug on the counter. He’s run out of coffee. He could very easily conjure up some more now, right here, but miracle-coffee is never as good as the nice Costa Rican stuff he buys. Or, more accurately, that Aziraphale buys for him, because he’s just that much of a kept man, apparently.

A knocking at the door. A light rapping that Crowley recognises immediately, and it would usually make him humiliatingly happy except for the fact that he’s just woken up from a--

He checks the time on the TV screen.

-- from a two week nap, he hasn’t got any coffee, and the TV is blabbering on far too loudly. Waving a hand at said TV until it is muted, Crowley slides over to the door, dressing gown belt flapping about against his leg, and opens it with a flourish.

Aziraphale has that bright-eyed, bushy-tailed look about him: never a good sign. “Crowley--”

Crowley plants a brief kiss on his cheek, then immediately retreats back into the kitchen, shoulders heavy with sleep. “I’m going back to sleep, angel. World’s too loud still.”

”Crowley--” the sound of the door slamming, very purposefully, Crowley thinks, as Azriaphale continues: “I have been trying to call you all morning. I thought you left your phone on vibrate for such things.”

“I did. Didn’t I?” Crowley scratches his head. He’s sure he’d changed the ring tone for Aziraphale’s phone number specifically so he’d wake up when only he called. “Apparently not, sorry Angel-- any news?”

He sees the way Aziraphale is rolling his eyes and flapping about when he turns back around from the kitchen with two mugs of tea. His hands are fiddling with each other in that excitable way that they do, a happy nervous way that he’s come to adore. Crowley hands him a cup. Aziraphale takes it with a pointed raise of his brow.

“Any -- any news? Really. You could not have asked a more absurd--”

At that point, apparently, he’s lost for words. More frustrated than Crowley realised, and so he begins to take Aziraphale’s bright eyes and bushy tail a little more seriously. Particularly when Aziraphale puts down the cup of tea of all things, and gestures to the television, one arm outstretched and gaze still fixed on Crowley.

The screen remains muted. However, Crowley gathers what Aziraphale is gesturing at fairly quickly. He’s so used to letting the news blend into the background, tired of feeling depressed by the human race -- especially with this World War III nonsense -- that he’d completely missed that something, actually, rather important has been happening.

It looks like the research base in San Francisco. Crowley knows only a little about this; as the angel who created a fair few of the stars in the sky, he takes interest when humans start pointing their big magnifying glasses at them. Zefram Cochrane, the inventor of warp-speed engines, and a few other important looking men (who may well be important, what does Crowley know? He hasn’t been paying attention) welcomes three people. People, except they’re not human. Humanoid, perhaps, but human? No. Crowley can spot an alien a mile off.

“Crikey,” he mutters, hovering in his sparse living room with his dressing gown open and tea steaming.

Aziraphale nods fervently.

“Which ones are these?”

“These are the Vulcans,” Aziraphale explains. “Do you remember? Our colleagues -- oh, I forget their names -- a few of our colleagues helped set up. Erm.” Aziraphale purses his lips. “Well, their version of Eden.”

“Something like Sha Ka Ray, if I remember,” Crowley mutters, unblinking as he watches one of the Vulcans raise their hand in a v-shape, the humans mimicking.

“That was it! Sha Ka Ree.”

They’re wearing long, heavy cloaks. Even expressions, but glints in their eyes, as if they are taking some professional enjoyment out of this. The humans, barely containing their own excitement -- and probably a good dose of apprehension. Human beings, finally meeting an alien species who could take them down a notch, teach the buggers a couple of things. Crowley and Aziraphale certainly never managed to, much as they’ve tried. Far too stubborn.

After a while of sitting and watching the proceedings-- the beginnings of a new, enterprising delegation-- Crowley gives a long exhale.

“Those bowl cuts are questionable.”

Stardate: 53459 (17th July 2269)

“What? Just give them a quick ring? Give the flagship of Starfleet’s exploratory expedition a cheeky call, just to check in? ‘Hello Enterprise, nice to meet you’?”

“Yes. Why, do you not think that they’d appreciate it?”

“It’s less that they won’t appreciate it and more that it might blow their tiny minds, Angel.”

“They’ve met plenty of extraordinary species by this point -- extraordinary by their standards, anyway. A call from us will be -- how do they put it -- ‘a walk in the park’--?”

“Not the point. That’s -- that’s actually the bit that I’m struggling with, here. What is the point, exactly? What are you aiming to achieve? You looking to freak them out or…?”

“Well, I thought perhaps we could… ah. Tell them who we are.”

Aziraphale looks at Crowley. Red hair tied up, ringlets around his face; silver eye-shadow; a black jumpsuit in the style of the Terran fashion that really leaves very little to the imagination, with cut-outs here and there all over his body. Legs crossed, foot bouncing impatiently, arms sprawled across the back of Aziraphale’s sofa. In his old bookshop, Crowley always sticks out like a sore thumb, and he’s always loved that about him.

He tilts his head. “Really,” he drawls, vaguely amused.

“Yes. Don’t you think it’s about time?”

“IIIII dunno…” Crowley sucks air through his teeth contemplatively. “Never ends very well. Tell humans that angels and demons roam their planet and they get all agitated. Don’t need to tell you that, you remember how much it traumatised dear old Hieronymous. Couldn’t stop painting us, the poor bastard.”

Aziraphale sighs. “Yes, well, that was different. That was almost a millennia ago, now.”

The bookshop is still just as dusty as it has ever been. Crowley has been urging him to at least install a proper computer -- one that will answer to him, rather than sitting there stupidly, looking like a brick. But he is quite happy with it as it is, especially when he has Crowley here, lounging about as he’s always done, draped across the furniture like he’s still wrapped around that apple tree. And drinking more wine than is good for them.

“Right so -- let’s just role-play this--” Crowley’s glass makes a decisive clink against the table, “-- we patch into their network. Right? I find their frequency and just, try and call from my PADD.”

“Yes,” he confirms, not liking his partner’s tone of voice.

“So then they answer, all, military-like and ready for some sort of diplomatic… situation.”

“Mm…”

Crowley’s leaning forward in his seat, gesticulating a enthusiastically. “They see us, they’re all, ‘oi, how did you get this number?’ and we’re all, ‘sorry, just thought we’d pop in and introduce ourselves, we’re your new neighbours,’” he wrinkles his nose mockingly, “‘Cept we’re not new at all, not really, we’ve been here since the dawn of time, but don’t worry too much about that’.”

“Well--”

“So they’re all, ‘ah, immortal beings from outer space!’ and we have to explain that, actually, we’re not really from space at all, we’re the ones who made space, and no, sorry, we’d love to patch you through to God, except She’s been a little busy for the past six thousand odd years, no can do, just got us boring old sods’.”

“Crowley, really. Don’t you think you’re being a little reductionist?”

“No.” Suddenly serious. “I don’t. They’re humans. They’re brilliant, but they’re also humans, which means they’re also thick as shit.”

Aziraphale purses his lips, electing to ignore the love of his life for this moment. Sitting up properly, linking his hands in his lap. “I think it’s time.”

“And what do you think they’ll do?”

“Perhaps it will bring about some new, interesting philosophy. About the nature of the universe, of the overlap between science and faith.”

Crowley’s brow quirks, yellow eyes staring, wide and disbelieving. “Some ‘new and interesting philosophy’? Books. You’re talking about books. You think you’ll get some nice literature out of this.”

Aziraphale flounders. “Well, that’s not exactly how I’d put it--”

Crowley scowls. But then, he’s taking out his PADD from his purse, making aggravated noises as his fingers fly across the screen.

“You’re doing it?” Aziraphale asks hopefully.

“Yes, yes. You got all happy as soon as you started talking about it and-- I was never really going to say no, was I? You know how pathetic I am by this point, surely.”

He’s not looking at him, but Aziraphale is gazing with those big, angel-eyes that Crowley’s told him he uses sometimes. They drive him insane, but he can’t help it, not when Crowley’s being so unintentionally romantic. “Oh, Crowley.”

“Shhhht. Stop. I’m not doing anything nice, I’m--”

“Not nice, I know.”

Aziraphale smiles serenely. Crowley’s scowl deepens, just as the PADD begins to ring.

The screen is propped up against a wine bottle, just in time for the image to reveal a man. A man in green and gold, sand-blonde hair swept back and a look of cautious curiosity in his hazel eyes. Behind his chair, a woman in red is leaning over the controls. The captain’s head is angled slightly, tilted as he seems to consider his situation -- consider the two strangers who have called their starship.

“Greetings, this is Captain Kirk of the Starship: Enterprise. To whom am I speaking?”

“Oh, how exciting,” Aziraphale whispers, nudging Crowley a little. Then, more loudly, “Greetings, Captain Kirk! My name is Aziraphale, and this is Crowley.”

Crowley sighs, seeming very put upon.

Aziraphale nudges him again. “Well! Don’t be rude, Crowley.”

“Yes, hello, how very nice to meet you,” he simpers accordingly.

“This is a secure line, gentlemen. How did you access our co-ordinates?”

“Ah, yep, sorry, my fault,” Crowley waves a hand. “I’m -- well, we’re, er… we can do stuff. Lots of stuff. He’ll explain later.”

He shoots Aziraphale a glare, which seems to be a warning that this could go horribly wrong. Aziraphale, ever the opportunist, elects to ignore this.

“That I shall,” Aziraphale adds, pointedly.

Kirk thinks. He thinks, sitting so still as he leans towards the monitor, that for a moment, Azirpahale thinks the screen has frozen. Then, turning his head to his right, he notes that he is talking to someone. A certain someone who then appears on screen, a royal blue shirt and hands clasped behind his back. A Vulcan. The two converse with a silent look.

Ah. Aziraphale knows that look very well.

“Be that as it may,” Kirk continues, turning back to them, “it is technically a federal crime to trace Starfleet co-ordinates and to contact a ship without first organising an official meeting. That is, unless it is an emergency.”

“Oh, yes, I have heard of your ship’s adventures, captain,” Aziraphale rushes. He puts down his glass of wine. “You’ve done an awful lot of good, helping those in need.”

“We… do our best,” he says with a slow nod.

“Sorry. For the, er… illegal call,” Crowley says.

Another moment where both men share a glance. And then, the Vulcan in blue tilts an inquisitive chin.

“Sir, may I enquire as to the colour of your eyes? They do not appear to be contact lenses.”

It takes a moment for Crowley to realise that he’s the one being addressed. Then, “Ah! Bollocks. Forgot the sunglasses-- see Aziraphale, this is why we don’t call Starfleet when we’ve had two bottles of Rioja.”

“Awfully sorry, dear--”

The captain looks up at his colleague with a wry smile and a raised brow. “Spock, don’t you think it’s a little rude to as a stranger questions about their appearance?”

“A stranger who has made contact with Starfleet’s flagship outside of legal parameters.”

“Still, politeness can go a long way,” he adds with a smirk, and a look in his eyes that’s, quite frankly, obscene.

Crowley clears his throat. “To answer your question-- although, seems like they’re more interested in each other,” he says to Aziraphale as an aside, “- to answer your question, yeah, they’re real. Snake eyes. Unfortunate accident involving a bastard called Lucifer.”

A pause. The man named Spock tilts his head. Kirk leans forward in his seat.

“Lucifer, you say?”

At that, Crowley gives a wicked smile. Aziraphale sighs. This wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined this conversation starting.

Stardate: 51650 (9th May 2271)

“My point is -- my point is -- tribbles. Tribbles, now -- whose idea were those, then? Who thought they were a good idea? They’ve -- they’ve not got faces, they’ve not got hands or feet or paws or anything, just, little balls of fluff that just poof! Reproduce, until you’re up to your tits in furballs.”

“Now, tha’s what ah been tryna tell yeh, captain. And you mind what he’s saying, too, Lieutenant Uhura! I know you thought they’s adorable, but they’re terrors.”

“Pointless, they’re pointless. Don’t know what they were thinking of when they made tribbles, whoever they were.”

“Aye! See, straight from the mouth of an angel!”

“Er, former angel.”

”Them wee bastards’ve been cloggin’ up my ship’s engine, would ye believe?”

“Our ship, Scotty.”

“Oh. Well, o’course, captain… I didnae mean no disrespect, captain--”

“In Russia--”

“I swear, if you’re about to say that Russia invented tribbles, Chekov, I’ll kick you out of this here bar faster than you can say Alabama Slammer.”

“Alright, now, Bones, it’s shore leave. He can say what he wants. We’re all here to relax. Isn’t that right, Spock?”

“Yeah, he sure looks relaxed there, Jim.”

“I am not accustomed to frequenting such establishments.”

“I would like to state, for the wecord, sir, that I was not going to say that Russia inwented tribbles.”

“I -- ah -- actually, I have a bit of a confession to make in that respect…”

“Angel. Please. Please don’t tell me that you’re… Christ, you didn’t…”

“You are the angel responsible for creating the tribble species?”

“You have a lot to answer for, Aziraphale.”

“It wasn’t intentional! Or, rather, the intention was to simply create a creature so lovely and adorable that no one could quite resist it. And, I suppose, what with evolution and how that may have changed their, erm, reproduction process…”

“You bastard.”

“Crowley -- for Heaven’s sake, it was simply an accident! You can hardly say that it’s worse than some of your creations.”

“I invented Luton airport. You invented the universe’s most irritating pest. Honestly, I figured some lower ranking demon had been the one to come up with it, but now I feel, sort of… betrayed.”

“Don’t say that! May I remind you that you are the one who came up with the M25? Which nearly destroyed the universe as we know it!”

“I beg your pardon? Would you care to rewind and just, explain that last bit, Aziraphale?”

“Oh -- er, it’s a long story.”

“A very long story that would mean another round. Angel, you are definitely bloody-well buying.”

Stardate: 43897 (24th November 2366)

“You know, when you said that you wanted to check-in with Picard and the team, this isn’t what I imagined.”

Their call isn’t immediately picked up. However, when it is, the first thing they see is a large barbershop quartet. They’re all wearing pink, candy-stripe suits and wicker hats. The bridge of the Enterprise looks much the same as it did under captain Kirk, if not for this barbershop quartet, and perhaps a few technological tweaks. And, of course, the current captain who sits in his chair, face in his hand.

“Er.” Crowley looks at Aziraphale, who looks back at Crowley. “This doesn’t look like a good time.”

“No, by all means,” Picard gestures to the screen, other hand still covering his face. “If you have any advice to offer, then I will happily take it.”

“What…” Aziraphale trails off, purses his lips. The, trying to affect something light and airy, “What seems to be the problem, captain?”

Picard looks over the edge of his hand. “Are you aware of the being that calls itself ‘Q’?”

He’s about to say that he isn’t -- perhaps Crowley knows this Q?-- but before they even have a moment to deliberate, the tallest of the barbershop quartet members steps forward from the throng and hops down the steps to Picard’s side. Dark eyes that have seen too much, brightened by mischief. And for a moment, there is the faintest flicker of recognition as he doffs his hat to the screen, leaning against Picard’s captain chair.

“Good day to you, gentlemen. Did you like my song?”

“No,” Picard says quite firmly. “Now, would you please leave and take your pestering elsewhere!”

Q tuts, rolls his eyes. Pokes his thumb in Picard’s direction. “He’s just grumpy because he hasn’t had his morning cup of Earl Grey.”

“You…”

It’s Crowley that says this. Leaning forward on Aziraphale’s sofa, snake pupils narrowing. And it’s then that Aziraphale realises that this is absolutely someone they know. He just can’t put his finger on it, whilst Crowley clearly has.

