#also the guy shes with is called Cairn

[justreadertings]

Caught My Eye

Ok I know I’ve been MIA and I also know this should be TDDUP chapter 4... but honestly, it’s been fighting me. So to get my writer brain back on, I wrote this oneshot lol. Chapter 4 should be out soon, but I did just start a new job AND school so maybe no promises. Either way, I hope you enjoy a lil somethin somethin. Until next time, I love you guys- Magee

Oneshot: Caught My Eye

TW: Cursing, very small violence, mentions of stalking

Rowan Whitethorn was enjoying his beer. That’s all he could really say for the night. His friends had dragged him out to the bar, claiming it had been too long since they were all out together. But that was a lie. They hung out all the time without him.

He’d tried not to be a grump about it. After all, they’d asked him for weeks, and it wasn’t like he didn’t see them at the station every damn day. Rowan just wasn’t too thrilled about the expensive ass alcohol, the pushy, drunk idiots on the dancefloor, and the endless bets on who would win pool when they knew Lorcan won every time. It just seemed… pointless. All of it. He’d learned to tune out Fenrys’ taunts and hitting on countless women. 

The only thing that had actually caught his eye all evening was the first woman Fenrys had said a line to. She’d flipped him off, albeit halfheartedly. She’d been… gods, Rowan didn’t even know what to call her. She was like fire made person. Golden blonde hair, sparking blue eyes with a ringlet of flames around them. When she looked up at him, catching his eye with a wink… he’d been entranced. Her sharp jaw and deep neckline had taunted him even from across the bar. Even that wicked finger had sent a thrill down his spine. Until he noticed the finger next to it housing a glittering ring. 

So instead of confining in her… he had a beer. Or two. Besides, he’d seen a dark haired man saddle up close to her across the long bar just a minute ago. No matter it was the first interest he’d taken in a woman in a long, long time. Rowan needed to get over it. 

His green eyes cast away from the stunning woman, who’s aura was so strong it was like he could still feel her heat on his back. He focused on the rest of his friends, all tall and built enough that they could easily lean across the pool table and hit the hard shots. He slowly wallowed there, thinking of excuses of how to leave as Fenrys complained about Vaughan and Lorcan “teaming up on him”. Until a freezing hand gripped his elbow.

He turned to tell the person off, until being dragged down again by those gorgeous blue eyes. Except instead of the flirty wickedness in them before, there was deep fear. In a moment, his senses sparked to life.

“Pretend to be my fiancée. Please. Please,” she whispered. Her shaking hands gripped him harder.

Immediately, he rose from the stool, pulling her a bit closer, only by the arm. She was a stranger, after all. “Of course,” he told her. Anxiety pulled in his chest as her timid eyes settled on his chest. Her golden hair was like silk under his fingers, as it fell in long strands down her back. 

Rowan’s eyes pierced the crowd, and there, pushing through it, was a bony, dark haired man with a very sour look on his face. The woman’s fingers curled in his shirt.

“What’s your name?” He asked her.

She glanced up at him, catching him again and again. “Aelin.”

His breath caught. “Rowan,” he told her, somehow.

By that point, the slimy man had spotted them, and was on his way over. Aelin turned, wrapping his arm around her waist. His fingers brushed across her golden cocktail dress, his heart flipping. 

“Aelin,” he’d gruffed out. Rowan knew that was not how her name should have been said. It was poetic, unique, beautiful. It should not be demanded.

Her nails pierced his skin as they wrapped tightly around his wrist. “Cairn.”

“Who’s this,” the man- Cairn- jutted his chin to Rowan.

“My fiancé,” Aelin told him.

Rowan stared him down, having a good four inches on this man.

“You don’t have a fiancé,” Cairn sneered.

Rowan blanched at his bluntness. How did this man even know Aelin? Clearly, she was not interested.

“Ring says otherwise,” Rowan said, voice low. 

Aelin held up the hand, and leaned into the cradle of him. Rowan began to feel almost guilty for her actual fiancé. Then again, he’d have been grateful to any man who helped a woman out of this situation. If he still had a fiancée. But he didn’t have time to go down that road. Not when Cairn took a step closer to them. 

“You’re a fucking liar,” he pointed at her.

“And you’re a drunk asshole,” Aelin spat back at him.

Cairn clearly was drunk. He shook his head violently, all kinds of pissed off, laughing to himself. He shook with sick laughter, and Rowan felt even more protection build for Aelin. It had been around an hour since they’d first gotten here- if this douche was bothering her for that long… 

“Why are you doing this Aelin? Stop making this difficult.”

Aelin rolled those eyes of hers, and Rowan had to hand it to her. She was an incredibly talented actress. “I’m not making anything difficult. My fiancé and I like games. And you’re ruining our fun. So maybe piss off.”

Cairn leaned closer into their space. “I would know if you were fucking someone else.” 

Aelin trailed her fingers over the arm Rowan had banded around her waist, leaving sparks in her wake. Though her fingers were still freezing, she acted completely unfazed at the horrible words. Rowan once again yearned to know the backstory here.

“You’d have to be stalking me to know that. And you wouldn’t go that far, would you?” Aelin leveled her eyes at him.

Cairn looked Rowan up and down. “I bet he doesn’t know a thing about you.”

It seemed fate was on their side, as just at that moment, the bartender sat a fruity, pink drink near Rowan’s elbow. The same drink Aelin had in her hand when Fenrys had first hit on her, which he promptly ordered for himself just a minute ago. With ease, Rowan handed the drink to her.

“Sorry your drink took so long, babe,” he smoothly lied.

Aelin sipped at the drink with that perfect mouth. “No problem at all. It’s my favorite after all.”

Rowan knew he might’ve been pushing it, and he would rightly curse himself for it later, but he let himself press a chaste kiss to her cheek. After all, the man truly wasn’t believing them. He’d apologize to her, too, after. “The best for you,” he told her.

She smiled up at him, sending fire down his veins. “No fruity drink for you, my love?” She asked him, voice made of honey.

“Would that please you?” He asked her, their banter coming as easy at tying his shoes.

Her mouth quirked up. “Perhaps.” 

Rowan almost forgot who they were, what they were doing. Only for a second. Before he could even respond, something wicked on his tongue, Rowan remembered their actual situation. 

“You’re fucking crazy,” Cairn voiced, pointing another accusing finger.

He watched Aelin scrutinize her stalker for a moment, and then promptly turned in his arms, reaching up in a split second before he could react. She pressed her lips to his ear, breathing, “fake ring,” into it. In a moment, everything in him relaxed. His soul might’ve come back to his body. He almost felt guilty for how much relief those two words gave him. Aelin pressed those lips right under his ear, and he could have sworn it was heaven on earth. She slipped her fingers into the very ends of his cropped, silver hair. He didn’t have time for guilt. It was all happening so fast.