“You know him?” Picard says, with the smallest flicker of hope.

“Wait. Wait a second now,” Q points his finger at Crowley, frown deepening. He miracles his hat away, cradles his chin. “Now, we worked together a long time ago, didn’t we?”

That makes Aziraphale stare back at Crowley.

There’s some hesitance. “Oh. Sure, probably. Long time ago, now, wasn’t it? Who knows. Worked with lots of people.”

“No, no, no -- we did a lot of creating with each other. Some fun messing around you know?”

“Er. Not sure. Might have a different person in mind--”

And then those eyes widen. A wicked grin on his face, and Aziraphale can only imagine that this Q must be a demon.

That’s when Aziraphale finds himself standing on the bridge of the Enterprise. Jean-Luc Picard looking up at them despairingly, whilst the rest of his crew work as diligently as they can with a quartet serenading them. Data, notably, is working with the utmost focus, whilst Wharf looks like he’s two seconds away from ripping something in half bare-handed. Riker looks no more patient.

“Oh,” Aziraphale remarks. “You’ve -- you miracled us here!”

No use, Q is far too preoccupied by Crowley. Pointing a finger in recognition. “You’re Crawly! I remember you! Oh, we got up to some good stuff together, huh? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any of the guys from the Milky Way neighbourhood. You guys really like to keep to yourselves, I never understood it. Totally obsessed with your ‘Eden’ as if the rest of us don’t exist.”

“You o know him,” Picard says with some accusation.

Crowley looks, to put it lightly, a little embarrassed. Hands sliding in his pockets and averting his snake-eyed gaze, “Yup. Long time ago. Hung out with a different crowd, then, you got to understand…”

“Qasphiel.” The name bubbles up on Aziraphale’s tongue from nowhere; memories of a gaggle of angels who called themselves the Q Continuum, who were cast out for blasphemy. Creating your own little gang was never something that The Almighty did like. “You’re Qasphiel. You know, I do remember you, now that I think about it.”

Q looks Aziraphale up and down once. “I don’t remember you. Were you one of the more straight-laced types? Yeah, we wouldn’t have hung out, much.”

“Excuse me? I… I’ll have you know, that since then I’ve become quite the rebel--”

“What’re you doing here, Qasphiel?” Crowley interrupts with some exhaustion. “Coming in here and getting on everyone’s nerves -- believe me, I get that it’s fun for a while, but, come on. You must be a bit knackered of it now, no matter what the others are getting you to do.”

“Ah, but I don’t work on anyone’s terms any more. Not even the Continuum’s,” Q smiles smugly.

“That’s awfully nice, but the alternative is buggering off, so the rest of us can get on with our lives.”

He narrows his eyes at Crowley. “What’s in it for me?”

A weary sigh. And Aziraphale considers just how kind Crowley has always been, even if he doesn’t always see it. “Listen. How about -- what about a catch-up. Grab a drink on some planet in the Omicron Delta quadrant. Talk about old times? Big Bang and all that?”

“Ah yes,” Q sighs. Then, apparently distracted, “You know, I don’t recall the yellow eyes,” he gestures to his own. “The demonic thing. Did you fall with Lucy and the others, Crawly? Bad luck.”

“That’s a story that needs telling over a drink.”

There’s a long moment -- too long a moment -- where Q considers this offer. Picard is leaning back in his seat and watching the interaction over steepled fingers. Even Data has stopped to listen, head tilted in interest.

Then, Q shrugs.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

And with that, Picard’s bridge is once again empty of divine or immortal beings. Or barbershop quartets. It is extraordinarily quiet.

Picard lets out a long exhale. “Never a dull day.”

Stardate: unknown

Three suns set upon the horizon of Alpha Centauri. Palm trees wave in the breeze; planted there a few decades ago when this planet first became populated by humanoid species. The air tastes like salt and smells like ozone. A burning orange sky, a deep purple scattering of stars directly above them. Small, clay houses, their shutters closed in the late afternoon heat. Mountain ranges in the distance, seeming so small from their little balcony.

“Total tourist trap,” Crowley mutters into his glass of Romulan ale.

Aziraphale stifles a burp. “Sorry?”

“Look at it. Tourist trap.” Crowley crosses his legs on the railing of the balcony. “All of it. Built like a Terran city, as well. Palm trees and all that bollocks. Shops and restaurants, Christ, it couldn’t get more human if you tried. When will they stop colonising and just learn to appreciate?”

“Mmm.”

“Remember when we could come here and not be harassed by people selling sunglasses? When it was just a big, ol’ expanse?”

“Empty,” Aziraphale remarks. Then, wide eyed, “Hot.”

They watch the first sun dip behind the mountain ranges. The Romulan ale burns Crowley’s throat nicely.

“D’you ever wonder what it would’ve been like?”

Aziraphale takes a slow, indulgent breath. And Crowley knows that he understands what he’s asking. “Sometimes. But I think it’s better that we didn’t run away. We did save the universe, after all.”

“I know, obviously. But do you ever wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t?”

Of course he does. They both have. Images of a war-torn universe, of all of this: gone.

Crowley drops his hand, finds Aziraphale’s. Their fingers link, and they absorb the light of three, alien stars.

#star trek #good omens #ineffable husbands #lmao #my writing #this was meant to be 5 +1 times and i just realised it was 4+1 #oops sorry m8

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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A Road to Somewhere, Chapter 3 (Adore Delaska) - Puppy

Chapter Summary: Adore meets up with the infamous Grand Witch and finally gets that job! But at what costs?

A/N: Happy belated Halloween and Samhain to all who celebrate. It’s Halloween when I’m submitting this my time, but it’ll be November when it gets posted. I figured the sentiment was still nice. Anyway, I figured a good thing to ring in the holiday was yet another story of spirits and witches.

This chapter is surprisingly longer than I thought it was going to be, but it was still nice to write. Thanks again to @chaoticnachokitten and @thackeryisatop for beta-ing.

I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 3

TW: emotional abuse.

Adore found herself in a smaller storage room; it was probably a loading dock in the past. She passed by a small sink with a towel on a hanger. It was probably Raja’s whenever they decided to leave their post. Wrapped boxes and jars still had tags on them, and there were a few planks of wood and coils of rope neatly placed nearby. She didn’t have much time to take everything in though; there was somewhere she needed to be sooner than later.

Rio knew what she was doing; she looked like she went through this route for years. “The Grand Witch lives way up at the top, in the back of the house.” She said, beckoning the human to follow her down this path.

Following suit, she was led to an entrance marked by large moving gears. Adore looked up, admiring the mechanisms for a short second. There was a myriad of pulley systems, presumably enchanted as well, that made her severely underestimate how tall and large the bathhouse really was. It seemed endless, but perhaps that was the point. Not everyone could visit a witch who claimed to have such high esteem. Two elevators moved along the wires: two metal cabinets labelled on the outside. She didn’t have too much time to wonder about that, though.

“Get over here! We don’t have all night.”

“Coming!” Adore shook herself out of her state of awe and ran into another elevator where her guide was. It was a smaller wooden lift that didn’t have a door or proper walls, but it was made up for it being surrounded mainly by stone. There wasn’t any risk of her falling out any time soon. The redhead clung to the back wall (more like the back piece of plywood, if she could be more accurate), staring as it went farther up the bathhouse.

“You wanna lose your nose, kid?” She was pulled back by Rio’s forceful grip, and she thus threw her arms around the older spirit. “Hey, what are you doing?!“ Rio questioned.

"Aaaah! Sorry,” Adore answered, backing away from the older woman.

The elevator passed through many floors, and the human couldn’t keep track of what was going on on each one. They all reeked of opulence; this witch practically owned everything. The railings and beams supporting the house were made of cherry red wood with ornate gold carvings. The hardwood floors were barely even noticeable from the amount of workers who were there. She could never really tell how many of them were on said floor since they all blurred together. Some were carrying trays of food, or were they herbal soaks? Maybe some were pushing a dolly of some substance. The world was passing right before her eyes; plus her view was partly obscured by Rio’s body, hiding her from any suspicion.

The lift eventually stopped, letting Rio and Adore off on a higher floor. They faced a hallway of painted floral walls. Empty woven containers rested on yet another wall; they almost looked like birdhouses, but could easily be taken apart to build a nest of sorts. Above the walls, were small golden plates, also painted with flower arrangements. This witch must really like her flowers, Adore pondered as she started skipping on the hardwood. She didn’t have time to take in every little detail; hopefully her new motions would make her go faster. The loudest sounds the two could hear were their own footsteps. “So…” she attempted to start some conversation, “how long have you been here?”

“Hell if I know.” Rio continued, wanting to bash her head into one of those walls. Being part of an escort mission was the last thing she wanted to do today. “And watch your volume. The point of this is not to get discovered, remember?”

The human covered her mouth for a bit as they passed by chefs in dark, cone shaped hats and face masks preparing a kind of banquet. Some ladled soup into small red bowls while others placed cherry tomatoes in black bowls. There were off-handed comments and complaints about how it wasn’t spicy enough or how it was going to get cold before they could serve it. Adore nearly wanted to dive into the buffet for whatever she liked, but she found herself turning the corner and into yet another elevator. Thankfully, they were able to make it in before it closed, and before the woman who exited noticed their presence.

“We’re about halfway there. Just… stay close, y’hear?” The woman with the raccoon-like eyes pulled down a lever and up they went.

“Uh… party.” She smiled awkwardly and retreated to the back of the lift. This elevator was a little different as one part of the back wall wasn’t solid stone. It acted as a window to another part of the house. It looked like a series of tubs with guests destressing in its waters, but she couldn’t make out many details. Her vision was shrouded with a blanket of steam. Before she could take in anything more, the elevator stopped on another floor. The two of them were not as lucky this time.

A rather large patron was standing in front of them. From further inspection, he seemed furry with two large tusk-like appendages dangling from his face.The only articles of clothing that it wore were a large red bowl for a hat and an equally red loincloth on his torso. He looked at the worker and the invasive human pensively. Rio’s face grimaced at the sight of another spirit who desired to use the lift.

“Welcome…” Rio gasped and forced a toothy smile on her face as Adore slinked behind her. “What can I do for you?” The radish spirit didn’t really respond; he grumbled as he slowly pointed a finger upwards. “I’m sorry, sir. This elevator is out of service. Can’t go any higher. Have to take another one.” She maintained that smile as she walked out of the elevator. As soon she couldn’t see the spirit, her smile dropped. “Glad that’s taken care of,” she whispered when she was out of earshot. As they continued on, Adore swore she heard footsteps, but didn’t want to say anything just yet.

The two made their way onto an arched bridge, and it was then the redhead was starstruck by the interior of the bathhouse. The floral patterning was not confined to that one hallway, as it seemed to decorate many other parts of that floor. She looked down, getting a better glimpse of what she saw on the elevator ride. There definitely was a series of tubs, and she could make out some of the figures on that bottom floor.

The ducks from earlier fit in one of the larger tubs, but there were more than she had seen before. Did they multiply like gremlins? Never mind that; there were more interesting sights than large ducks overflowing a pool. A worker in a blue kimono gave an antlered spirit a massage, while two others were filing some oblong entity’s nails. They massaged and pampered these creatures to their heart’s content.

As soon as the two stepped off the bridge, the two women turned a corner. Adore looked back, the radish spirit leering back at them from where they just left. “Rio, I think he’s following us…” She whispered, pulling at Rio’s free arm.

“Quit gawking. It’s rude.”

The human quickly whipped her head back forward and sooner than later they found themselves in front of an elevator. Rio pressed the button as Adore squished herself between the corner and the spirit in front of her. The radish spirit finally caught up to them, staring at the door in earnest; his undulating chest directly in Rio’s line of sight. Anyone around him could hear his breathing. She closed her eyes and turned her head the other way. Unfortunately, she didn’t have much time to rest. The elevator doors opened, but it wasn’t full, much to her surprise.

Three monsters in fluffy white bathrobes stepped out of the elevator with a frog-like worker following behind them, escorting them to their rooms. He wore a white and blue version of what Rio was wearing and was about as tall as her too. The frogman stopped his conversation, sniffing his nose as he turned around looking his coworker dead in the eyes. “Rio!” He barked.

Surprised, and annoyed at being discovered, she pushed Adore into the elevator and plastered that retail smile back on her face. “What is it?” she asked through gritted teeth. The radish spirit followed the young girl into the elevator, clearly not aware of her existence. Or perhaps he was and he refused to say anything about the intruder’s presence.

“What’s that smell?” The frogman sniffed his nose again and widened his eyes, “Aha! A human! You reek of human!” Adore turned her head and sniffed herself; was her odor that strong? Yes, she hadn’t showered since the morning, but not everyone needed to point it out.

“Never would have guessed.” Rio retorted.

“You’re hiding something, aren’t you? Come on! Spill!”

The woman reached into her pocket and pulled out the newt Raja had given her. “Is this what you’re looking for?” She dangled it in front of his face.

The frog’s mouth watered at the sight of it, moaning out of hunger. “Give me that!”

His attempt was thwarted by Rio pulling it out of his grasp. “Well, I was gonna share this with the other girls. But since you asked so nicely…”

“Please? At least a leg! Just a leg will do!”

She kept pulling the newt farther and farther away, sometimes shifting her position to get it out of the man’s grasp. “If you wanna go up,” Rio instructed, “just pull the lever on the right.” Adore gave a thumbs up from her currently cramped state and managed to pull the lever from the ends of her fingertips. The last thing she saw before the doors finally closed was her guide popping the roasted lizard into her mouth, as one final act of spite.

The elevator ride was a little uncomfortable; one could easily cut the awkward tension with a butterknife. Adore took it upon herself to study more of her companion’s appearance. He had curly green hair… or was it leaves. He was called the “radish spirit”, so was he one? Or did he just look like one. Hell, this isn’t the strangest shit I’ve seen today… She pondered as she stopped herself from paying attention to the radish spirit’s dad bod.

The first floor the lift stopped at wasn’t the floor she needed to be. It was mostly empty hallways with pairs of sandals neatly decorating the hardwood. There were many shadows behind a series of patterned changing screens. Was this some sort of sleeping arrangements? Before Adore could think about exploring the place, the radish spirit realized this wasn’t the floor he was looking for, pulling the lever yet again. The human huffed a complaint. On the other hand, there wasn’t any time to explore; she had somewhere important to be.

After the awkward detour, the elevator finally stopped at the first floor. They both stepped out and scanned the area. If the scenery of the bathhouse didn’t stun her enough, then this top floor definitely did. This floor screamed wealth and was even more opulent than the floors she traversed earlier. Instead of the hardwood, the two were standing on some sort of marble with other colored tiles neatly placed in pretty patterns. Surrounding the middle sat large expensive vases accentuated by architecture embossed with more floral patterns. Adore let out a breath she never realized she held as her widened eyes soaked in all of the intricacies. The radish spirit stepped back into the elevator, bowing to her before the doors closed.

She quickly bowed back and was alone yet again. She wearily walked down the hall, her breath loud and her shoulders practically to her ears. The girl nearly flinched as she heard the echoes of her own footsteps. I should have asked Lask before this shit happened… she thought, playing with her sleeves. This needed to be over with soon. How hard could getting a job be? She stopped at a small staircase and looked up.

Two bright red doors stood before her underneath a bird-like crest embossed with the symbol she saw earlier that day. There was something off about the right door, though. As she approached that door, she took careful watch of the knocker. It was engraved with the face of a woman, but not just any woman. She seemed to be the bird woman who patrolled when she first met Lask. Come to think of it, the crest looked vaguely familiar too, but that had to be a coincidence. Adore grabbed the handle and started to pull, but she was quickly stopped by an unseen voice.

“Well, aren’t you going to knock?”

She flinched back as if she had just touched a hot iron.

“Gods, you’re honestly the most pathetic thing I’ve seen all day!” The voice continued. She sounded mature for her age. Was that the Grand Witch she had been looking for? After insulting the human, whoever was speaking must have made a decision to pity her. The door opened by itself, revealing more doors that opened in sync. The hallway that stood before Adore was fascinating. There was a small chandelier in every little intersection, like every hallway in front of her had been Xeroxed multiple times. “Don’t be shy, you can come in.”

No matter how inviting the woman sounded, the human was still starstruck. She shook and clung to her shirt, but not out of fear. Or at least that was what Adore wanted to believe. She was thirteen; she shouldn’t be afraid of things anymore, or at least things as silly as a jumpscare.

“I said, come IN.” Adore felt something slowly tugging at the front of her shirt. She pulled back, but she stopped for a bit. The tugging quickly came back, grabbing at the collar and yanking her down the hallway at an impeccable speed, about the same speed when she tripped on the stairs. Doors seemed to close as soon as she entered them, and as soon as there weren’t any more doors, the force sharply turned its subject around the corner. She barely had any time to take in any more intricate patterns. For all she knew, she was floating across a sea of garnet and gold. The invisible grip let her go as soon as she went through a last set of doors, throwing her down and letting her fall face first into the patterned red carpet.

Sitting herself back up, the human caught her breath, tempted to hop on one of the two plush red armchairs that surrounded her. The fireplace crackled, causing Adore to jump a little bit. She looked around the room a little more until she caught the gaze of a woman working at her desk. If she was the Grand Witch Visage, she wasn’t like anything the girl was expecting. The woman was a lot younger than she first expected, but not too young. She seemed practically old enough to be her mother… or at least a mother. She had well-defined cheekbones and a sharp chin. Her dark hair was up in a tight bun, while the top of her chest practically spilled out of her dress as she was working on some sort of paperwork. Her bony fingers picked up the pen and continued her writing. “Oh good, you didn’t break anything,” she barely noticed the human in front of her. Then again, the room always had a thin layer of smoke surrounding everything. “That’s more than I expected from you.”

The human brushed off her shorts and cautiously approached the woman. “Hey…umm… Please give me a job.” The witch simply stared at her for a split second, then returned to her work. With every movement of the pen, she felt something strange. Adore attempted to speak again, but as soon as she took a breath, her mouth was slowly closing, like some invisible seamstress sewed her lips together. Upon that realization, she quickly panicked, trying to force her mouth back open with as much force her fingers could allow, but it was merely in vain. Brute strength was nothing against a witch’s spell.

“There… much better,” Michelle smirked, continuing her work and avoiding eye contact with the shaken human. “You open your mouth for one second and you’ve already said too much. Especially with that request of yours. Get you a job… This isn’t the place for a human. This is a bathhouse, where eight million spirits can rest their bones.” She placed a small bag of gold in a coin box with her free hand as she continued her rant. The witch stopped for a moment and set her pen down, picking up a long cigarette in its holder instead. She twiddled it around, clinking with the many rings adorning her fingers. She then stopped and stared directly at Adore. “Your mother had some nerve, didn’t she?”

Adore’s brow furrowed; anger started coming to her in a slow boil. If circumstances were normal, she would be throwing a punch towards the woman’s direction, or she’d pull out a knife. However, all she could do was just stand there and take this beatdown.

“Now my customers are hungry and it’s all her fault. It’s a good thing in time that she’ll be next on the menu.” Michelle continued, her voice dripping with venomous honey. “Wait a second,” she lit the cigarette with her fingers and took a drag , blowing some smoke in the human’s general direction. “It’s not entirely her fault… It was yours!” Her jaw would have been on the floor by now. “You could’ve stopped her. You could have even avoided entering this realm… but you didn’t. And now you can’t go home! Now what do you have to say about that?”

As expected, there was only muffled nonsense coming from the human’s mouth. Adore was practically shaking at this point: mostly out of fear and panic. Neither of them could have known that this land was sacred. Logically, it couldn’t be her fault, but why was she believing it? Was that… monster just that persuasive?

“Just as I thought…” She tapped at the holder, a few ashes piled onto the table. “You’d make a good piglet. It fits with that body of yours… or maybe a lump of coal. That way you’ll be useful for once…” The Grand Witch laughed seeing the human’s now frazzled state, blowing another cloud of smoke. “You’re trembling… Actually, I’m impressed you made it this far,” she spoke with a twinge of sincerity, “but I know you couldn’t have done it alone. Someone had to have helped you.” She slowed down her speech slightly as if she was talking down to a child. Then again, for all she knew Adore could have been a young child; Michelle stopped caring about age a long time ago.“All… you have.. to do… is tell me… who… it… was….”

Adore let out a heavy breath when the witch finally broke the enchantment on her lips. She balled her fists. “I just want a job here.”

“Again with this, aren’t you done with th-”

“PLEASE! I JUST WANT A FUCKIN’ JOB, GODDAMMIT!”

“SHUT UP!” This angered the witch further as the pile of paperwork began to flutter around her as she tensed up. Shortly afterwards, she shot herself into the air and knocked her things off the desk. Michelle Visage landed directly in front of Adore, intimidating the teen. She forced her to make eye contact, towering her body over her. “Why should I hire you?! Anybody with half a brain can see that you’re a whiny, foul-mouthed, lazy, spoiled crybaby. And stupid to boot.” Her long nails dug into the girl’s chest with every insult. “There’s nothing here for you. This is a HIGH CLASS business, and I have all the lazy bums I need.” She then moved behind the frightened woman. “Or maybe… you’d like the nastiest job I’ve got, and work

you until you breathe your very last breath. How does that sound?” The witch asked, walking her fingers along Adore’s arm until they reached her neck. As she was about to apply more pressure, the room began to violently shake.

The contents of her desk, plus a candelabra atop the fireplace, crashed onto the carpet. Michelle stopped and stood back as she heard the cries of a child from within the room. Momentarily forgetting about the human nuisance, she rushed to the other side where she was met by splinters from the door nearing her face. “Stop that,” her voice showed genuine concern and passion as she poked her head in through the door hole. “What’s the matter, baby?” She was met with a large foot kicking her face. Chunks of green painted wood ended up in her bun. “It’s okay… Mama’s here…” After attending to her child’s needs, she turned back to the human, her demeanor turning 180 degrees. “What are you still doing? Can’t you tell this is a private moment?”

“YES, BUT I WANT A JOB. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR?” Adore yelled over the various other sounds in the room.

“Be quiet! You’re scaring the baby!” She turned back towards her child, continuing her baby voice. “Hi, sweetie. She’ll be gone soon enough. Don’t be mad.

“I’ll leave your office if you give me a job.” She smirked, not moving an inch..

Michelle sighed, comforting the baby one last time. “It’s okay.. Mommy will be with you in a bit.” As she entered, the contents that had been knocked over slowly floated back to their respective places. Adore waited for the business to be over with, tapping her foot impatiently. She knew she won in this situation. Her mom was gonna be saved soon enough. How bad could this be?

The witch returned, pulling planks out of her hair as a pen and empty piece of parchment found Adore’s hands. “That’s your contract,” Michelle explained as she returned to her desk, “just sign your name, and I’ll put you to work. And if I hear one little complaint out of you, you’ll be joining your family in the pigpen.”

She nodded in response and stared at the contract, squinting her eyes to see if there was anything funny about it. If there were any added things about turning her anyway, she was going to be more than disappointed. This girl didn’t care if she was a middle-aged woman, she’d punch the living daylights out of her. “So… I just sign?”

“Yes,” Michelle responded.

“Right there?”

“Yes! Quit wasting time. It’s almost like you don’t want this job with how you’re dilly-dallying…” Upon that remark, Adore kneeled down to find a flat surface to sign. “I can’t believe I took that oath. ‘Give a job to anyone who asks’…” Michelle mocked as she fixed a crooked lampshade and turned on that light. “She should be lucky I’m so nice… Are you done there?” As soon as Adore lifted the pen from the parchment, it flew into Michelle’s hands. “Perfect. So, you’re Adore Delano, yes?”

She nodded her head.

“Lovely name for someone like you.” The witch placed a hand over the paper. The human could only gasp as she saw what happened next. Most of the letters from her signature floated from the paper and into Visage’s open fist. She grasped the letters as a smirk stretched across her name. “From now on, your name is Red… You understand that? That’s easy enough to remember, right? You’re Red now. Answer me, Red!”

The sudden change in tone made Ado- Red jump in her place. “Y-yes ma’am…” For the first time that day, she hesitated. She straightened her posture and held her arms closer together, holding back things she shouldn’t be feeling until a familiar voice made her happier.

“You called for me?” Lask had entered the witch’s quarters seemingly unnoticed. Red wondered how much of the interaction she had seen.

“Yes,” the Grand Witch responded, “this child is starting work as of now. Set her up with a job.”

The other spirit nodded her head, turning to the human with a solemn look on her face. “What’s your name?”

Red quietly gasped. You know me… why are you acting like a narc, lady? She wanted to say that, but she had her life and humanity on the line. “It’s Ad-” She stopped herself mid-sentence. “Red. It’s Red.”

A moment of silence broke between the two old friends… or were they ever friends. “Follow me then.” Lask commanded for the newest hire to follow. They kept the silence as they walked down the halls again.

As they entered the elevator, the silence still continued. The human’s puppy dog eyes brightened. They were alone now! Things could get back to how they were. She then broke the eyes “Lask! I am so fuckin’ happy to se-”

“Don’t talk to me unless it’s something important.” Those words lashed at Red. “And address me as Madame Lask.”

Red refused to say anything more as she slumped along one of the lift’s walls. This ride somehow felt longer than all of the other ones.

#rpdr fanfiction #adore delano #alaska thunderfuck #bianca del rio #michelle visage #adore delaska #supernatural au #spirited away au #lesbian au #a road to somewhere #puppy #tw emotional abuse #concrit welcome

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relationships-world · 3 years