Because he went from bliss to pure rage as Aelin was suddenly yanked from him. She tripped as Cairn tugged her from him. Rowan reacted on instinct, pushing him hard in the chest away from her. What the fuck was this man doing? He was drunk, obviously. Aelin nearly tumbled to the ground before he grabbed her to him. 

“Are you ok?” He asked, and even though she nodded, fear clouded her vision. He couldn’t blame her. Rowan pulled her behind him, and his friends had gathered around at the commotion. They all had stormy looks on their faces. 

Cairn was huffing and puffing, and Rowan was honestly worried he was about to launch at him again. “YOU’RE A CRAZY BITCH!” He screamed. 

Aelin’s hands gripped Rowan’s sides. “You need to get out of here,” Rowan told him, voice of gravel. “Before I make you.”

“Then make me,” Cairn spit at him. His fist was then flying. Rowan knew this drunk idiot had no idea he was attempting to fistfight a firefighter, because if he had, he would have been more prepared for the reality of Rowan catching his fist. Rowan stepped close, telling him with a snarl, “Rethink that move.” Cairn’s eyes were as wide as saucers.

By then, Gavriel had already clapped on Cairn’s shoulder. The man ragged against him, but Gavriel was calm as ever, Lorcan set in stone beside him as they pushed him back a bit. The bouncer, Chaol, who’d they all known for a while, was following them, ready to escort him out. 

As they left, Rowan physically felt the exhale behind him. Aelin’s forehead had fallen onto the space in between his shoulder blades. 

“Thank you.”

Rowan’s heart pulled in his chest. He slowly turned, and her head was dipped in deep breath. With a steady finger, he lifted her chin to look her in her eyes. A tiredness sat there. “Are you ok?”

She swallowed. “Maybe? Probably. I- I’ll be fine. But truly, thank you. I don’t know what would have…” her voice trailed off. 

Rowan shook his head, and made sure to keep his voice low. “No need to thank me. Really.” He hoped his arms bracing her on either side of the bar was not making her feel caged. He meant it to be protective. “This is really none of my business, so feel free to tell me to piss off…” She snorted. “But who was that guy? He didn’t exactly seem like a stranger.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, and though Rowan knew he’d just met her, he seemed to know it was a play at being nonchalant and not the actual display of that emotion. “He was a very very bad decision, one night, two years ago.” 

“Fuck,” Rowan whispered. “He’s been on your case for two years?”

Aelin actually laughed at that. “No,” she shook her head. “I just moved back home. I did a year abroad in Adarlan. He recognized me last week, and I’m like ninety percent sure he’s been outside my apartment at least twice since then.”

“Gods,” Rowan said. He could kill the man. “Have you called the cops?”

Aelin winked at him, the same snare that had caught him the first time. “They weren’t so quick to come to my rescue.”

Rowan just shook his head, even as her words of approval did something to his head. “I’m sure you’ll be on your way home soon?”

Aelin shrugged, hopping up onto the stool. “I don’t know… I have a very strong fiancé right here who’s already bought me a fancy drink.”

Rowan laughed, a sound so foreign to his otherwise hollow body. He hadn’t felt a laugh like that in ages. 

“I haven’t been able to thank you enough for that, by the way. For just going with it, and for the fruity drink I’m assuming is your pretty blonde friend’s who made eyes with me earlier?” 

Rowan felt as though she was looking down at him, even if he still had a few inches on her sitting there. “I already told you, you don’t need to thank me. And yes, you’d be right about that drink.”

Aelin placed the empty glass on the bar. Her eyes caught his, and it felt as if the world froze for a moment when she said, “want to buy me another one?”

Rowan swallowed. “You’re not… eager to leave or anything?” 

“I was having a very shitty night. And while that restraining order isn’t going to look too pretty in the morning… I’m actually having a very pleasant time here with you. So how about that drink?”

Rowan cut her a real, genuine smile. He had never beckoned a bartender over faster. 

I hope that sedated you all lol. I will promise to work more on TDDUP, the ideas are there, I swear it! Anyway, forehead kisses and chocolates all around

Taglist: @leiawritesstories​ @tomtenadia​ @fireheart-violet​ @backtobl4ck​ @morganofthewildfire​ @rowaelinismyotp​ @aelinchocolatelover​ @thegreyj​ @foughtconquered​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @booklover242​ @stardelia​

[howlingday]

Scarlet Knight, Velvet has a crush on Jaune however finds herself unable to say it outloud to him. One day their paired up for a match and while jaune didnt mean any offense sees this as an easy match...angering her that she beats him in combat however when she realizes the boy she loves is under him she faints making them both lose, in the infirmary she confesses her feelings.

"Next match," Professor Goodwitch called from the ring, "Jaune Arc of Team JNPR will spar, unarmed, against Velvet Scarlatina of Team CFVY."

"Good luck, Jaune. ...Ow." Ruby winced as his fellow team leader returned from the previous match against Cardin. He got one lucky shot in and dropped her aura hard.

"Thanks." Jaune gulped, stepping down to the locker room, ready to get changed.

Velvet may have been smaller than Cardin, but she was also ahead by one year. She probably had some super awesome moves from being the best team of last year. For her, this match would be a piece of cake.

---------------------------------------------------

Velvet's heart thundered in her chest. She was straight up freaking out! Full-on panic mode! Why did she agree to participate with the first years?!

Oh, wait! She didn't! Coco signed her up, in a sick attempt at playing matchmaker. Stupid, fashionable, devious Coco! She knew Velvet had a crush on Jaune ever since he helped stop Cardin from bullying her. She didn't know the full details, but she knew he was a major factor in stopping the brute and his gang.

Now here she was, arming out to go all out, toe-to-toe with the boy her near-exploding heart had been set on. Should she go easy on him, or would he think she was too weak? If she went all out, would he be intimidated by her? One wrong move, and her love life would end before it could begin!

She shook her head and took a deep breath. There was nothing she could do now. Everything had been set in stone. She was going to go out into the arena and get face-to-face with the boy she had been thinking about for the past three weeks, three days, twelve hours, and seven minutes.

She just hoped she didn't cry before the end of this.

---------------------------------------------------

Jaune watched as Velvet approached, her camera attached to her side, on her belt. The girl was usually a timid sort, but being in her combat gear must have had an effect in her. In fact, she looked so ready to fight, her face reddened at the fight before it began. He was so nervous!

It was times like this when he had to say something to make things easier for him. Something to break the ice and calm his frayed nerves. He tried with Cardin, both out of class and, albeit at the start of the school year, in class.

"I'm, uh, actually glad we're sparring today." Jaune said.

"Really?" Velvet's ears perked up straight. "Why is that, Jaune?"

"Well, I was tired of getting thrashed around by someone as big as Cardin, so-"

"So you think this is going to be easier?" She smiled widely, though it made her look a little awkward.