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Relationship rewrite method

https://relationship.healthbrzee.com/

read following points:-1) Unlock His Love with The Power of Conversational Storywhen does he think of you? When your name pops up on your man's phone, what do you think goes through his head? Is he excited to talk to you? Does he feel compelled to respond right away? Does he read your texts but then leave you waiting for a response until most of the day has passed? Or does he completely ignore the messages? The truth is, A LOT is going on in his mind when it comes to you. Memories, emotions, anticipation of the future (is this going to be a good interaction or a bad one?)... All these things flash through his mind in the blink of an eye. And his response (or lack thereof) is more of a gut feeling than a well thought out decision. The same is true when it comes to how he views your relationship in general. If you're having a hard time getting through to him, chances are he feels bad about the relationship. It probably isn't a conscious thing, but a bunch of factors make him instinctively feel like the relationship is more a source of pain than pleasure. We'll get into this more in a minute, but at the end of the day, "pain VS pleasure" is the ONE factor that determines whether he wants to be with you or not. In other words, if he has a gut feeling that your relationship is a source of pain, then no amount of logic, convincing, or begging will change his mind. His mind is already made up--from the inside out. We need to change that. We need to make him instinctively feel drawn to the pleasure of a relationship with you. If you can accomplish that ONE thing, he will be the one chasing you. So let me show you how I've helped women all over the world pull it off. watchvideo presentation2) The Movie Trailer Method.Your mind is an anticipation machine. The human brain is marvellous and complex, but its most amazing feature is its ability to experience the future before it arrives. In fact, getting what you want in life really comes down to one simple thing: The ability to see the future in your mind's eye before it actually happens. This skill, above all else, separates those who get what they want in life from those who don't. Why is this skill so important? The answer is simple. The more detailed your mental map of the future, the easier it is to see which paths to take to reach the outcomes you desire. The more detailed your mental map, the more powerful you become. Like a master chess player, you can anticipate traps and sidestep them before they fully form. You can also try out dozens of moves in your mind's eye before choosing the best one. But I'm talking about real life, not a game. People who learn to use this skill live charmed lives. Everything just seems to unfold in their favour. Is it luck? Is it magic? No. It's simply an enhanced ability to play out various possibilities in the mind's eye and recognize the choices that will bring the most pleasure and the least pain. But here's the tricky part. Seeing the future is not like skipping ahead to the last page of a book to see how the story ends. Your future is not a single, linear path. Rather, there are a hundred different ways your future could unfold. Changing just one variable in your life can have a cascading effect on every other variable. Things can get confusing fast. It's hard to anticipate how all the different variables will interact. Fortunately, I have a solution. It's like a shortcut that gives you most of the benefits without the headache of trying to anticipate how every little thing will interact. What is this solution? It's knowing which variables to focus on. Knowing where to focus your attention is the key to getting more of what you want in life. When it comes to relationships, there's one variable I want you to focus on. I want you to become an expert at noticing this one variable. And I want you to learn how to manipulate this variable so you can have the relationship you want. Ready? Okay, here it is: I want you to become an expert at triggering the right kind of mental movie trailers other people have playing in their heads. We are all running mini-movies of the future in our mind. People do it automatically all the time. They don't practice the skill intentionally. They even take it for granted. Most never bother to question the super quick movie trailers that pop in and out of their thoughts all day long. That's good news for you! Because it gives you a tremendous advantage when trying to change the way someone feels about you. The fact is, no one's in the director's chair. No one is controlling the mini-movies that blip in and out of your man's mind. Since no one is directing this movie, you can waltz onto the set and change the storyline. And you can do this anytime you want. Why These Mini-Mental Movies Matter So Much Have you ever received a social invitation and immediately decided you have no desire to attend? How does that happen? How is it that you instantly know you don't want to go? Simple. In a fraction of a second, you played a mini-mental movie of the entire experience. Actually, that's not quite right. It wasn't the "entire experience". In reality, it was more like a movie preview. Just little clips showing the highlights. And like a good movie trailer, each clip pulled at your emotions. You saw a super-speed version of what it would be like to accept the invitation. You pictured yourself feeling bored. You picture yourself walking back to your car when it was over, wishing you had spent your free time doing something else. Your mind created a mini-movie to help you make a decision. It happened lightning-fast, and mostly outside your consciousness. But you were left with a distinct FEELING that turned you off to the idea. Your mind is remarkably good at this. It's the process by which we decide what we want. If you are a person who struggles with anxiety, you may not love this feature of your mind. You may prefer to be more like a cat who is blissfully at peace with the present moment, not concerned about things to come next year, next month, or even tomorrow. Neuroscientists who study the concept of memory tell us the marvellous ways our minds encode, store, and retrieve life experiences. As we learn, we generate increasingly complex and accurate models of the future. You could say the purpose of our memory is to allow us to predict the future. If I remember that chocolate cake tastes better when it's moist, my brain anticipates a better experience when I choose to eat it now rather than letting it grow stale. However, if I remember that chocolate cake is my weakness, I may cut the serving in half and put the other half out of sight to remove the temptation, using better judgment for my health. If a large dog chased me on my way home from school as a child, I may still anticipate negative emotions from the idea of approaching a large dog even twenty years later. Here's my point. Memories give us the ability to anticipate what is coming next: pleasure or pain. You may not see where this is going yet but stick with me. These concepts are critical to understanding. They are simple concepts, but things I need to remind you of, to "activate" your mind so they will be fresh concepts as we dive into the foundational methods of this course. 3) Human MotivationHumans are motivated by many things. But almost all motivation comes down to either the pursuit of pleasure or the avoidance of pain. Your ex's decisions are no different. He is motivated the same way. But how does he know which decisions to make to pursue pleasure and avoid pain? Memory. His memory creates the movie trailers he uses to "see" the future. His brain is an anticipation machine. It is automatically making judgments about what he should do next to avoid pain and pursue pleasure. The reality of your current situation is that the movie trailers his mind is playing are showing him potential pain or a lack of pleasure in being with you. We've got to change that! Now for some good news and some bad news. Bad news first: We cannot go back in time and change his memories. But the good news: We can alter his feelings about the future without changing memories from the past. Certain trigger points cause people to re-evaluate old memories in a new light. Basically, we're going to change the theme of the mini-movies in his head that affect his feelings about your relationship. We're going to change the soundtrack. Change the lighting. Selectively choose clips that highlight the fun, the exciting adventure he could have if he chooses to make you the most important person in his future. Allow me to provide a few examples to get us on the same page. We are talking about "aha" moments that change his perspective. The memories have not changed, but the way he SEES them can change dramatically. Here's an example from my own experience: I was once hired as a consultant for a company that provided relationship advice. The owners of the company were highly complimentary of me. During our work together, my self-esteem began to inflate considerably because of their frequent recognition of my "unusual talent." It was nearly six months later when I discovered their long-term plan to sell me their entire business (at a highly inflated price). This dramatically shifted my perspective! Suddenly, I replayed all the discussions about my talents for running such a business. At the time, I had been surprised they would admit I could run the business as well - if not better - than they could. Now, looking back, I see the ego-stroking as false flattery designed to make me want to buy their business. That eye-opening moment changed my view on our relationship and the game I was involved in.4) True Actions and IntentionsI'll offer another example. Jane Austen's novel "Pride and Prejudice," (which has been made into multiple movies over the years) tells the tale of Elizabeth, a young woman who can barely stand the sight of Mr Darcy. Throughout the story, Elizabeth is under the impression that Mr Darcy is proud and selfish. This is based on several reliable things she had seen and heard. However, at the end of the story, Elizabeth discovers she was wrong. She had misunderstood the actions and intentions of Mr Darcy. Suddenly, she recognizes his true valour and goodness. She sees that he is more interested in the well-being of others than his own reputation. In the end, it wasn't Elizabeth's memories that changed. It was her understanding that changed. It shifted in a way that caused her to anticipate great pleasure from being with Mr Darcy in an intimate relationship. And of course, they lived happily ever after as a married couple. 5) Your Mission, Should You Choose To Accept It: Your mission is to tamper with the anticipation machine running in your ex's mind. Specifically, your mission is to change the mini-movies that play in his mind when he thinks about spending time with you. You're going to get those mental trailers to work in your favour. There is no other way. You have no chance of restoring your relationship unless he seeks a relationship with you as a path toward pleasure, absent from any level of pain that would cancel out that pleasure. Fortunately, The Relationship Rewrite Method was designed as an answer to this complicated problem. This system helps you find a way to be the leading lady in your life. To convince your ex - not only to let you play a part but also to make you his star. You see, a memory is just a form of anticipation based on past experience. Most people think of memory in the form of stories to be remembered and shared. That is what psychologists call "declarative memory." But there is another kind of memory called "implicit memory." Implicit memory is the kind you use when you get on a bicycle and instinctively recognize (or remember) how to balance. Implicit memory is not something you can put into words. You just know how to ride a bicycle. Declarative memory can be transferred to another person in the form of a story. But you can't transfer the implicit memory for how to balance on a bike. In other words, your ex can tell his friends, "First she did this, then I said that and then we got into a big fight." That's declarative memory. Implicit memory cannot be transferred using words. He cannot transfer the memory of what it feels like to kiss you. Your job is to change the implicit feel of the mini-mental movies that automatically play when he glances down at his phone and sees your name. We have to start small and gradually rebuild his gut-level emotional reactions to you. It's possible that seeing your number come up on his cell phone causes an instant twinge of anger mixed with fear and regret. Those are implicit memories triggering the wrong kind of response. The fights or strained relationship that led to your breakup may still dominate the mental movie that plays in his mind when he considers picking up the phone to talk with you. We need to change that mental trailer so your name brings the same excited anticipation Hollywood tries to create with a really cool movie preview. We're going to rewire his expectations and help him see a new future with you. By the way, are you enjoying this free report so far? If so, you would love my relationship course. It has laser-targeted advice in a 6-step formula to win back the affections of your ex and make him yours for good.Use the Power of Story to Touch His Emotions"Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness." ~ Chinese proverb 6) The human brain is wired for story. Lisa Cron, a highly-acclaimed writer, wrote an entire book on the subject. Hailed as a "story guru," Cron has explored the brain science behind the power of stories. She teaches other writers how to hook the human mind from the very first sentence. There is something special about how a story causes the human mind to pay attention. Cron proposes that from the earliest times, humans have transferred information primarily through a story. Stories are so memorable they can be used to transfer wisdom and knowledge from one generation to the next. Stories prevent humans from making the same mistakes as those who came before them. Stories also shed light on the way humans persevere and succeed in various circumstances. Perhaps the most powerful way a story can be used is as a tool for changing someone's opinion. Stories don't require effort to pay attention. Our minds are designed for stories. We naturally focus when someone transfers information to us in the narrative form. In Paul Smith's book, "Lead with a Story," he makes the case that business leaders can "captivate, convince, and inspire" using stories in the workplace. Smith relays hundreds of instances about influencing the minds of others by telling a simple story instead of relaying facts and information.7) The Power Of Stories Smith and Croon have recognized the power of stories to transfer knowledge. But here's what I want you to understand. Stories make it easier for you to influence people. They are more effective than trying to convince people with arguments, logic, facts, or begging. I have experienced this firsthand. I once attended a fundraising event for people living in the impoverished nation of Burkina Faso. I was unmoved by the statistics presented on how many children go hungry and how many families lack the basic necessities for good health. Then the presenter told the story of two little girls who had been struggling together to survive the hardship of their lives, I was suddenly hooked. I understood their plight on an emotional level. I immediately cared enough to take out my wallet and sacrifice what I could to help with the relief efforts. Think for a moment about the variables of a court case. Think of all the factors that determine if a defendant will be found guilty or innocent by jurors in a trial. Experts work diligently to narrow down the list of variables to those that will have the most powerful influence on the outcome of the trials. Can you guess the number one factor that influences the jury's final opinion of a defendant? Experts tell us it's not the facts of the case. They say it's not the evidence presented. Rather, it comes down to who tells the most believable story. If jury members can picture themselves in a vivid story and imagine the events unfolding the way the defendant claims they did, they will find the defendant "not guilty." If the prosecuting attorney tells a more convincing story, the defendant will most likely be found "guilty." How can I use this information in my everyday life, you ask? Here's how: we will craft a special kind of story to influence your ex's perspective. Stories evoke emotion and change minds.I want you to tell your ex the story of your relationship in a way that causes him to automatically begin to root for your relationship. Did you ever see The Italian Job, The Saint, or Ocean's Eleven? All these movies are about thieves trying to pull off big-time heists. They are stories about criminals. And yet, as you watch these movies, you begin to root for the criminals to succeed. You want them to get away with the loot and live happily ever after. Doesn't that seem strange to you? Why do we root for thieves to succeed at stealing other people's hard-earned resources? It's because their life experience was presented to us in the form of a story. The protagonist is the hero figure in a plotline - the person about whom the story is written. There can be more than one protagonist in a story, as there is in William Shakespeare's classic story, Romeo and Juliet. In Romeo and Juliet, we root for the relationship of this young couple. Sure, we care about Romeo and we care about Juliet, but the relationship itself becomes as important to us as either character. As you read or watch Romeo and Juliet, do you find yourself wishing they would just forget about each other? Don't you want them to put their own safety first and move on with their lives? After all, if you really cared about Romeo and Juliet, wouldn't you advise them not to put their lives in peril by pursuing the romance further? Of course not. That's not what you root for. (It's not what I root for either!) We want them to be together.9) We root for the relationship! We see the beauty of life unfolding in the way they discover one another, and our hearts want them to be happy. We understand the risks they take to breathe life into the new passion they discovered through love at first sight. Here's the point. By making your relationship itself the hero of the story, you can cause him to root for the relationship. Do you remember Allie and Noah from Nicholas Sparks' novel-turned-movie, The Notebook? The story of their relationship was a powerful tear-jerker. As an 80-year-old man, Noah reads to his wife, Allie. She has developed Alzheimer's and does not remember, yet she roots for the characters in the story of her own life as Noah reads from her journal. The story Noah reads to Allie is powerful. It is so powerful we pay money to participate in this story by going to a heater or purchasing the book. Using the power of story is only one of 6 powerful steps that will help you reconnect with your man, even in the worst situations. Bring him back. Save your relationship. Get the happiness you deserve. Always on your side, James Bauerhttps://relationship.healthbrzee.com/

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gray-anxiety · 5 years

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The Request | Levi X Reader

Not going to lie, I went really overboard with this, but this was a continuation/story adaptation for the HCs I did earlier that was requested. Almost 2,000 words aha.

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“Come on, Levi! Y/N is taking commissions from everyone else! You’re her boyfriend, you should support her too!” Hange had kept repeating the same statement over and over again to Levi, who was quite tired of the crazed scientist and it was only the beginning of the day. Levi clicked his tongue and simply blew on his piping hot tea before drinking the soothing beverage. Hange wasn’t going to take no as an answer, Levi already knew this well before Hange even stepped foot in the room, but it doesn’t mean that Levi can’t ignore her endless riots. Levi’s brows furrowed in thought; he would genuinely like to support his girlfriend for obvious reasons, except there was a problem. Almost every single person important to him either left or died long ago, leaving him with a very minuscule pool of important people left that was growing tinier by the day. Levi’s heart ached at the memories of so many people that he’d lost; though he wouldn’t say nor express it, Levi genuinely cared for those left around him, he simply didn’t know how to, nevertheless thought it was unprofessional to let his guard down. Because of this, Levi decided to just simply admire the work Y/N did for others; he felt too uncomfortable allowing anyone to hear about the memories that he kept under lock and key for only him to relive.

“..vi! Levi! Come on, you should go request something to be drawn!” Levi drew his eyes near the source of the loud, and frankly, annoying sound. Out of the corner of his eyes, he was still greeted by Hange. Levi sighed and set his cup down; little black streams clouded his vision –– his hair was in the way again; it must’ve been unkept for Levi’s standards. Levi started to pay attention to anything aside from Hange; how his crossed legs started to ache, the endless chatter from cadets in the background was loud enough without Hange, and how Y/N was silently drawing from a corner far away from any crowds or noise, but yet still remained in the Dining Hall. Hange somehow managed to get even louder each second Levi didn’t spend paying attention to her unruly ways of begging; it annoyed Levi to no end.

“Fine, Four Eyes, I’ll request something.” Levi scoffed the moment the words left his mouth; Hange started to blush and drool from excitement once again. Levi tuned Hange out the moment she started to blabber again about him requesting Y/N to draw fucking titans. Levi stood up and went to clean his cup out; he wasn’t ready to tell Y/N about his fair share of a horrible past, but he also knew that she wouldn’t ask just as he never asked about her past. The thought of seeing a lost face once more unnerved Levi; he wasn’t ready to describe the person, nevertheless try and explain who they were to Levi. Alas, if it got Hange off his ass then he would gladly do it, or simply just kick her ass to the high heavens above. The day passed by like normal; forcing the cadets to clean the entire HQ top to bottom with no exemptions, yelling at the unfortunate souls that ran past him in the hallways, paperwork, expedition planning, and more grueling paperwork, but even with all of that and so much more; Levi still failed to erase the knawing thought at the back of his head about asking Y/N to draw something –– or someone, for that matter, for him.

Levi sucked in a breath and walked into his office already exhausted, though, he already knew that it was once again going to be another sleepless night for him. Levi turned his head slightly to greet your E/C eyes –– you had been waiting for him again. It was like this almost every night since the beginning of your relationship; you stayed with him until you eventually fell asleep in the corner you occupied. Levi had the decency to place a bench in that corner to keep you off the, in his terms, ‘filthy’ floors. Levi walked over to his desk, once again full of unfinished paperwork Erwin gave him to finish. Levi’s knee popped as soon as he sat down, causing him to let out a tiny growl from under his breath. Your eyes never left his tense form; you knew he had something to inquire you about and was simply trying to avoid it at all costs.

“Levi, please don’t overexert yourself too much, I know you have something on your mind that’s bothering you. If you don’t wish to speak about it, that’s fine, but please don’t let it push you to tackle more work than you already have.” There it was. You could read Levi like a book –– you related too much to him to not know when something was off about his stature. Levi clicked his tongue and kept a blank face when he looked up to you from the sheet of paper in front of him. You raised your eyebrow and gave him the look he knew all too well; he wasn’t going to get out of this.

“Draw me someone.” He finally said it. Y/N simply shook her head and gave Levi a soft smile. She knew he had just as hard of a time asking anyone for anything like she did, but she knew he must want something done involving his past.

“Alright, Levi, who do you want to be drawn?”

“My mother.” Y/N stopped working on the request she had from Eren and immediately flipped to a new page in her sketchbook, prepared to write down every description given to her on the page beside the future page that’d contain the portrait itself. Y/N motioned with her hand for Levi to start describing anything he remembered of his mother, but little did Y/N know, Levi remembered every detail his mother had before she died, leaving him only in one of her old dresses curled up in the corner starved. Levi finally set down the document he had held in his hand and sighed. He really was going to do this. Levi closed his eyes and envisioned his mother like he’d seen her oh so often; tired, pale, and half-starved, but nevertheless beautiful.

“She had the same slit eyes as I have, though, more feminine and delicate looking; thin eyebrows; long, small nose, and a plump bottom lip accompanied with a smaller top lip. She had almost the same exact facial structure I have and had long black hair. Before you ask, yes, she had the same eye-color and pale skin as I have.” Levi kept his eyes closed; he didn’t want to open them knowing that his mother had been gone for years. Y/N cleared her throat and looked over every detail Levi described to her.

“Basically, a more feminine you...?”

“Yeah. Less constipated too.”

Even in the dim candlelight, you began to work, carving out a face from the light, but precise, graphite strokes that eventually made a shell of a face that would soon resemble Levi’s mother. Every once in a while, you’d look up and stare at Levi before looking back down and once again focusing at the drawing at hand. Levi knew you were only staring so you could get a more accurate version of his mother, but he couldn’t help commenting on it being ‘Hange-like’. The two of you worked in silence even in the early hours of the next day, not once stopping to rest nor even think about stopping with the amount of work left to do. Finally, you had finished after a few hours of non-stop work, you only prayed that Levi would deem your work satisfactory, otherwise you would spend the rest of the night redoing the entire thing just to his liking.

“...I’ve finished, Levi.” Levi’s eyes met yours as he lifted a brow. You knew that was his language to show him. You stood up and quietly walked over to Levi’s side, holding the drawing to your chest. You sighed and looked at the wall to your left.