"W-Well, no, not really." Jaune gulped. "It's just, he's a big, beefy guy, and-"

"And I'm a weak, little girl. Is that it?"

"Begin!" Professor Goodwitch announced.

"No, I'm just saying saying that takes me down in one swing, and you-" Jaune blinked and her knee was moving at 100 miles a minute. He cursed himself and his big mouth.

---------------------------------------------------

Velvet was furious! He has the gall to call her weak after everything she's been through? The bullying from Team CRDL? The sexual harassment from her supposed peers? The haunting failure on her mission to Lower Cairn?

She was done being the weak, little bunny. Now she was going to show everyone how strong she really is! Launching herself like a missile, her right knee leading, she crashed directly into Jaune's face. He fell backward, reaching for his nose.

Velvet pinned his wrist with her right, and his opposite forearm with her left. She smashed her left shin into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Her free hand clenched into a fist and jabbed his pretty face three times. She rolled backwards into a combat stance, hopping on her heels, the balls of her feet touching the ground.

"Get up!" She barked. "Get up and take it like Cardin would!"

Meanwhile, Cardin tugged at his collar in the bleachers. Everyone stared, though a few glared, directly at the tall student. He let out a weak chuckle, excusing himself to the restroom. Professor Goodwitch waved him off, her eyes on the match. He bolted through the doors.

"Fine!" Velvet shouted. "I'll just come over there and make you stand up!" She stomped towards him, fury in her eyes, but tripped just before reaching him and fell on top of him. Her senses soon returned and she was staring face-to-face with Jaune, whose black eye had healed perfectly.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she looked at him. His face was radiant, like looking into the most beautiful light. Like staring into the face of an angel, she could not bare to behold him for very long.

Everything went black, and she fell forward.

---------------------------------------------------

Velvet awoke in the infirmary. Wearily, she blinked the tiredness from her eyes. It was dark, and the only light was the glow of the shattered moon from outside. But it was enough light for her eyes to adjust and see Jaune, sleeping next to her in the other bed. He looked so peaceful, and it made her heart flutter.

"Jaune," she sighed, "I am so very sorry about today. I took what you said to personally, and I, well, I lost my temper. The truth is I didn't want to fight you because..." Velvet then swallowed the dry lump in her throat. It was now or never. "It was because I really like you. I don't really know why myself, but when I think about you, I suddenly feel very happy, and I want to share that happiness with you." Velvet sighed. "But there's no point now. You're probably more scared of me than Cardin, and I can't blame you. I did beat the tar out of you, and-"

Velvet heard a snicker from his bed. She looked closer. He was smiling at her, one eye open. She felt heat rush to her face.

"Sorry, sorry." Jaune whispered. "I didn't mean to interrupt. What was it you were saying about beating me up?"

[eddieredmayneargentinablog]

"Eddie Redmayne Transforms (Again)" Vanity Fair (09/12/2022)

"In a wide-ranging sitdown in Toronto, the Oscar winner goes deep on his process, his tensely brilliant turn in The Good Nurse, and changing his priorities going forward"

"Eddie Redmayne came into The Good Nurse, his first non-franchise film since the COVID-19 pandemic took hold, knowing that he needed to pull off a tricky role: Charlie Cullen, the real-life serial killer whose reputation as a compassionate nurse belied a sociopathic, murderous habit of killing dozens, maybe hundreds of patients. In Tobias Lindholm’s deliberate Netflix thriller, which costars Jessica Chastain as Charlie’s close colleague-turned-adversary and premiered Sunday night at the Toronto International Film Festival, Redmayne is disarmingly sweet and affecting in his loneliness—and then, in a corker of a final scene, completely frightening.

It’s another transformation for an actor who’s made a habit of them—winning Oscars (The Theory of Everything) and Olivier Awards (Cabaret) for comprehensive inside-out work. Redmayne has balanced these rich kinds of roles, of late, with the Fantastic Beasts franchise, the third film of which was released earlier this year. As he comes off what he describes as a career-best experience in The Good Nurse, with another performance likely to court some awards attention, the 40-year-old actor knows he has some options and has come to a new kind of conclusion for himself. As he tells me in a wide-ranging interview from his Toronto hotel: He’s finished compromising.

Vanity Fair: It’s safe to say you’re associated with relatively heroic roles. Certainly not ones that are this dark. Did The Good Nurse appeal in that way, or feel like going to a darker place than you typically do?

Eddie Redmayne: The truth is, you do a load of work before anyone sees any of the work you've done. So I did all these films for years: I did a film called Savage Grace with Julianne Moore, in which I played a guy called Anthony Bacon who killed his mother. I did a film called Hick that has 5% on Rotten Tomatoes, in which I played a Texan meth addict pedophile.

That's dark.

[Laughs] So I've done all these films, no one's seen them—in some cases, fortunately. But then of course you do a film that you become known for and then that's the world. Without you knowing it, that's the trajectory you get taken on for a while. The truth is I hadn't been looking for something specific—every script, I just react to what is presented in front of me. But I do like the idea that a lot of the characters I played have empathy as something inherent to them. What I found intriguing about Good Nurse is this was someone who seemingly had empathy and then weaponized that empathy in a way that was terrifying.

When I spoke to the real Amy [Loughren, a coworker of Cullen's who acted as an informant to law enforcement, played in the film by Chastain] she said this is two different people—“I only met the murderer Charlie Cullen once.” We’d talk endlessly about his humanity and his kindness and his gentleness and his self-deprecating humor. How he would slag off his own sort of existence. Having someone tell you that—like, the audience should never think, “How did Amy not sense this?”

It's exactly that balance—understanding how she did get so close to him, but also not necessarily sympathizing too much with him, which is a tricky line to walk. Did you think about that?

A lot. That was something Tobias and [screenwriter] Krysty Wilson-Cairns were thinking about at length. We had a month of rehearsal, which was wonderful—Jessica and Tobias and I. You can do that thing that's gotten rarer and rarer, which is just work through a script. Particularly with a character as delicate as Charlie, you need that. It's something I find inherently easier in theater, when you have months of rehearsal and it's the director's vision and you are telling their version of the story. More and more with film, when you come in for a day or you have no rehearsal and you meet the person, basically you've created these things in a vacuum.

So with that time, and I imagine some prep beforehand as well, how did you find your way into Charlie? Once again for you, there’s the physicality, the voice work, the facial expressions.

I love this question! It's the part that I enjoy the most. You had Charles Graeber's book called The Good Nurse, which is encyclopedic—and 70% of it is about Charlie Cullen before you even meet him in this movie. You have his upbringing, you have his damage. You have the fact that he first tried to kill someone, one of his sister's boyfriends, who may or may not have abused him when he was seven years old, and then tried to kill himself when he was seven years old. The fact that he, when he was 15 years old, his mom died. Then he went and joined the Navy and passed all the rigorous psychiatric tests.

It's not documentary and you're never going to get there. Often, other artists' interpretations are quite interesting. With period pieces, I used to go to the National Portrait Gallery to look at paintings or glean anything you can from anywhere. So, Charles Graeber described Charlie as looking like a “question mark.” That was so revelatory to me because it was not only a physical thing, which you can see in all the footage; it's just this blankness that's there. Then Michael Buster, who's a brilliant dialect coach I've worked with for years, he and I worked listening to Charlie's voice, trying to get a little of that sort of New Jersey-specific way of speaking. There are a few phone calls and things that we had that we could reference. Alexandra Reynolds is this amazing dancer that I first worked with on Theory of Everything—she came and I spent a day showing her all the footage I had. She does this brilliant thing of helping with the physical through something emotional: It felt like all of his tension was being held up by the nape of his neck, as if he's being held up.

I imagine you’ve done this kind of intensive work before. What about the discipline, that particular process, did you need to learn along the way? Because obviously it’s very involved.

Yes. When I was cast in Theory of Everything, [director] James Marsh said, “This does slightly live or die in your performance.” I remember having the confidence to go, “Okay, that's terrifying. So if that's the case, I need help. And this is what I need. I need a movement coach, I need a voice coach, and I need to spend four months prepping.” Beforehand I’d never have had the audacity to ask for that. What it's made me realize over the years is that's what I need. I have friends who can go from job to job and they're fucking brilliant in every single one. The ones where I do that, you see my need, unfortunately, for that long runway. What it meant with this one was that I felt like I knew what the building blocks would have to be. One of the things I enjoy about acting is that constant conflict between control and chaos. And that's what I also think Charlie is. He was incredibly control-freaky and precise, mixed with just erupting out into the world. I find in acting, there's an element of that.

With all that work you’re going completely outside of yourself, and you’re known for doing that as an actor. You’ve said the choice to do The Danish Girl, in hindsight, was a mistake. In terms of the notion of any actor can play anything, where do you see that limit now for yourself?

Very good question. The answer is, I don't have an answer for it. Every part that I'm offered at the moment, I take at face value. I wrestle with the decision myself. I hold two separate ideas that I believe should be able to be held in the same conversation, which is that I hate the idea of limiting artists or actors, because that's what we do, while at the same time realizing there are many marginalized communities who have not had a seat at the table in our industry. Until there is a rebalance, these conversations will continue and should continue happening. I can't give you a hard and fast answer because each role, I now sit and look through that prism.

You mentioned valuing the rehearsal time for Good Nurse and finding that increasingly doesn’t happen in movies. I, of course, think of your other 2022 movie. Based on just what you've shared with me so far, it does sound like your kind of process would not be as conducive to the system of studio moviemaking, necessarily.

On the first Fantastic Beasts, I went in with that same process and said, “Look, this is how I like to work,” and [director] David Yates was all for it. And he allowed an openness of process. For example, traditionally on these film sets, the visual effects department is kept well away from the actors. For me to interact with these creatures, I need to know what these artists creating these things are thinking. If we're kept at arm's length, then that's not helpful. David was wonderful. Rather than him going, “Oh, Eddie, the way we're going to do it on set is there's going to be a man with a tennis ball,” he was like, “What do you want? What do you need?” So I think if the creatives behind it are up for keeping that sense of camaraderie, that is possible on big scale films. The problem is time, and everyone’s time, and money.

This was the first time Tobias had made a Hollywood film, and every week he would assemble the Good Nurse cast and the crew, and talk through what had happened in the script that week. Someone on the crew or the cast would give a small gift, a box of chocolates or something, to someone else on the crew that had helped them that week. A costume supervisor giving something to a gaffer. It reminded us of this sense of company. It made us all feel like we were working on something for the same purpose. Now, of course, on the scale of Fantastic Beasts or something like that, you just can't have that. Sometimes you don't meet the rest of the cast until it's the premiere or you don't meet a load of the creatives. And I have missed that.

So is this kind of experience what you want to have now going forward?

Yeah. My experience through The Good Nurse, creatively, and then through Cabaret, which I've just finished in London and was a passion project for years and I helped put together—it was fucking hard work, but I loved every minute. It was going from playing this very introverted character in Charlie to this sort of extroverted, placeless character. Both experiences were very fulfilling creatively. [Pause] It made me not want to compromise.

I did see, at the Zurich Film Festival, you're receiving their version of the lifetime achievement award.

I read the words “lifetime achievement,” which made me go, “Oh, fuck. I knew I was old, but really?” [Laughs] But I'm very grateful.

But it's a huge thing for an actor who is 40 years old.

Stop laughing!

I mean it in a positive way! You’re young!

[Laughs] Yeah, I'm not sure, though, if I have a vast amount of achievement. I’m so excited to go back to that festival because I went with Savage Grace which was another passion project for me and it was one that I fought really hard to get made. I remember going. It was the first film festival I'd ever been to and it was very, very special. So to go back, having not played a serial killer for probably about 15 years, will be interesting.

You’ve brought up that project a few times now—does it feel like a full-circle moment?

I found myself in the press the past couple of days talking about how the Good Nurse book was our bible, going, “I remember…”—like I heard myself say those words before. That was a line I used during Savage Grace because there was an excellent book about that. Then two phenomenal red-headed actresses, Julianne Moore and Jess Chastain. And I do remember the night at the Oscars when Julianne and I both won. I remember the frenzied craziness of that night—you can't really take anything in because there's too much adrenaline—but Julianne was like, “Maybe someone will watch our film now!”

Savage Grace was also a few years before Theory of Everything, so it was before you learned what to ask for, in those kinds of parts, as you said.

And the only time I'd worked close to someone who was playing a real person that was sort of transformative had been Michelle Williams, when we'd done My Week with Marilyn. Michelle had chosen to work I think specifically the way that Marilyn had worked: She had a voice coach, a movement coach. I thought that was interesting. So I'd seen something in the process of being active as an actor rather than just going, “I've got the job and I'll do what I do.” You can actually ask for these things that may feel old-school, but they're worth it.

📸 "Vanity Fair Studio" by Sebastian Kim

[theladyofterror]

How many times have he already lost in beetle wars? As one who doesn't accept defeat and has his pride beyond anyone's reach, Itto has been searching for more Onikabutos. It just also happens that he read some kind of ritual in a light novel. Perhaps it'll help him claim victory in his next fight if he does the same, only using those beetles as medium. He might be kinda desperate that he did the ritual later that night. Maybe it'll summon him the strongest Onikabuto he could use in his next battle?

From her home, Cairn could feel someone or something trying to summon her. Though, it felt... Off. Something was definitely wrong with whatever was going on with that particular summon, and now she was just curious. So, she stood up, smoothed out her dress, and opened a portal to take her there.