“I’m sorry if you don’t like it; I’ll redo it if you want me to.” You simply said before setting down the portrait in front of Levi. Levi’s eyes widened by a fraction; his normal deadset jaw slackened. He sat there, unmoving until you heard a soft inhale coming from Levi. His, pale, slim fingers gently picked up the portrait and held it in front of him. Levi let go with his right hand to touch the uncanny drawing of his mother. You knew you had done well and smiled softly, slipping out of Levi’s door. But before you did, you heard a soft, almost inaudible ‘thank you, Y/N.’ come from Levi. You gently shut the door behind you and went off to take a shower; you knew you were indefinitely going to be exhausted for training in less than a few hours, but it was well worth it knowing Levi had a reminder of his mother by his side now. Before you went to Levi’s unoccupied room the two of you shared, you went back to his office to check on him one last time. Though, you were greeted by a sight you’d never forget; a sleeping Levi in his chair, hugging the portrait of his mother by his chest.

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pinehurst · 4 years

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Unwrapping the Fourth Episode

It’s safe to say that the fourth episode absolutely destroyed the internet. Fugou Keiji was trending on Tumblr and Twitter in many countries with many others out of the loop asking, “Where exactly can I watch this anime?” This surge in popularity makes sense though as this episode had it all: the boys in casual clothes, hair down Daisuke, drunk Haru, and some quality bonding. Score one for the fangirls.

Disclaimer: This discusses the fourth episode as well as my thoughts on how the show may progress. My theories and beliefs are reminiscent of the only four episodes out at the moment so this may not be the most accurate thing out there.

Disclaimer #2: The way that I set up the entire review is more of a “live commentary” but I do offer my thoughts throughout so please bear with my rambling.

When the official Fugou Keiji team teased the fourth episode on their Twitter, I was speechless to say the least. Right off the bat, it was obvious that this episode would be much more lighthearted and relaxed than the previous episodes: Daisuke trying to survive day-to-day life without his life source? Let’s see this millionaire try to last in our shoes. This anime has a record of unveiling new information every episode, so I was interested to see how the story would progress.

The episode opens up dramatically with Suzue running after Daisuke as he storms out of the mansion. In fact, he’s so irritated that he leaves without HEUSC or his money. Ok two things. First of all, Daisuke’s unforeseen emo side is showing. What could possibly make him want to leave that suddenly that he forgets the two things that practically define him? Secondly, Suzue addressed our beloved millionaire as “Daisuke-sama.” Wait, what? Being unfamiliar with Japanese culture, I decided to do a quick Google search as to when the honorific “-sama” is used. Wikipedia noted the following:

Sama (様、さま) is a more respectful version for people of a higher rank than oneself or divine, toward one's guests or customers (such as a sports venue announcer addressing members of the audience), and sometimes toward people one greatly admires.

At this point, it’s still unclear as to whether or not Daisuke and Suzue are siblings or spouses; however, it is now known that, whatever their relationship may be, Suzue holds Daisuke to a higher regard. Only three seconds have passed, no need to rush. The remainder of the episode must contain answers.

After the opening comes to a close, Haru asks Daisuke for some help with a lost dog as he hopes to use his “magic” to trace the dog’s path. Immediately afterward though, Haru affirms that “it’s not like [he] absolutely needs [Daisuke’s] help.” It’s pretty clear from this one sentence that Haru doesn’t want to seem inferior to Daisuke. Even when asking for assistance, he doesn’t want to lower himself just to get Daisuke’s help. After all, he needs to assert that he’s got the better philosophy out of the two.

This call does, however, represent the growth in their relationship that we ever so hoped for. The fact that Haru called Daisuke at all showcases two things. First of all, it reinforces that fact that Haru’s morals and humanistic mindset dictate his actions. He not only helped a child in his spare time (which I’m sure many people wouldn’t do) but also called his coworker (that rich boy with completely different morals) for help with assisting a troubled child. It also emphasizes something much more important for the upcoming epiosdes though: Haru is beginning to trust Daisuke more. Episode 3 already helped lay the foundation for their acquaintanceship (soon to be friendship), and this episode only works to add onto that footing. He knows that Daisuke has the resources to help others; in this sense, it may seem as though Haru is only exploiting Daisuke for the greater good, but that doesn’t lessen the fact that he feels comfortable enough to even think of Daisuke as an option.

Once again though, Daisuke and Haru’s views clash when dealing with this child. Haru is determined to help this poor child whereas Daisuke blatantly states that “looking for a dog isn’t a police officer’s job.” This entire situation did teach us a little bit more about Daisuke’s personality though. He’s easily swayed by a child’s tears as he reluctantly agreed to help once the child wept crocodile tears of grief. Even though he is generally unconcerned, anyone would feel guilty leaving a poor child alone. As Haru put it, “[he’s] a human being after all.”

We also learn that Daisuke likes to do his work swiftly and quickly if the past episodes didn’t already emphasize that. He interrupted the child, who we learn is named Tsuyoshi Nomura, asking him where his house is located. The entire time it’s clear that Daisuke oh-so-dearly wants to finish up this business. He even convinced the child that the dog returned home, indifferent to whether or not that may be true. When Haru called him out, Daisuke smirked, “That has nothing to do with me.” Even if he feels guilty, that doesn’t mean he should waste his precious energy trying to help find a lost dog. He may even regard it as trivial.

The episode cuts back to Suzue as we see another side to her that the previous episodes failed to display: her obsesssion with Daisuke. I know what some of you may be thinking, and yes at first I thought that “obsessed” was too strong of a word too. The exact definition of obsessed is to “preoccupy or fill the mind of (someone) continually, intrusively, and to a troubling extent.” Nevermind, Suzue definitely fits this definition. She scattered messages all throughout town, watching Daisuke’s every move. My favorite message of all though was the one in front of the grocery store: “I am eagerly waiting for your return.” Emphasis on the eagerly. That gave me a good laugh; she is so devoted to Daisuke to the extent that she’d give up sleep just to ensure his wellbeing.

Suzue, however, did give us an insider’s look at Daisuke’s life. The fact that she was in utter dismay when she found out that Daisuke left his precious wallet behind goes to show that Daisuke depends on his money to indulge in his everyday activities. Even though we already knew that, Suzue’s reaction really put emphasis on the fact that this was going to be a new and maybe even tough experience for Daisuke to endure. He is pampered by his family, with Suzue worrying about trivial things such as the fact that maybe he “didn’t like the patterns on his shirt”or that she “upgraded his shoes from +5 centimeters to +7 centimeters.” The fact that that put a dent in their relationship made it all the better since it just goes to show that Daisuke is so conditioned to having everything done for him that a sudden shift in behavior wrecks havoc.

It shifts back to Haru and Daisuke shopping, something that I never realized I needed until now. Daisuke’s spoiled side shows once more as he questions why Haru doesn’t just let others do the shopping for him. Running errands? Pathetic. Let someone else do them for you.

Now this is where the million dollar question is answered: what exactly is Suzue to Daisuke? After being questioned by Haru, it’s finally revealed that Suzue is, in fact, Daisuke’s relative. This is where fifty questions popped into my mind, all of them being “Huh?” Suzue is clearly devoted to him on an incomprehensible level, but to be a relative? After much thought and a quick scroll through the Discord servers, someone mentioned a website that got my attention. One website, Nakasendoway, stated the following:

“A main or stem family might have affiliated to it branch families. Each branch family at some time might itself, while maintaining its subordinate position to the main family, become the stem family to several branches. Thus, a well-established, well-organized, and rich family could become extremely large.”

Aha! Now this is something I can get behind! This would explain her sincere devotion to Daisuke and why she referred to him as “-sama.” This doesn’t, however, really explain why Daisuke is holding her in the opening with such passion. Or maybe it does explain everything and I’m just not processing it correctly. I mean it is midnight at the time that I’m writing this and maybe I just need some sleep. Nevertheless I believe that there’s still more depth to Daisuke and Suzue’s relationship that hasn’t been explained yet. Maybe it’ll be explained in the future episodes in the midst of some event that reminds Daisuke of his backstory (that was briefly mentioned at the beginning of episode 1).

Anywho, back to the episode. Daisuke stays over Haru’s house, where he is shocked by the lack of grandeur. That apartment is where he lives? Not some grand mansion? Wild. Ah the adventures that occurred in that tiny apartment sure were grand though. We are once again reminded of Daisuke’s lavish life when he accidentally cuts himself. He immediately requests for a first-aid kit and when Haru makes the grand reveal that he doesn’t actually have one, Daisuke is forced to almost lower his standards. How is he going to heal himself? Why, he’s going to lick his cut! He is away from the comfort of his home so he must accommodate to his needs by doing going through the “harder,” more economical approach. He is finally starting to have a taste of the real world, outside the comfort of his own home.

After this scene is the moment we all have been waiting for: hair-down Daisuke with an oversized hoodie. All I can say is yes. Daisuke once again rediscovers his love for commoner’s food as he chowed on Haru’s recipes. This was wonderful bonding between the two as Haru tried to satisfy Daisuke’s wealthy plate and even taught him a few recipes. The two even watched a show together. Now this is where I believe foreshadowing will take its course.

The show that they’re watching follows a humanistic detective (with attire similar to Haru’s) arguing with his boss (whose attire is similar to Daisuke’s). The detective insists that they act on some case without affirmation from the higher-ups, but his superior refuses to budge. Later on, it’s revealed that this boss dies from a gunshot. Now I theorize that something similar will happen between Haru and Daisuke. Besides the similar attire between the two, the opening also shows Daisuke disappearing before a gun’s line of sight. Maybe this disappearance symbolizes that Daisuke may get shot or even suffer from severe injuries in the later episodes. Whatever it may be, I doubt any of the (relevant) characters will die since they play important roles and I just don’t see Fugou Keiji as the type of anime to do so (now this is obviously subjective but it’s just my opinion).

We are also let into Haru’s internal struggle: the difficulty of balancing their roles as heroes and civil servants. This practically relates to his philosophy as he would do anything to save anyone, carrying heroic acts of kindness and service. He is definitely the type to disobey orders in the name of justice, but in doing so he would be tarnishing his reputation as a civil servant. He wouldn’t be doing as his job wishes, and wouldn’t that be a crime in itself? Not doing what your superiors, who supposedly know better, and all.

Haru and Daisuke part ways after the night together comes to a close. Haru’s off helping that child find his lost dog while Daisuke is out doing whatever he must. All hope is lost when Haru and the child just can’t seem to find the dog. But surprise! Acting as a beacon of hope, a light that came amidst darkness, Daisuke appears holding a dog leash with a dog attached to it! Oh how the tables have turned. Daisuke now decided to help find the dog. It became his obligation to find the dog now. Maybe Haru used his own magic and caused Daisuke to have a change in mindset over night. Maybe he finally came to realize that it’s worth the trouble to help others. Or maybe he had nothing better to do and decided to do his job without his display of wealth. No matter the reason, Daisuke still helped out. He still did what he didn’t want to do in the beginning of the episode. Ah how we love a change in mindset.

Daisuke finally returns home after two eventful days. The first thing he does when he returns? He recreates the “Kato family recipe” for Suzue, and he is very clearly satisfied with the result. After spending the night together, Haru served Daisuke natto for breakfast (love the recurring theme here) in the form of some sacred family meal. Daisuke replicated this recipe for his family WITH the natto. Oh how we love character development! He concluded by saying something along the lines of “It’s called the Devil’s Natto Recipe.” I found it kind of cute how he referred to Haru as a devil considering it was his recipe. It really shows that they still recognize their differences despite becoming closer over time. It’s safe to say operation friendship was a success as the episode comes to a close.

In my opinion, this episode’s sole purpose, besides showing us their lives away from work, was to help Daisuke get out of his little bubble as he was exposed to the real world. He no longer had Suzue’s welcoming warmth nor the unlimited wealth that his wallet provided. Rather, he was put in a situation where he had no money and was thrown into the “working class” for the first time ever. He would have had to scrap by if it weren’t for Haru. Heck, Haru paved the way for Daisuke’s character development as he taught him how to make inexpensive recipes and save money.

However, this episode also raised the question: “Is Suzue going to merely be a comic relief character?” This episode really just utilized Suzue for the laughs as she’s presented as a character who’s overly worried about her dear relative. Personally I view this episode as a much more lighthearted one so of course Suzue would be much more exaggerated. At the same time, it introduced her devotion for Daisuke, unveiling an important plot point. This may make it less shocking if she does end up putting her life at risk for Daisuke’s sake. This certainly explains why she didn’t mind trying to swoon the smuggler in the second episode. Nevertheless I believe that she will be of utmost importance in the future, helping to turn the gears of story development through her gadgets. Her sincere devotion to Daisuke will most likely still serve as comic relief, but it won’t undermine her other characteristics.

As for how the series will progress, personally I believe that the future episodes will have more of an overarching plot and follow a more serious storyline, as we still need to see Daisuke and Haru confront the struggles fettering them down. It seems as though the anime wants to first develop a solid relationship between the two main protagonists before any sort of angst occurs.

Edit: The Fugou Keiji team confirmed in a commentary article that things went downhill between Daisuke and Suzue because of the shoes. Love that!

#Daisuke: Into the Kageyama-verse #we better get slicked hair Haru next #fugou keiji #the millionaire detective #balance unlimited #fkbul #fugou keiji balance: unlimited #fkbu

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sevenseasofrog · 6 years

Text

Lads ‘n Lasses

pairing: highschool!ben x fem!reader

summary: single sex schools are never boring

word count: 2982

a/n: wagwan gs, this might not be to everyone’s taste but i’ll see how it goes, this is the first time i’ve imagined myself as the reader while writing ?? not as someone else reading it ?? it’s also set in a manchesterish sort of place bc i had a major mind block trying to write about anywhere else other than where i actually live ,, that probably sounds weird idk aha, it’s defo an au where ben basically is still in education and all sorts of chaos takes place as the year moves forward ,, anyway ,, enjoy !! if you have any questions or likewise feel free to send an ask bc i see how it could be semi confusing ,, love u all a lotta :) ❤️

here’s also some stuff that could make it less confusing (especially if you’re not familiar with lingo from north west england, i’ll maybe add to this with each new chapter that comes out :)

St. Mary’s/ Mary’s- the all girls school the reader attends, quite middle class and full of students who like to make drama for their own entertainment, strong focus on languages and arts

St. Peter’s/ St. Pete’s - the all boys ‘brother’ school to St. Mary’s, very laddish with a focus on sports and science

Niamh & Maria - the reader’s two closest and longest friends

Tram/Met - British version of an overground subway?

Shout - another word for a houseparty

Snide - unfair

Swear down - saying you are telling the truth

also, the reader and ben are between the ages of like 17 and 18ish, the whole thing isn’t very accurate to the uk school system but it works a little better like that so yall are gonna have to go with it aha

ps, this chapter is spilt in two bc i got very carried away when writing it and tumblr has a word limit, hmph. however, that does technically mean that i can say i’ve written two chapters not just one ?? go me !!

Chapter 1: September

4th of September, the night before a new term, new academic year and a nearly fresh start. Your last year at St Mary’s had not been something you were dreading so to speak, and now it was finally here. Thanks to upcoming exams, you only had a little over five months to get through before freedom, and eventually, a completely clean slate at a new, far less intimidating school environment. Anticipation building, you called it a night

6:15am. You woke up to the painful sound of your alarm clock, early morning sun peeking through the split between the curtains. Eager to silence the blaring noise you crawled out of the comfort of the duvet and hastily clicked the stop button in the centre of your phone screen. You made your way into the bathroom, careful not to wake your parents, brushed your teeth and quickly got undressed before stepping into the shower, letting the cool water run down your back without getting your hair wet, since you had it cut and washed yesterday afternoon. Slipping on your school uniform you caught eye of yourself in the mirror and decided that you had nothing to lose by putting on a little makeup, you had time after all. It was about 7am when you made your way downstairs, the house still quiet with only you awake. These mornings were the ones you liked best, just you and your own thoughts, with no one to bother you other than the dogs. It was still relatively warm during the September days so you chose to leave your jumper hung over a chair in the kitchen, putting just your blazer over your crisp, white blouse. Throwing an apple and cereal bar into your bag for later in the day, you figured that you might as well also pack some paracetamol and chewing gum for good measure, knowing it would come in handy eventually. You headed into the hallway to sit on the bottom step of the stairs to put your shoes on, tying the laces as tight as you possibly could, slung the black tote over your shoulder and grabbed your set of keys, which were usually on a hook which your dad had attached to the wall earlier in the year.