When she arrived, on the opposite side of the summoner, she looked down and saw... Beetles. Just a bunch of beetles, and a rather large guy. How did he manage to call to her with a bunch of beetles? Was this a prank? Was it a joke? Either way, she needed to know.

"Beetles... How did you summon me with beetles, of all things?"

[allovertheworldblog]

Journey across Australia

Before I left New Caledonia I tried to figure out how I’d travel around Australia and how much of it I’d be able to see.

I ended up with the conclusion that Australia is one big country and that it’s expensive too.

One bus company website I was looking up was quoting over $300 AUD to travel from Brisbane to Cairns.

I was in shock.

When I got to Brisbane I got to talking to other backpackers.

Some had used busses to travel up and down the coast, others had used websites to find other travelers and share expenses, hire car costs and petrol.

That seemed like a good idea.

In the meantime I was in Brisbane, capital of the State of Queensland.

The city was hosting annual Brisbane Festival.

Many of the events held during the festival were paid, but some weren’t, the fun ones.

A free nightly light and laser show was held on the river front. 

One day I happened to see an ad by an Irish guy who was going all the way across the country.

Was he mad?, was the trip even possible?

I met up with him, he seemed like a decent guy.

We set off a few days later.

On September 13th 2011 we leave Brisbane at 06.25.

Traffic in the city is busy enough. 

We see the first kangaroo early in the morning when the day is still beginning then nothing but dead ones on the side of the road.

Kangaroo are a nocturnal animal, something I didn’t know before. 

The number of vehicles on the road become less as the day goes on.

We pass through Warwick and Goondiwindi.

After that we enter the State of New South Wales.

We decide to call it a night in the small village of Louth, which is in the middle of nowhere, literally. 

The village, I’m not sure if you can even call it that, has a population of 34 people.

I ask the landlady in the pub (that is also a restaurant, Royal Flying Doctors contact point, shop, meeting place) if Louth is the world or if the world is something that happens somewhere else.

'No’, she assures me Louth is definitely part of the world.

Earlier when we were driving into Louth with the sun going down the kangaroo had been visible on the road and in the fields beside it, live kangaroo, jumping pretty high.

That night we sleep in the car.

I wake a couple of times with the cold, my nose is fit to fall of it’s so cold.

We set off the next day at 06.20, again with live kangaroo jumping about the place. We drive through Broken Hill and pass into the State of South Australia. 

An older couple who are travelling in the opposite direction stop and ask if we need any help when we have some car trouble.

They’re on their way home after spending three and a half months touring around the country in their caravan, a common enough sight. 

They’re only going home as they want to see their grandkids again. They put us back on the road.

That evening we stop in Kimba, which they say is 'halfway across Australia’.

The caravan park which charges $10 AUD per person is a welcome sight, with free showers included. 

The next day we set off at 06.05. We come to Ceduna on the ocean, later we cross the Nullarbor Plain, the Treeless Plain.

At the border into the State of Western Australia (WA) we’re questioned if we have any fruit, as there’s a prohibition on bringing it over the border in WA. 

Mark, the Irish guy I’m travelling with, describes the inspector on the border as a 'cross wee woman’.

He was that alright.

That night we set down in another caravan park.

But in this one everything costs extra, no free shower. 

The next morning we set off at 05.00 to try to get the final leg done in that day.

We stop at the fly-ridden Head Of The Great Australian Bight to catch a glimpse of some whales.

Mark leaves me off in the old mining town of Norseman and I catch a bus to Kalgoorlie, where I connect with the train that takes me to Perth.

On the train I buy perfectly ugly overpriced microwave meal that hasn’t even been heated properly. 

We get to Perth just before 22.00.

The hostels are full and I have to check in to a hotel.

This isn’t doing anything to make me like Perth.

Thanks once again Mark if you’re reading this, it was a great trip and a great way to see the real Australia.

[gumnut-logic]

How Gordon got there first was no mystery. Virgil was just too damned tired after three rescues in a row and Scott had been tied up with Tracy Industries for most of the day. Grandma could possibly have been on it if she hadn’t been filling in for John who had broken out his exo-suit to yank a couple of free floaters out of the sky.

He was still muttering about idiots and safety. His mood was not improved by the fact Grandma insisted he come down for the night so he could be counted.

Consequently, his muttering also included cursing bureaucracy even though Virgil knew census night was a favourite of the astronaut.

Perhaps Gordon got to the form first because he knew everyone else was tired and grumpy and needed a kick in the pants. Virgil had to admit with a fond thought that his little brother was prone to throwing joke bombs amongst them when the mood was through the floor.

Virgil had no issues wondering why Alan wasn’t the one poking at the form. Their resident teenager wasn’t interested at all.

“Okay, guys. What is our address? What did we put last time?”

Alan didn’t even look up from his game. “Tracy Island.”

Gordon, who was sitting at Dad’s desk, staring at the holographic form, hesitated. “Did Dad register that with the powers that be?”

“What?” Alan really wasn’t paying any attention at all.

Virgil sighed. He was sitting on the couch with one of his uniform boots on his lap attempting to pick out several penetrating objects out of the sole. His last rescue had been a collapsed factory and he was still trying to work out what exactly it was that they made that could penetrate his specialist footwear.

Fortunately, despite multiple incursions, he only had a scratch on his left foot, more an annoyance than anything, but these objects were frustrating and suspicious.

“Dad did all the right things. Tracy Island is the official name now.” The pliers weren’t quite gripping the piece of metal properly. The grip slipped and Virgil swore.

“Now? What was it called before?”

“Deserter’s Rock.” Scott strode in from the kitchen, a coffee in hand, and grimace on his face. His usually perfect hair was scruffy, as if he had been running his hands through it.

Virgil frowned up at him. “You okay?”

His brother took the steps down into the lounge and sighed. “Nothing a holiday won’t fix.” It was Scott’s turn to frown. “What’s with the boot?”

“Deserter’s Rock? Really?”

It was John who answered, very much like Alan, staring into his tablet and barely paying attention. “Really. Three sailors were stuck here for months. Only one survived. That’s why there is a cairn on Tracy Peak.”

“I thought that was a pile of rocks put there by Dad.” Gordon seemed genuinely surprised. “You mean there are two dead guys on the Island?”

“Along with their ghosts, yeah.” John still didn’t look up.

“Ghosts?” Alan did look up at that, eyes wide. “What ghosts?”

“The one’s who keep stealing my Bailey’s ice cream.”

“Oh.” Alan went back to playing his game, his eyes definitely not darting between John and Gordon at all.

“Okay, moving on…so where do I put ‘Tracy Island’ in this thing? It’s not a suburb, state or territory…do we have a postcode?”

“It’s a locality. Shove it in there.” Virgil grit his teeth and yanked hard at the piece of metal embedded in his boot. A grunt and a flex of heavy lifting muscles and…it didn’t move at all. What the hell?

“Okay, whatever.” Gordon half sung ‘Tracy Island, Kermadec Ridge, South Pacific Ocean’ to himself as he entered it into the form. At least he was being specific. Virgil glared at his boot.

“Next. Who gets to be head of household? Oh, the Householder?” A pause in which Virgil poked at his boot, Scott sipped his coffee with closed eyes, Alan killed three zombies with a grin and John sat motionless still staring at his tablet.

“Okay, then. It’s me.” Gordon grinned to himself.

Nobody looked up, but all four other brothers said simultaneously and in chorus. “It’s Grandma.”

Virgil flexed his hand and picked up his pliers again. Peripherally, he watched Gordon’s shoulders drop. Even the Fish couldn’t argue with that.

“Fine. It’s Grandma.” He reached up and touched the box to open that section of the form. “Where is she anyway?”

Virgil tried to get a better grip on another chunk of metal in his boot. “Yoga. Don’t disturb her.” Yoga was Grandma’s mindfulness time and after today, it was well overdue. “Leave her be.”

“I wasn’t going to. Sheesh. So, name. Sally Tracy.” He typed in her name. “Person two?”

“Scott Tracy.” Okay, so Virgil had a bit of a thing about this. His brother deserved acknowledgement for everything he had done.

Gordon glared at him. “And so I guess the rest of us are in age order?”

Virgil flipped his boot over. “Whatever floats your boat, fishboy.” A glance in Scott’s direction and he had to wonder if his brother had fallen asleep, he was that still. The coffee mug in his hand was the only proof of consciousness.

Virgil fought the urge to save it. “Scott, you wanna go to bed?”

“Wha-?” His brother sat up. “I’m fine.” Fortunately, he put the coffee mug down. The chances of Virgil having to treat burns tonight dropped significantly.

“How do you spell ‘Hackenbacker’?”

Virgil did not grace that with an answer as it was obviously a stupid question.

John was apparently on auto as he spouted off the required letters anyway while still staring at his tablet.

Gordon poked at the form in silence for a little while and Virgil wondered what on Earth he was entering. He trusted his brother. This was an official document, after all, but he was still Gordon.

“Okay, guys, I need your information.”

Beside Virgil, Scott ‘woke up’. “What, no questions about Grandma?”

Gordon frowned at his eldest brother. “I’ll have you know that I know our grandmother very well. We have a special kind of relationship.”

Alan snorted.

“What? You got something to say, sprout?” The fish glared at Alan enough to torch him on the spot.

“I’m just saying that after that time with Grandma’s diver’s license, you should know Grandma’s details very well. Her birthdate, her ancestry, her suit measurements…”

A starfish plushie suddenly had a very short career as a ninja star and bounced off Alan’s head. “Shut up, Alan.”

Their little brother only giggled more.

John, still staring at his tablet, raised an eyebrow. “Allie, Grandma baked some cookies yesterday. I think there are still some in the cupboard. Would you like some?”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Alan threw the plushie at his fish brother, missing completely, and went back to playing his game. There was muttering about Gordon making jokes but Alan not being allowed to.

Virgil sighed to himself.

“Scotty, what’s your age? It’s 2060 for reference. Oh, and your gender.”

All signs of sleep fell away and Scott sat up. “Gordon…” It was all warning.

“Hey, I’m just giving you the opportunity to offer an alternative. After all, tonight you look at least fifty-six.”

“I’m thirty-one and you know it.”

Gordon poked at the form. “Thirty-one years young. Got it.”

Scott grunted at him.

“Virg, are we telling the truth this time?”

“Depends on whether you want me to leave you in the ocean next time.” Why the hell couldn’t he get this out of his boot?

“To threat level already, you are grumpy tonight.”

“Gordon…” Virgil echoed Scott from earlier to the note.

“Johnny?”

“No one named ‘Johnny’ lives here.”

Gordon signed. “John Glenn Tracy, how would you like me to record your age?”

“Accurately.”

“Fine.”

“If I say I’m thirty-two, do I get to go higher up on the form?” Alan looked hopeful.

“If you like.” Gordon moved things around on the display.

Virgil gave up. The locality of Tracy Island was destined to be a statistical anomaly anyway. At least it would be an interesting one.

Besides, John would probably hack it later and fix it. The fact he had hardly protested so far was eminent proof of that security factor.

“Scotty, are you the husband or wife of Grandma?”

Scott rubbed his face and didn’t bother to answer, picking up his coffee again and burying his face in it.

Virgil just wished he would go to bed. The man was a zombie.

Gordon took the hint and was quiet for a little while. Virgil went back to tugging on his boot. Maybe he should take this down to his workshop.

The thought of actually working more had his shoulders slumping enough to alert Scott. The concerned and questioning look shot in his direction had Virgil sitting up a little straighter to fend it off.

“John, where should we put your usual place of residence?”

“Here.”

“But you live in space.”

“So do you.”

“Pedantic much?”

“As necessary. Tracy Island is home. Thunderbird Five is merely in our astronomical backyard, not to mention secret.”

Virgil looked up at that. It was a simple statement, but it was good to hear that John still considered Tracy Island home despite his multiple protests over the years.

“Fine. Secret space station wasn’t an option anyway. I could flub it and use Global One but then that would spark all those rumours about you and that captain all over again.”

“Gordon, I can hack your bank accounts.”

“Go for it.”

“I can also hack your fish tanks.”

The aquanaut shot to his feet. “You touch my tanks and you’re dead, spacehead.”

John didn’t react other than to smile just a little.

Their space brother could be a right royal ass when he wanted to be. Virgil sighed. “John, you know the rules.”

He shrugged. “Didn’t break any.”

“You touch my tanks, I’m spicing up your atmosphere on Five. I’m not kidding. I have fart gas resources even you can’t find.” Gordon was still on his feet and actually appeared angry.

John shuddered. “TMI, Gordo. Not interested in your gas capacity, honestly.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Calm down, Gords, John’s not doing anything to your fish tanks. He knows the rules, don’t you, John.” He arched a prompting eyebrow at his brother.

“Never said I didn’t.”

Definitely an ass.

“Gordon, calm down. You can put John’s relationship to you in as ‘nemesis’ if it makes you feel better.”

“I can only put in our relationship to Grandma. I wrote favourite grandson in yours.”

It was Virgil’s turn to shrug. “I’m not going to complain. Sit down and finish the form.”

His brother didn’t answer, but he did sit down, albeit still glaring at John.

John had gone back to his tablet, doing who knew the hell what.

Definitely an ass.

Virgil turned back to Gordon. “What’s the next question, Gords?”

The glare switched to Virgil for a second before turning to the form. “Where were we born?”

“Kansas.”

“I know that. What about Grandma, Brains and Kayo?”

“Space.” Alan said it with triumph.