The walk to the tram stop was pleasant enough. There was no real breeze and you walked with your hands in you pockets to the beat of the music. Skipping down the steps to the platform to buy a ticket for the week, the change rattled in your pocket, and you had to cover it to stop anything flying out. Once you had finally managed to get the machine to produce a ticket after it spat out the coins you tried to use a few times, you spun round and walked towards the sheltered seats down the further end of the stop. It was only 7:45 by this stage and there were still very few people around. Missing the school rush was certainly worth it for you, and it also meant there was time to grab a coffee on the way to school with Niamh and Maria, who both got on at later stops anyway. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, deciding to text your parents, as you did every morning to let them know you were okay. You skipped a few songs before slipping your phone back into your pocket and looking up to examine your surroundings, following a good few weeks of not coming to the somewhat grimy metro stop, nothing had changed. The ground was still caked in chewing gum, graffiti littered the ticket machines, and the bin was, as ever, overflowing.

There was one thing different though, slightly odd too. A blonde haired boy who you had never seen before was stood on the opposite platform. Weird. It was then that you noticed he was in the uniform for St. Peter’s, with a backpack hung on one shoulder and a gym bag on the floor- grim move from the newbie. It suddenly hit you however. He was on the wrong platform, and could end up getting on a tram further into the city centre rather than away from it. God, this was awkward. You could leave him? it would be kind of funny? but also a bit snide.

No.

Don’t do that you told yourself. Deciding to ‘start the new term right’ you cleared your throat before shouting across

“You going to St. Pete’s mate?”

He looked up from the ground, obviously somewhat confused, checking to see whoever the person who had shouted was talking too. Luckily, this was quite easy, given that he then noticed that he was in fact the only person on the platform. You gave a wave and as friendly a smile as you could muster given it wasn’t even 8 o’clock yet, in a desperate attempt to get his attention, which just so happened to work.

“Um, yeah. Why?”

“Because given that you’re on the wrong platform, you’re gonna have a very hard time getting there”. His jaw dropped a little

“You are joking, right?”

“Nope!”, you popped the ‘p’, just for emphasis, “So... are you just gonna stand there like a lemon or change platforms then?”. He quickly picked his bag off the ground and jogged up the steps to the bridge. As he crossed you rolled the waistband of your skirt up, realising that you previously looked a little to nun-ish for your liking. By the time you had finished fixing up your appearance the mysterious blonde was plodding down the steps, towards you. Shit. Now what?

You had just about composed yourself by the time he reached you.

“Ben. Ben Jones” he spoke, before offering his hand to shake.

“You’re very proper aren’t you!?”, you thought out loud “guessing you're not from up here then hm? Name’s y/n l/n by the way, I go to St. Mary’s”, you said, trying to remain friendly.

“Yeah, moved up from Bournemouth at the start of summer. My parents wanted to come up here so I had a chance of getting some sort of sports scholarship or something for rugby, y’know, for uni and that”. He spoke with quite a low, quiet voice, but definitely had a southern accent that you couldn’t imagine going any time soon. Now he was stood nearer, you had managed to get a clearer picture of Ben; he was very well built and had the physique of a genuine sportsman, He wasn’t too tall- but still taller than you by a considerable amount. His facial features were mostly soft, although his nose looked like it could have been broken in past games and he had the most striking green eyes.

“Well, you’d have had a pretty difficult time getting anywhere if you were stuck in the centre of town.” you both let out a laugh.

“Honestly, I’m such a melt, only I could do that on one of the few days that being on time actually matters”. You broke eye contact momentarily to see that a tram was approaching.

“Right then” you said, stepping towards the edge of the platform. “We’re a bit early but I normally get a coffee anyway, you can come if you want? I mean, you don’t have to get this one if you don’t want but if you do then the offer’s there..” You trailed off, noticing that you had waffled on a bit.

“Aha, no it’s fine! I’d be happy to get this one, you’re literally the first person I’ve spoken to who’s like, my age so it’s not like I have anyone to wait for. Plus, I’ll probably get lost if you abandon me now.” He looked up with puppy dog eyes after picking his gym bag off the floor again.

Stepping on the tram, you decided to offer him your first piece of valuable advice; “Right… Well. If we’re gonna be mates I better give you the rules of the road up here”.

“Go on then, local expert”, he said with a smirk.

“First things first. Don’t put your bag on the floor. It’s crusty and makes you look like a gimp”.

“Noted”, he spoke as the pair of you sat on the grey seats.

“Second. Most of the boys are maniacs and the girls are awful bitches, I’d say that I’d help you figure out who’s who but you’ll probably be able to decide for yourself”.

“Hm, you’re really selling it to me. The brutal honesty is a nice touch”. You gave a playful punch to the side of his arm, with a grin smeared across your face.

“Swear down mate, you’ll thank me later for this though.”

The journey passed in a flash, the pair of you talking like friends reunited. You learnt that he had a beagle named Frankie, lived not too far from you, he played rugby for teams but also enjoyed drama and music.

“You’re quite the character aren’t you! can’t say I took you for a performing arts kinda guy”

“Well… What kind of person did you take me as then, all knowing-y/n”

“Well Ben from Bournemouth.. that would be telling wouldn’t it, I can tell you however that this is our stop though”. You both stood up, grabbing your bags and heading for the doors of the carriage. You had a text from Niamh and Maria earlier on in the journey saying they’d be late and there was no point waiting for them, so you carried on the walk alone with Ben.

“If I left you here right now, would you have any clue where to go?” you questioned, genuinely intrigued.

“Erm.. no… I would have to stand around for a bit and hope someone takes pity on me”

“What about google maps though??”

“Hmm.. Let’s just say that there’s a reason I don’t take geography”

The coffee shop was about the same distance from the tram stop as is was from school, and it was about 20 past 8 when you pushed open the door with a small chime. It was a cosy little café, situated on the corner of the market street with wicker chairs outside and brown leather sofas inside. You never stayed in however, much preferring to enjoy whatever you brought during the rest of the walk to school. Today was a latte day, no questions asked. You liked to rotate throughout a few different drinks, depending on your mood. Ben stood close by as you explained how you’d most definitely be on black coffee by this time next week, but you might have the odd pumpkin spiced latte as September moved into October, just for novelty really. He gave out a small chuckle,

“You really are in a league of your own aren’t you? I’ve known you like an hour and I’m convinced you hold the secrets of the universe or some shit”. You liked Ben. He was good company and you had a fair bit in common;

“and what if I did hold the secrets of the universe huh?”

“I’d use the black market to sell you to a looney philosopher somewhere or other and make myself some fat stacks.” You both doubled over in complete hysterics. Would it be weird to say that you’d never bonded so quickly with someone? yeah, probably you thought, brushing the idea away quickly. Your giggle fit was quickly broken up however when the barista announced that your drink was ready, you fished the loose change out of your pocket and handed it over moments later,

“keep the change mate” you said politely, turning on your heel towards the door once again.

“You really are quite the angel aren’t you?” the boy walking next to you said “ooooo, keep the change mate, I’m y/n and I am the source of all life and joy” he mocked.

“You know it blondie”, you retorted with a smirk.

You had walked a fair deal further, now following the main road and considerably nearer to school when Ben reached into his inside pocket .pulling out a cigarette and lighter. You silently watched out of the corner of your eye as he held the stick in his mouth and lit one end, he inhaled deeply before taking it from between his lips to exhale. Before his could bring his hand back up however, you plucked it from his fingers and drew a breath from it yourself before throwing it down and stamping on it. Ben simply stood with his mouth hung open looking dumbfounded. “Whoa steady on...What the fuck was that about then? Oh… and for the record, you owe me a cig now!”, he spoke with a tone of shock mixed with annoyance

“Boo-Hoo”, you spoke back, “But neither of us can have a first day back if we get excluded before we even get to school you dimwit. There’s teachers stood by the traffic lights down there”, you pointed further down the pavement. “See for yourself if you want…” you trailed off. Ben looked a little guilty, realising that he could have got you both in a good deal of trouble,

“Ah, Right, Okay… Sorry about that..”

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly. It’s fine, you’re new! You’ve got a lot to learn still”, you gave him a reassuring smile, but you could tell that he still felt a twinge of regret.

The pair of you carried on the walk in a comfortable silence, and as you approached St. Peter’s a thought struck you. “Right. After school, wait for me here, I don’t really want you being lost in a new town stuck on my conscience all night”

“How noble of you, Miss y/l/n! How will I ever repay you for this selfless act of charity!” He exaggerated, running his hands through his hair as he spoke.

“We’ll have to see about that one won’t we, I guess”, You hitched your bag back onto your shoulder properly. Before he turned into the courtyard of his new school he grabbed your arm,

“Wait a minute... you give off way too much chaotic energy for things to run smoothly. What’s your snap or your number or something incase something goes horribly wrong” He spoke again, with a slight twinkle in his eyes.

“Hm, go on then, I’ll give you my number then you can just add me on snapchat with it too if you really want. Two birds with one stone ‘n all that”, you reached into your bag and pulled out a pen. “Gimmie something to write on, chop chop matey!” you spoke hurridley, realising that you only had 10 minutes before you needed to be sat down in your first registration of the academic year. In a panic, he stuck out his hand, and you began to scribble down the first few digits.

“Fucking hell! I thought you were writing it down not tattooing it!”, he took in a sharp breath.

“Hm.. What.. Wait! Shit, sorry.. I’m a bit heavy handed”. You finished writing the numbers down with a conscious attempt not to press quite so hard and then threw the pen back into your bag.

“Aight then, I’ll see you later yeah?” He looked up at you,

“See ya later lemon boy”. You shot another smile before continuing on a few meters further down the path and approached the gates of St. Mary’s.

Hello old friend, you thought before taking a deep breath and turning into the school, with no way out for the next few hours at least. You stepped hurriedly through the labyrinth of corridors before reaching the room where you’d be registered. Throwing your bag onto your usual desk you could feel two sets of eyes on you.

“y/n l/n, You have some explaining to do! go on then, who’s the boy?” Niamh began, a devilish grin on her face.

“Gimme a second to sort my life out yeah? I just need to get my bearings then you can interrogate me”, you spoke, followed by a heavy sigh. After you put your bag in your new locker you returned to the desk where you were greeted by your long time friends once again. “Wait a minute, how do you even know? started hiring government spies or some shit?”

“Erm, no. But that’s quite a good idea actually. If you’re that desperate to know, Lewis sent me a message asking if you’d got a boyfriend over summer..” You let out a scoff before Maria could continue. “He still really likes you ya know?”

“Yes mum, I do know, you remind me most days” You all let out a laugh, attracting some attention from the neighboring tables.

“We’re off topic, you still need to explain yourself and we have like, 3 minutes until the bell goes” Niamh interrupted, she had always been the most conscious member of the group, as much as both you and Maria hated to admit.

“Right, I’ll keep it simple. I was at the met stop and he was stood on the wrong side so I told him to switch otherwise he’d never make it to school then he told me that his name’s Ben and he’s new and he’s in our year and then we got on the tram and then we went to get coffee then he decided he wanted a smoke and then I told him off and then we got to school and then I told him I’d meet him after school then I walked into school and now I’m here with you two” You barely paused for breath and gasped before either of your friends could continue, both of them looking shocked and rather confused.

“Right. You can explain that all again later in a bit only at least 76 times slower. ok? thanks? nice” is all Maria managed to respond before the door swung open and your teacher walked in...

Hope you enjoy !!❤️

Let me know if you want adding to the taglist !! :)

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scarletrebel · 6 years

Text

so i really really really want to examine the invitations of the nine every week in correspondence with the tarot card that they’re named for

for several reasons: 1, im a goddamn nerd who 2, loves tarot cards and 3, i fucking looked up the high priestess card before we did the invitation today and i guessed it was going to be about mara and spoiler alert IT WAS IT WAAAAS

so i’m gonna try and get caught up before next friday and post my thoughts each week because each one has been scarily accurate to whatever has been going on in the invitation and im so here for it

anyway, its not gonna be done for a few days so i wanted to share my thoughts from the first invitation, ive also tried to explain a bit about each card for those not versed in tarot but ive only been using the cards for a year so a lot of my info comes from biddytarot which is a resource i use a lot i’d recommend it

and i’ll be honest a lot of the explanations are going to be the whole ‘can i copy your homework’ ‘yeah but make it look a little bit different’ bc im worried about getting that part wrong aha

anyway, enjoy some ramblings under the cut!

Week 1: The World // W E A S K T O S E E Y O U

The World is the last card in the Major Arcana, numbered 21. The card depicts a naked woman, covered by a cloth, looking behind her to the past while her body moves to the future. The wreath around her depicts a cycle ending and beginning almost immediately. There are other motifs on the card that call to other cards (The Magician and the Wheel of Fortune) and represent harmony and balance.

Upright, The World represents completion and accomplishment, encouraging you to appreciate your successes and bask in the joy of them. This card asks you to celebrate before jumping into the next thing, to look back and reflect on all that you have done to get to this final point.

Furthermore, reflection is a key point to this card. If you haven't reached that peak yet, this card invites you to reflect on past experiences and lessons you have learned along the way in order to aid you. This reflection can be helpful in bringing the cycle to its end so that you can start anew.

It also in a more literal sense can relate to world travel, especially on a large scale, and gaining an appreciation for people and cultures around the world.

Reversed, The World represents seeking personal closure, and/or coming across delays in something. This card encourages you to embrace something you probably already know; it’s time to move on. To stop looking into the past and take that step into the future. But, it’s not going to be that easy, and you need to find closure in order to take that step.

The World reversed also tells you that you’re trying really hard to finish a project or make it to the next goal, but you’re not taking the necessary steps to get there. In particular, you’re trying to use short cuts and it’s not working out.

There’s also a warning here, one that asks you if you’re slacking off towards the end of a goal or a project, or even alerts you that that’s what is happening.

Finally, The World reversed can also represent a delay in a project, urging you to find a different way to get to the finish line.

The cutscene we see in this invitation is Drifter being visited by someone who represents a part of his past: a Shadow of Yor. Then immediately afterwards he is gifted the Haul by the Nine, starting a brand new cycle for him to introduce it to the Guardians along with Prime.

“Gambit is a chance at salvation,” he says to the Shadow; a chance at a new cycle, perhaps? Further connotations of leaving the past and embracing the future. If we’re looking at the reverse meanings, even finding closure in such a meeting?

In particular, the word reflection really stands out to me with this card, as the Nine ask us to experience a vision, to reflect on something from the past. The Emissary also talks of two other people who, in the past, have shown themselves to be worthy to the Nine.

Also, The Emissary refers to Drifter as ‘Dredgen’ - ignoring his correction that ‘it’s Drifter, now’. You could argue she’s looking to the past, whilst having to move forward with what the Nine want.