“What?”

“Where John lives. Isn’t that what the question was?” Alan stared between his brothers.

“Go back to sleep, Alan.”

“Grandma was born in Kansas, Brains was born in India, and Kayo was born here.” Scott proved he was still awake by suddenly providing information enough to make Virgil jump.

Gordon poked at the form, but nothing further was said on that front. Everyone knew Kayo was sensitive about her past, and while she wasn’t in the room, she would find out and partially kill anyone responsible.

“Kayo is here tonight, isn’t she?”

Virgil yanked on his boot again, slipped and managed to elbow Scott in the ribs. His brother grunted.

“Oh, shit, sorry. You okay?” He shoved the boot aside and the pliers along with it.

Scott eyed him and rubbed his side. “That answers your question, Gordon. Kayo is on a conference call with Captain Rigby.”

Virgil glared at Scott.

Gordon eyed the both of them. “Is there something you two aren’t telling the class?”

“Shut up, Gordon.” Virgil glared at Scott a moment longer, enough to have his brother’s expression fall into one of concern. Grabbing his boot again, Virgil went back to wrestling with embedded metal. Damned specialised rubber was amazing when it protected him but when its tolerances were overrun, it was a pain to fix. Maybe he should ask Max to give it a yank. “What entertaining religion are you using this time, Gords?” Any attempt to get the conversation off this topic.

Gordon stared at him a moment, obviously still trying to work out what the hell happened there.

Scott was dead later; Virgil was going to make sure of it. Tired or not, he had crossed a line.

A sideways look in his eldest brother’s direction and it was obvious Scott realised that. Okay, maybe he could let it go. It had been a long day and they were all tired.

Probably should go to bed.

He went back to fighting with his boot.

Gordon was still staring but even the fish knew when to shut up apparently, because the next words out of his mouth were entirely religious.

“I’m worshiping Neptune this year.”

Alan frowned. “I thought you said that last time.”

“Dad wouldn’t let me.”

That brought the whole room to a standstill. Last census was ten years ago. Flashback to that time brought everything that had changed into the bright glaring light. The biggest change being Dad’s absence. But even more, ten years ago they were still based in Kansas, IR was in development, but not yet a reality. Alan was only six, Gords eleven and with his body still intact…it was a completely different time. Virgil was still in college and had to fill in his own census form in Denver.

Gordon broke the looming silence with a determined smile. “This time the government gets the truth. Scott bows to the sky gods, Virg worships molemen, Johnny is a god, and Alan is Satan.

“Hey!” It was said by multiple brothers at once.

Only John remained calm. He even had a smile. “In that case, I want bagels every Sunday.”

“You get bagels every Sunday. Virg sends them up all the time.” Alan glared at his space brother – Alan did not like bagels.

John grinned wider. “I’ll take that as proof that I have at least one faithful worshipper.”

“Next time you can get your own bagels.” Virgil glared at his brother.

Gordon snorted. “Yeah, right, you old softie. John could blow up Two and you’d still send him his bagels.”

Virgil found himself glaring at Gordon again. It seemed to be a theme tonight. “Short pier, long walk, Gordon, go for it.”

He got a smirk for that. “Don’t mind if I do. A little night diving is quite spectacular around here.”

Virgil ignored him and went back to his boot…which he had made zero progress on for all the time he had been sitting here, damnit.

“Does Virgil ever ‘need someone to help with or be with him for self-care, body movement, or communication activities’?” Gordon typed into the form. “Before coffee.”

Virgil ignored him some more as Alan took the bait and snickered. “Better watch it, Gords. Won’t be long before ‘before coffee’ time kicks in. Look at him, he’s already brewing.”

The piece of metal in his boot finally shifted a little. Thank goodness.

“Long term health conditions.” Gordon slumped in his seat. “Well, isn’t this cheerful.”

“Just fill it in, Gordon.” Scott’s words were little more than a sigh.

That left a gaping silence. Gordon tapped a lot at the keyboard filling in far too much. More for himself, obviously, but then there was John and his space issues, and they all had been diagnosed with something on the list hanging above their father’s desk.

Except Alan, who could not be left out. Virgil pretended to not be able to read the word ‘zombification’ next to his little brother’s name.

“Schooling? Oh man, John, you can write all the letters after your name. I can never remember them all.”

“Not a problem.” The astronaut poked at his tablet and the hologram in front of Gordon sprouted half the alphabet.

“Really? Did you get a new one?” He stared at John. “When did you get time for that?”

John shrugged. “Made time.”

“What’s this one for?”

“Oceanography.”

“What?”

“You were in the ocean. I didn’t know enough to help. So I fixed the problem.”

Gordon just stared.

Virgil, of course, knew. He had been the one to field John’s version of panic the day he didn’t know enough to help Gordon. John was practical. He saw a problem, he fixed it. Oceanography wasn’t an obvious topic for the starman, but he was a genius and that genius could be applied where he wished it to be.

If Virgil had found himself helping John at a few points that intersected with his specialities along the way, he was just going to take a little comfort from being able to return the favour after years of borrowing his brother’s brains for other topics.

And besides, it had meant he had been able to spend a little extra time with John. Always a good thing.

Despite him being the occasional ass.

Gordon was still staring. “Is that why you bugged me to take you out in Four?”

John shrugged. “Partly. Didn’t mind spending a bit of time with you either. Good experience to familiarise myself with Four as well.”

The stare continued.

“Be careful you don’t catch any flies with your mouth open.”

The stare became a glare. “We’re talking about this. You and me.”

“Sure.”

Gordon looked like he didn’t know whether to yell at him or run over and hug his brother. Virgil was voting for the latter.

But everything was interrupted by a sudden snore and snort.

Virgil turned to Scott and found his brother startled awake, likely by his own snore.

“Wha-?”

“Scott, you need to go to bed.”

“I’m fine.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Do I need to pick you up and carry you?”

“I’m fine.” He waved Virgil away, sat up straighter and attempted to guzzle whatever was left of his probably cold coffee.

“Idiot.”

“What?”

“Go to bed.”

“No. We need to finish the census.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because I want to.”

“Why?”

“Can you stop that?”

“Can you go to bed?”

“No!”

“You need sleep.”

“I can manage my own health, thank you, Doctor Virgil.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I am an adult.”

“Sometimes.”

“Virgil!”

Gordon let off a loud snort. “That’s it. I’m putting you two in as married.”

“Gordon!” Both of them, in chorus. It was apparently a theme tonight.

“Well, you both argue like an old married couple, what can I do?”

“You can shut up and move onto the next question.”

Gordon poked his tongue out at Scott, but he didn’t stop grinning and Virgil was forced to hold back a smile himself.

Bratty little fish.

He was still smirking when he said, “Employment.”

“Oh god.” Scott sank back onto the couch and rubbed his face with his hands.