Drifter is also well traveled, we can guess as much given who he is and also the advice he gives us in the allegiance quest; “Trade your jumpship for a long-range hauler and see the universe while you can.”

“I want the best for you, kid. And you won’t find it in this system.” Again, leaving one cycle for something new - encouraging us not to end up like the reversed version of this card; looking for short cuts in our endeavors, or becoming stagnant. He’s encouraging us to seek a different way to fight the Darkness, as the reverse version does.

#jadeisadork.txt #wip #i guess #oh MAN #these invitations have me on tenderhooks christ #also pls be gentle with me if u know more about tarot than i do #i am a small creacher #i really dont want to get that side of this wrong aha

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blaperile · 5 years

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Homestuck Epilogues - Meat - Page 16 (Epilogue 3 Page 3)

#Homestuck #The Homestuck Epilogues #Meat #Epilogue Three #Dirk #Rose

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free-pool-trash · 7 years

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Periods with the Free! boys:

Hey guys, it’s shark week lmao I’m in pain and spent too long wishing the Free! boys would take care as me as I laid awake in intense pain until 5AM so here is how I believe the boys would take care of you! Also my last Free! headcanons now have over 400 notes, thank you all so much!!

Haru:

So you were staying with him when you felt the cramps coming along, you were both just chilling on his couch talking when you went quiet and tried to hide the fact that your insides felt like they were about to bust out

Being the caring boyfriend he is he asked you what was wrong and unluckily this would be the first time Haru was along for the wild ride which is shark week, so cue blushing mess (Y/n) trying to tell her monotone boyfriend that her feminine cycle had begun

Eventually you got the words out and it was one of the rare occasions where Haru blushed really hard, all this poor boy could get out was a quiet “oh.” and you were then both plunged into an awkward silence

After a few minutes Haru caught on to the situation. He was your boyfriend, but what did boyfriends do in these types of situations? Did they go to the store and buy supplies? Did they cuddle? WHAT DOES HE DO?

Haru’s accurate train of thought at that moment

Alright but imagine 50% off Haru in this moment

Shit Haru what do we do?

Uh, eh...oh OH WE SHOULD LEAVE A TRAIL OF TAMPONS TO THE DOOR

That’s a dumb idea Haru

You’re a dumb idea Haru

Ouch Haru, cut me deep Haru

He’ll get over the shock fairly quickly and proceed to looking after you, he’ll get you a hot water bottle and all the food you won’t want to admit you’re craving and if you want them, all the hugs he can give

He’ll do whatever makes you happy that entire week, he’s probably one of the best people to have with you because this boy will literally bring tampons/pads in his fucking messenger bag for you in case you need them

If other guys give him smug looks in the store when he’s buying said tampons or pads he will ruin them oh my god. One time he was minding his own business buying his girlfriend some feminine items when this guy gave him the most smug look and Haru just stared him right in the eye and said “They’re for my girlfriend, I’m guessing you don’t have one.” Then he just... walked away.

He is surprisingly really good at handling how clingy you get during this time

Just a really good person to be around to make your period a little bit less painful.

Makoto:

Boy oh boy, stop your search you’ve found the one, congratulations.

Alright, he is a sweetie pie, this we already knew but when period week comes? Hello Makoto 2.0 is here to meet you.

He knows when you’re on it because you get all emotional and just start needing all of his attention all of the time, constantly, 24/7, the whole week, entire 7 days. He loves showering you in affection so this is okay with him.

He may as well just be named a saint, he gets you painkillers if you need them he will buy you all the sweets. You want ice cream? He’ll get it.

He’ll watch a romcom with you thinking it would be a fantastic idea to make you laugh but you started to cry when the main character did something stupid to their significant other. Makoto was then lie ‘I really don’t know why I didn’t see this coming’

“I just really love you and please don’t do that.”

“You know I wouldn’t, I love you so much.”

You end up crying of happiness because he’s so sweet

He keeps tampons/pads in his bathroom for you and his mother was just like

“Ran isn’t quite at that stage yet, dear.”

He’s just like

“Mom no they’re for (Y/n) if she needs them.”

AND HIS MOTHER WAS JUST LIKE ‘THAT’S THE SON I RAISED, I AM SHINING WITH PRIDE’

His mother dotes on you during the week as well she just kinda knows when it’s time, woman senses probably

Makoto get’s Ren and Ran to bring you gifts he bought for you because he knows it makes you happy, sometimes you’ll cry because Ren stays that little bit longer to give you a hug and Ran tells you she hopes you get better soon because she doesn’t understand.

In terms of who you want with you during your period he will give you all of his attention so 100% an amazing choice When I say all of his attention I’m not shitting around, Haru calls? Sorry bro. Ren and Ran need babysitting? Can he bring you along?

He won’t smother you either, if by chance you act like you feel trapped he’s on the other side of the getting ready for when you start crying about being lonely

You’re like a cat

Nagisa:

HAHAHAHAHAHA he has older sisters he’s ready. best trained and most capable to deal with this situation which is surprising I know but seeing as his sisters used to make him wear girly clothes they probably weren’t above sending him to buy tampons/pads or heating pads or making him dip into his sweet stash and provide them with the good shit.

So when you start getting snappy he’s like *internal groan* he’s a lot more patient with you than with his siblings because he knows nobody will ever be as bad as his oldest sister

If you get mad at him he won’t take it to heart unlike any other day, he’ll just say something nice to you and let you cool down for a bit before he goes in for the snuggles

He doesn’t get confused when buying tampons/pads because again,sisters. But he manages to get the exact ones you need and you’re not sure whether you should be pleased or creeped out

“How did you know which type I needed?” “Just an informed guess.” “What do you mean’informed guess’“ “Nothing...”

He knows one of your main shark week quirks is insane mood swings, you get really easily agitated out of nowhere, you’ll initiate a hug but then as soon as he responds you squirm you way out of it, at first Nagisa was like “Why don’t you want my love????” but now he’s just like “Alright baby, seeya next week.”

He acquires this calm, mature personality when it’s the time because you don’t feel well and he wants to feel like he’s 100% only taking care of you and not you feeling like you need to look after him

But of course Nagisa is still Nagisa and when you crave sweets he’ll make you play the pockey game with him and or show up with these weird ass candies you’ve never even heard of

Despite all this our baby boy takes very very very very good care of you and will get you whatever whenever

alright but Thugisa dealing with this can we just

“So it’s shark week huh? Damn never knew jaws 3D had a cousin, HAH” “Nagisa, please don’t smoke that, it’s a tampon not a joint” “Nah nah nah, babe just watch, you light it up like so then- shit it’s burning. DON’T BREATH IN.”

Please make this happen

A good period kid

Rei:

Oh no.

nuh uh I think the fuck not

Over educated on the subject of periods and afraid (His own little version of naked and afraid)

So you, his girlfriend, are bleeding out of a place where the sun don’t shine and are in a mood.

He knows what’s up and how does he respond you dare ask? HE LITERALLY LEAVES YOU ALONE UNTIL IT’S OVER

Nah no joke the first period in the relationship he literally left for five days only sending you texts like “Love you are you better yet?” he didn’t realize he messed up until he made you cry because he said he had homework and was too busy to come over and cuddle you

You sobbed over the phone while he was still on the line so he came over in the end, that was a fun time

From then on he got a little better, he doesn’t drop off the face of the earth anymore which is y’know a plus

He’s just so sweet but so awkward

Anything else and he’d be doting on you like a worried mother but for whatever reason he just can’t with this

Bless him though he gets you whatever you ask for with no protests although tampon/pad buying is a different story

“What ones do I get, there are so many! Do you need extra absorbent or just regular absorbance? What’s all this stuff about flows? What’s your flo-”

“Rei, shut up and just pick up the ones that say regular, please.”

“Okay, got it.”

“Finally”

“(Y/n) somebody is looking at me funny, this is not beautiful!”

More of a drama queen than you if we’re all being dead honest with each other here.

Rin:

Here’s a guy who thinks he knows what’s up but actually doesn’t sorry to break it to ya baby

He’s all like

“Oh, you’re on your period, don’t worry babe, Gou’s a girl I know how this stuff works”

Spoiler alert! HE DOESN’T AT ALL, YOU ASKED HIM TO BUY YOU TAMPONS AND HE CAME BACK WITH PADS CLAIMING:

“Uh, they’re both the same thing right?”

Who is this boy and why doesn’t he at age 17-18 know what a tampon is?

But you know what they say about sharks and blood ;)

JK THAT ISN’T THIS KIND OF POST GOTCHUUUUUUUU

You literally have to teach him the difference between a tampon and a pad, needless to say it was a painful conversation for the both of you.

Other than that he’s pretty good the only problem is you have to borderline bribe this little shit into helping you out, he’s such a damn cuddle monster that he’s like

“Yeah of course I’ll run to the store and get you some pain killers and chocolate...”

“Thank you Rin Rin.”

“If...”

“Oh for the love of God! What? What do you want from me?”

“Cuddles.”

You’d swear he was the one on his period

On that note he’ll rub your tummy when the cramps are being little ass hats (You know when the cramps aren’t like pounding but they’re there and bringing really intense pain and you’re just sitting, waiting for death thinking HOW?? Yeah I feel like a belly rub from Rin Matsuoka would cure that.)

He’ll give you all the affection, he’s a good boy

You’re own personal heating pad

Sousuke:

AHA, um um um okay. lol

95% of the time he is the most amazing boyfriend you could ever ask for, bless him the period week is that 5% when he’s just barely average

Strap yourself in because I’m gonna be saying barely a lot in these points

Alright if we’re gonna be real hear, he’s grossed out. he does not like this, there is blood coming out of your what? Sign him out, he’ll barely let you use his bathroom during that week

It’s like a switch in his mind goes from kissing you softly and whispering “I love you baby” to awkwardly at most wrapping his arm around your shoulder and going “Shh it’s okay?” In barely a matter of seconds

Don’t get me wrong he still loves you with all of his heart this is just really not his thing, he’ll bring you food though, that’s kinda the only thing he can do during this time

You can groan from pain and he’ll be like

“Baby? Are you okay? Do you need more chocolate?”

“No, Sou, it’s just cramps.”

“I’ll go get you more chocolate”

“No! Sou I don’t need more cho-”

“Yeah, i’ll get you more chocolate”

He wholeheartedly believes that chocolate is going to stop the blood that’s leaving your body

Aside from all of this, this is Sousuke Yamazaki we’re talking about and he is willing to put his grossed outness aside and do whatever for you if he sees you start to get really upset/sore/needy

To be honest he drops his “Eww girls are icky!” facade at least once a day, he’s not about to deny you his hugs and kisses while you’re in pain who do you think he is? some sort of monster?

I think the fuck not.

Nitori:

Aww an awkward baby boy

He knows what a period is and when you tell him you’re on yours as a warning in case you end up getting mad at him further into the week he blushes and asks you what you need him to do or if you even want him to do anything

If you do he’ll get whatever you asked for with no questions asked (Apart from maybe what pads/tampons you need, it’s embarrassing for both of you but unless you wanna be uncomfortable and grumpy and not to mention leaky it is a question that needs to be asked)

Even if you don’t ask him for anything he’ll stock up on everything he thinks you may need anyway

I’m taking tampons AND pads, all your favorite sweets and chocolate, pain killers (Not even the regular ones but the ones that are made for period pains what a saint), heating pads, the works

You’ll be in his dorm and you’ll like sneeze or something (Get real girls, we all know how it is) and at that moment you have The Fear but he sees and he’s all shy like

“Is it that time?”

“um, yeah.”

Then he pulls open his drawer, hands you a pack of pads/tampons and tosses this mass amount of chocolate onto the bed and you’re just internally screaming about how after you deal with the bloody situation you’re having you were going to kiss his sweet little face

Makes a point of giving you extra kisses and hugs because lucky for you you don’t have bad cramps but you do get very emotional but half the time Aii is on that level anyway so that week is just one big pile of yikes

You just want the snuggles and buddy will he give them to you

He won’t lie, I won’t lie, he lives for period week, I mean come on, he loves your attention and on period week all he has to do is exist to get it (same as usual), a score on his part.

Momotarou:

AH, has anyone died of second hand embarrassment yet? No?

Well you’re about to

So it was a Friday and you were cuddling in his dorm, Nitori was visiting his family so it was just the two of you, this beautiful boy decided you should stay the night

And of course, you were cuddling your amazing boyfriend, he was snuggly and warm so you agreed to stay the night sleeping with him in his bed

And you bled on his sheets.

Uhuh, unluckily you were the first one to wake up and again came The Fear (I know the pain of bleeding on something that isn’t my own bed sheet, it’s the worst dear god kill me) You just started at the huge blood stain underneath you and paniced

What the actual fuck were you supposed to tell him? Yeah goodmorning baby, sorry no goodmorning kiss, I have something better! I ruined your bed sheets and very possibly the mattress underneath due to my monthly female cycle?

When he woke up you panicked, you lost all sense, so when he asked you in a huge ass panic if you were okay because there was blood everywhere you started to cry out of pure guilt

“I’m sorry I got my period during the night and I’m so so so so sorry I ruined your sheets, I’ll clean them for you I’m sorry don’t hate me!”

For minute he’s just tryna piece together what the fuck just happened when he finally gets it around his head his first thought definitely is not of the sheets

He get’s you off the bed so fast, his first instinct to get you out of those blood covered clothes and get you warm because ‘Oh God she’s probably had to lay in the blood for hours she’s probably so uncomfortable right now my poor baby!’

He gives you a pair of his boxers, baggy sweatpants and he threw his yellow hoodie there too because he knows it’s your favorite.

He then leaves you in his dorm the clean up and get changed and he’s straight out the door on his way to the store dead set on buying you tampons/pads Rin sees him rushing down the halls at 9AM and he’s like what the fuck?

“Momo? What are you doing up so early?”

“NO TIME TO TALK!”

Every time you’re on your period he gives you his yellow hoodie so you basically live in it for a week and he’s just kinda like “sweet”

He genuinely couldn’t care less if you bleed on every single sheet he owns, he’s not letting you be alone without somebody to cuddle with, fair to say sunshine baby doesn’t know all too much about the magic of periods but he knows enough

He has no problem buying you tampons or pads but you probably shouldn’t let him because if he’s in panic mode and somebody looks at him funny he will actually square up to them and be like

“STOP LOOKING AT ME, I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND”

He’s a great person to be around on your period because he’s happy enough to keep you happy but not so happy that it gets on your nerves

Hope you enjoyed xx

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c0ronas-blog · 6 years

Text

well, albert was… a tad painful to write

–

warnings: none? oh wait, meme-y albert

JOJO SIGHED AS HIS PHONE BUZZED FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME. He reluctantly took it from his pocket, scanning the screen to check the notifications. It didn’t surprise him that almost all of them were from his friend, Albert.

It was July 4th, and JoJo was unwillingly participating in a family celebration at his house. He’d rather be out partying with his own friends - if he was going to be honest, he just wanted to hang out with Al.

The two had promised each other that they would get together on the 4th, with Albert hinting that they’d go party-crashing at random places. It intrigued JoJo more than he wanted to admit.

JoJo opened one of the fifteen texts Albert had sent, reading over them. He sighed, rolling his eyes. Albert knew that an excessive use of emojis bothered JoJo, and he’d been sure to include several of them in his recent texts.

JoJo’s fingers flew across the screen as he typed his response to Albert’s texts.

> JoJo I might not be able to get away tonight, sorry

> Albert Aha, you finally responded. Wait, why?

> JoJo Family stuff… we’ve got a party going on

It was a minute or two before Albert responded with a series of crying-face emojis. JoJo’s eyes narrowed.

> JoJo If you promise not to send too many emojis, I’ll try and get out of this.

> Albert 👌👌👍👍👌👌👍👍

> JoJo This is the last time I let you do that

> Albert

> JoJo Where the hell did you get that emoji

> Albert Meet me outside your house in ten minutes and I’ll tell you

JoJo bit his lip. Now another reason to go party-crashing with albert was added to the list: finding out where Albert had received a dab emoji.

> JoJo Fine. No gimmicks.

> Albert No guarantee 😁😁😉😉😏😏

“Okay, I’m here,” JoJo sighed, turning to face Albert, who was sitting cross-legged on the front lawn of JoJo’s house, plucking at the blades of grass.

“Good!” cheered Albert, glancing up at his friend. “Now, let’s go ruin some parties.” JoJo held up a palm.

“That’s not what I agreed to,” JoJo reminded him. “I only came out here because I want to know where on earth you got such an awful emoji.”

Albert grinned. “That’s what you get to find out as soon as you come with me,” he said. Seeing the look that JoJo gave him, Albert’s smile faded. “I’m sorry if I’m bugging you too much about this. You just… you did promise.”

Reluctantly, JoJo agreed. “I did,” he admitted. He pulled out his phone from one of his pockets and started to type, the faint sound meeting Albert’s ears.

“What’re you doing?” asked Albert, cautiously raising himself onto his feet. JoJo held the phone away from Albert, still typing. “Hey, come on! What’re you doing?”

The typing ceased and JoJo brandished his phone, showing it to Albert. “Telling my mom that I’ll be back before 10,” said JoJo. Albert looked first from JoJo’s phone to JoJo himself, his smile splitting his face.

“Awesome,” he whispered. He shoved a thin piece of paper into JoJo’s hand. “List of people from school who have parties tonight. Who’re we gonna hit first?”

“Where did you get this?” asked JoJo, his brows raised.

“I have sources,” Albert said. “They’re also the same sources I got that dab emoji from.” JoJo sighed.

“It’s never answers with you,” he said, shaking his head. “Now, how about we head to Tony Mills’ place? I heard he usually hosts some pretty big parties.”

Albert raised a fist, looking to receive a fist-bump. When JoJo didn’t provide, Albert let his arm drop. “Tony Mills? You’re definitely talking my language now,” he said, excitement pitching his voice up an octave.

JoJo shrugged. “I’m becoming more fluent as time passes,” he said. “Though trust me, I’m backing out of learning if I find out that your language requires frequent usage of emojis.”

Albert patted JoJo’s shoulder. “If you don’t want to use emojis, you can make up for it with a daily supplement of Fortnite dances,” he suggested.

JoJo’s eyes went wide with horror as he shook off Albert’s hand. “No,” he hissed. “Anything but that.”

Albert gave JoJo a mocking look of astonishment. “You mean… none of this?” He demonstrated with a slow version of what JoJo believed was called ‘hype’.

Hiding his little knowledge of the dances and their names behind an annoyed face, JoJo grunted. “None of that,” he confirmed, reaching out to wrap his arms around Albert’s shoulders from behind, preventing him from continuing. “None at all.”

Albert sighed, his head lolling back against JoJo’s chest. “Fine,” he said, his hands coming up to grab JoJo’s wrists. “But if we’re going to a Tony Mills party, you can expect a lot of those.” JoJo winced.

“We’re going,” he said. “And I am going to make sure neither of us get drunk.”

Albert slipped out from JoJo’s arms. “Where’s the fun in that?” He skipped along the sidewalk, heading towards his car - or, more accurately, his brother’s car.

“There’s plenty of fun,” JoJo called after Albert. “Like not landing in jail.”

“Jail’s fun!” Albert responded loudly. “You should try it some time!”

JoJo buried his head in his hands.

#newsies #newsies ships #jojo de la guerra #albert dasilva #jojo x albert #platonic jojo x albert #do they even have a ship name lmao #jalbert?#jobert?#hahah that one's good #aljo #maybe #oh well #corey writes #yeet

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zrtranscripts · 6 years

Text

Season 7, Mission 28: Easy To Forget

Relative Truth

[birds twitter, river runs]

JONES: They've ducked behind those rocks. Keep laying down fire, boys!

[gunshots]

SAM YAO: Okay, we've lost a crate of Sage's medical supplies, no one can agree on how, and now people are shooting at you! Not the best day.

JONES: Oh, I recognize you there, Colonel De Luca. [laughs] It's me, Jones. And I see Runner Five and Miss Spens, as well. Surrender and we'll take you alive.

AMELIA SPENS: Yes, of course I'm willing to trust you, because I've completely forgotten that you're a conspiracy lunatic who took me hostage!

[gunshots]

JANINE DE LUCA: [whispers] If I recall, Mr. Jones moved to New Aberystwyth. Colonel Sage has been helping people like him find lost loved ones. Perhaps he's discovered what happened to Jones' wife, Millie. [shouts] Mr. Jones, there's been a misunderstanding. Abel are your friends, remember?

JONES: [laughs] Oh, that's what you want me to believe. But Colonel Sage trusted you to deliver meds, and you stole them! I saw you break into the crate myself! You're here to salvage it.

SAM YAO: Guys, Veronica's revised her calculations. If Jones can't see the crate from that outcrop, it's probably further downriver.

JANINE DE LUCA: Five, we cannot allow our allies to suspect us. We are not Miss Spens.

AMELIA SPENS: Not with that attitude, you're not.

JANINE DE LUCA: Mr. Jones, we always intended to deliver the crate. We know where it is. We can lead you there.

JONES: No tricks, Colonel. You lead, my men will follow behind you. One wrong move, and we shoot! You better keep a good pace up. There are zoms around.

[river runs]

SAM YAO: Veronica says follow the river until the bank goes pebbly.

JANINE DE LUCA: Mr. Jones, we were not attempting to abscond with your supplies.

JONES: I saw you. I was out gathering wood when I saw you by the waterfall. I thought about saying hello. [laughs] Ever since I last saw you, Colonel Sage has helped me to understand that... you were probably right about what happened to Millie. Sigrid killed any ordinary people who stood in her way. [laughs] I wanted to tell you I was sorry about what happened before. Then I saw one of you trying to pick the lock on the crate.

AMELIA SPENS: That was probably Janine.

JONES: You even tried smashing the crate open on the rocks! Then those zombies came, and you ran for it. You promised me Abel was trying to make the world a better place, but you lied! Just like the Ministry!

[zombies moan]

JANINE DE LUCA: We didn't lie. And I know Colonel Sage is an honorable man. But we've made too much noise. Zombies!

JONES: We know what we're doing. Keep moving forward, Colonel De Luca.

[gunshots]

JANINE DE LUCA: Mr. Jones, the zombies have surrounded your men. The numbers of V-types are already increasing since the action at the necropolis. Five, duck into the trees. It's our only chance of losing them. Run.

[birds twitter]

JANINE DE LUCA: I think we've lost the zombies, Five. Back to the river.

[foliage rustles]

JONES: I can see the crate. It's on the opposite bank of the river.

JANINE DE LUCA: There's a fallen log we can use to cross. And while we do, Mr. Jones, let me tell you precisely how we lost that crate, as I recall it.

[flashback; thunder rolls, rain patters]

SAM YAO: Oh, this mission is so exciting! It's just like the films I spent far too much time watching. But be careful, guys. Runner Seventeen spotted V-types near that forest, and the trolley you're using makes a lot of noise.

JANINE DE LUCA: Understood, Mr. Yao. We're trusting you to guide us through.

AMELIA SPENS: She's trusting you, Sam. I'm trusting myself to keep me alive. This apparel isn't nearly lavish enough for me to die in.

JANINE DE LUCA: Your devotion to teamwork never ceases to amaze, Miss Spens. [zombies groan] Zombies, three, closing fast. [gunshots] My sidearm is ineffective. V-types. Mr. Yao, we need an exit strategy. Miss Spens, I see you trying to break into the crate with your hairpin.

AMELIA SPENS: You spoil all my fun, Janine!

SAM YAO: Righto. Give me a minute. Aha! Yes! There's a waterfall to your north. It's the quickest way out. Run!

[flashback; rain patters]

SAM YAO: Okay, guys. The waterfall should look like a pop cultural reference. There's a ledge behind it that will lead you out of the forest.

JANINE DE LUCA: We're on the ledge now, Mr. Yao. It's difficult to keep the crate steady on these wet rocks.

SAM YAO: Sorry. Should have thought of that.

[crate clatters]

JANINE DE LUCA: Five, the crate's fallen. Help Miss Spens get it upright. The lid is cracked. Hazmat suits and lidocaine vials are spilling out. Miss Spens, touch nothing.

[gunshots]

AMELIA SPENS: There's five more coming from the opposite direction! If only there was some way I could bargain your lives for mine!

JANINE DE LUCA: Options, Mr. Yao?

SAM YAO: Well, you could try jumping off the waterfall, like a pop cultural reference concerning an escapee. Uh, no. Sorry. That would be foolish. [paper rustles] Aha! According to this map, the cliff behind the fall is full of caves, like the curly confectionary product I enjoy. They're too narrow for the crate, but -

AMELIA SPENS: We could leave the crate behind, come back for it later. And if my forces happen to arrive first...

JANINE DE LUCA: Step back from the crate, Miss Spens.

AMELIA SPENS: Janine, I was just securing the lid.

[zombie growls]

JANINE DE LUCA: There's a V-type behind you! Five, pull Miss Spens aside.

[crate splashes into water]

AMELIA SPENS: You kicked the crate over the edge!

JANINE DE LUCA: And it took the zombie along with it. Mr. Yao? The crate is lost, but Five has spotted a cave entrance. Come along, all of you. Run!

[present time; birds twitter]

SAM YAO: Guys, are you at the crate?

JANINE DE LUCA: Affirmative, Mr. Yao. We're across the river and we have reached the target. The crate seems intact.

AMELIA SPENS: Say what you like, Janine. I don't remember any zombie behind me.

JANINE DE LUCA: You couldn't hear it over the waterfall, and you were fixated on the hazmat suits in that crate.

AMELIA SPENS: Yes, I'm well known for being obsessed with hazmat suits.

JONES: Oh, don't think I was fooled by that flimsy story for a second, Colonel. My men will be arresting you all.

[gunshots, zombies growl, men scream]

AMELIA SPENS: Actually, I can see your men on the other bank. They're running away from the zombies. Or dead.

JONES: What?

JANINE DE LUCA: He's distracted. Five, quick, disarm him!

[Runner Five tackles JONES]

AMELIA SPENS: Impressive tackle, Five.

JONES: My gun. Give it back!

JANINE DE LUCA: I think not, Mr. Jones. We will prove our innocence by delivering this crate to New Aberystwyth as promised. There's no sign of the trolley. We'll have to carry it.

AMELIA SPENS: And how will we get through the zombie-infested forest, Janine?

VERONICA MCSHELL: Hello, Janine, Five? Veronica here. Sam put me through. I can calculate a safe route through the forest, but I need to know how many zombies there were to start off with. Every variable changes the equation.

JANINE DE LUCA: One may have fallen into the waterfall. Miss Spens and I disagree.

VERONICA MCSHELL: I can solve that. I've been modeling your stories using your psych profiles to fill in the blanks. I can merge the accounts together to create a version I estimate to be 95.23% accurate.

JANINE DE LUCA: We cannot stay here. Five, help me lift the crate. Miss McShell, begin your calculations.

VERONICA MCSHELL: Head towards the rock formations to your north. The gunfire from Mr. Jones' men will attract more V-types. Hurry!

[birds twitter]

VERONICA MCSHELL: Oh, interesting. Janine, I have my simulation. I think I know what really happened by the waterfall.

[flashback; thunder rolls, rain patters]

SAM YAO: Okay, guys. The waterfall should look like the one by Prometheus, or one of 137 other movies I often reference. There's a ledge behind that will lead you out of the woods.

JANINE DE LUCA: We're on the ledge now, Mr. Yao. It is challenging to keep the crate stable on these wet rocks.

SAM YAO: Ah. Yeah, sorry. Should have thought of that.

JANINE DE LUCA: A lesson for next time, Mr. Yao.

AMELIA SPENS: My outfit is getting soaked, Sam. [crate clatters] Five, the crate's fallen off the trolley. Help me get it upright. [whispers] Just between us, I thought a push might crack the lid. I've been dying to get a look at Sage's supplies. The man's so mysterious. And I can't deny it interests me that he's commanding so much of Peter's attention.

JANINE DE LUCA: I see those supplies spilling, Miss Spens. Do not steal anything. [zombies growl, gunshots] The zombies are slipping on the rocks. It may buy us some time.

AMELIA SPENS: No, it won't. There's five coming from the other direction.

SAM YAO: Oh God, it's a trap. Can they do traps?

JANINE DE LUCA: It's possible, Mr. Yao. Options?

SAM YAO: Uh, well, you could jump in the water, like Harrison Ford in the Fugitive. Uh, no. Sorry. That was a dam. Wait, my map says that the cliffside is full of caves. Like a giant Curly Wurly, only obviously, not like that at all. They're too narrow for the crate, but -

AMELIA SPENS: I suggest a plan now that has a 98% probability of ending with myself in possession of the crate.

JANINE DE LUCA: I do not agree, Miss Spens. [zombie growls] Miss Spens, get away from the crate.

AMELIA SPENS: Calm down, Janine. I was just securing the lid.

JANINE DE LUCA: You are too close to the edge, and there is a V-type right behind you. Five, grab Miss Spens.

[crate splashes into water, zombie squeals]

AMELIA SPENS: You kicked the crate over the side.

JANINE DE LUCA: And saved your life, Miss Spens. The crate survived the fall. Veronica will be able to reacquire it. Five, there's a cave entrance behind you. Everybody, go.

[present time; birds twitter]

VERONICA MCSHELL: Simulation complete. I've plotted your route to New Aberystwyth. Head through the conifers to your west. That is your safest path. Run!

[crowd cheers and applauds]

AMELIA SPENS: Goodness, New Aberystwyth do seem thrilled with their supplies.

JONES: I must thank you. Carrying the crate all the way. The supplies are everything we need. You're a true friend to Colonel Sage. And so is your AI friend. Must be amazing to have an AI friend.

JANINE DE LUCA: Yes, our AI friend is an invaluable asset. I've been thinking, Mr. Yao. After all the assistance Colonel Sage has given us, perhaps we should introduce him to our AI friend. And to tell him more about how it was... constructed.

SAM YAO: Huh. Weirdly, Veronica just said the same thing. Her simulations apparently suggest he'd be a more valuable ally if he knew more about her. She's gone off to recheck her models. And she said, and I quote, "I'm glad to be free of the vagaries of human reasoning and recollection." Hmm. It's funny how we all remember things differently, isn't it? Still, at least now we know what happened.

AMELIA SPENS: Please. Veronica's 95% accurate is a long way from 100% true.

SAM YAO: That's funny, because Veronica also said there's a 97% chance you were hiding something in your story.

AMELIA SPENS: See? She isn't even sure she has all the facts.

JANINE DE LUCA: Who can be, Miss Spens, with people like you in the world? Let's get back to Abel. On the way, Runner Five, do tell us. Which version of events do you remember?

#zombies run #zrs7 #s7m28 #easy to forget #zr transcript #zrs7 spoilers

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