There followed a book’s worth of employment activities.

“Rocket surfing is not an occupation, Gordon.” Virgil sighed.

“Why not? Both Scott and Allie surf rockets.”

“Alan rides a rocket sled and Scott is just trying to give me grey hair.”

“Has he succeeded yet?” Bratty fish.

“None of your business.”

“So is International Rescue paid or unpaid work?” Gordon was frowning at the form.

“Unpaid.”  Scott’s tone was sharp.

“So are we unemployed, employed or self-employed?”

“Self-employed.”

“How much do you earn a year, Scotty?”

Their eldest brother paused as if calculating, but then threw up a hand. “Stuffed if I know.”

John snorted and rattled off a number.

“There isn’t enough space for that many zeros here, John.”

“Give me a moment.”

The display in front of Gordon flickered and each of their names received a variety of numbers…except for Alan.

“Hey, how come I don’t have any earnings?”

“You are a minor.” John spoke calmly, as if speaking to a minor.

“But I do stuff for Tracy Industries, I do.”

“All your income is held in trust, you know that.”

“Then who is paying for all that popcorn I bought this morning?”

Scott sighed. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to bust the bank.”

“We own the bank.”

Scott stared at John. “When did we buy a bank?”

“I bought it for your birthday last year but forgot to give it to you.”

“Oh.”

“I’m writing obscenely rich next to all our names. Oh, except for you, Allie. You’re a pauper.”

“Hey! You suck, Fishbrain.”

“Remember who might need to lend you money in the next couple of years…”

“While Gordon remembers who lent him money in the past, who still helps him with his finances, and who also is the one to fish him out of the ocean after every mission.” Virgil pinned Gordon with his eyes.

Gordon blinked. “You have a point.” A pause as a smile crept over his face. “Who was that again?”

The hologram of the census form wobbled as a lounge cushion flew through it and hit Gordon squarely in the face.

“Right on target. Hmm, I’ve still got it.” Scott blew imaginary smoke off a finger gun.

Unfortunately, Scott may have still had it, but he wasn’t the best marksman on this census form. The cushion rebounded via aquanaut and hit Scott squarely in the face with an oomph.

This forced both Virgil and Alan to come to his defence and for a full ten minutes after that, it was an all-out pillow fight between the brothers. Even John was drawn in as Gordon came up behind him and tried to stuff one down the back of his shirt.

Which wasn’t advisable since his gravity support was still in play. But then John was king of the noogie and immediately grabbed a head full of strawberry blond hair, dragged it down onto the couch beside him and made sure it received the full-on noogie treatment.

Gordon did squawk quite a bit.

An extreme one-on-one joust erupted between Scott and Alan. It was that determined that Virgil had to back out. Alan, being the terrier he was, managed to get Scott on his back on the lounge and sat on him pummelling him with pillows.

Virgil had suspicions that the game was rigged.

In any case, he had to find somewhere else to sit and tinker with his boot.

Eventually, Gordon found his way back to the census form. Scott was still on his back and apparently Alan had decided he preferred that his big brother stay that way by sitting on him and playing his computer game. Scott at least had a remaining cushion under his head, but one foot had taken out a pot plant and the other was hanging over the back of the sofa. His brother really was too tall for lying on the seating arrangements, but he didn’t seem to care.

With a bit of luck he might fall asleep.

“Okay, let’s finish this. How did you get to work today?” Gordon grunted. “This form has no rockets, planes, submarines or space elevators on it.”

“Tick the ‘other’ box and let them work it out.” John let out a yawn.

Virgil eyed him.

John screwed up his face and poked out his tongue.

Wha-“ Virgil blinked.

“Hey, Virg, how many hours did you work last week?”

That distracted him enough to turn to Gordon. “How the hell do I know?”

“You worked them. I bet you know your flight hours.”

“Today’s. Not last week. That was last week.”

“Eos, send Gordon last week’s record?”

The AI chimed in at her father’s request. “Yes, John.”

Another document appeared in front of Gordon. “Wow, that much? Really?”

“The documentation is correct as recorded.” Eos sounded a little miffed. But then she never particularly liked Gordon on the best of days.

His fault, of course.

“Virg, you win, but only by a bit over Scott and that was because he twisted his ankle on Monday.”

“Sprained, you mean.”

“Twisted.” It came from the couch and was strangled by a little brother.

“Sprained. He should have been off for several days, but he’s an idiot.”

“You can’t talk, Mr Bruised-not-cracked.”

“At least I’m not Cracked-not-broken.”

“Sure.”

Scott might have said more but Alan whacked him with a pillow. “You guys are idiots. Gords, John and I are lucky our grey hairs don’t show.” Alan growled. “I’m sixteen, for crying out loud, and I know more about hospitals than I ever wanted to. Look after yourselves, you morons.”

Silence hit the room again.

“Way to go, Allie. You tell ‘em.” Gordon’s words were honest.

Of course, Scott was devastated and immediately questioning all his life choices. Virgil wasn’t far behind, but Scott, in particular had a sensitive spot where Alan was concerned.

“Hey.” He reached out a hand and rested it on their little brother’s arm. “Talk to me, Allie.”

Alan growled again. “I’m fine as long as you two look after yourselves. We kinda need you, you know.”

Scott grabbed his little brother and dragged him down into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

Virgil sat with his boot in his lap needing to grab both his brothers but not wanting to interrupt their moment.

He shouldn’t have worried. A second later Gordon jumped over the back of the couch, landed beside him and grabbed him, dragging him sideways into an oomph of a hug. “Don’t worry, my dear wingman, we still love you even if you are an idiot.”

“Gordon…”

“Admit it, you want a hug.”

“Shut up.”

Gordon didn’t say anything further, but he did squeeze tighter.

“When you get to the questions on whether any of us looked after children, Gordon, tick yes for all of us.” John’s tone was as dry as a desert.

“Will do.” Gordon grinned at him.

Scott actually fell asleep after that. It was about time. Apparently, Alan made a great teddy bear.

Alan grumbled about that for days, but Virgil knew his little brother treasured his relationship with Scott and the fact he fell asleep as well was rather telling.

But that fact pretty much ended the census form filling for that night.

The next morning saw all of them out on an earthquake and it wasn’t until two days later that Gordon realised they hadn’t submitted the form.

Grabbing Scott and Virgil, he ran them through the last of the questions, landing on the definitions of their dwelling.

“How many registered motor vehicles do we have at this dwelling?”

“Er, none? We have no roads.” Virgil frowned at the obvious answer.

“Three rockets, two planes and a submarine don’t count?”

An arched eyebrow. “Does it say anything about planes? Tracy Two and Three are registered in Aotearoa.”

“Aotearoa is not the United States.”

“But they are still registered.”

Scott sighed. “Read the form properly, guys. It says exclude heavy vehicles.”

“Well, that strikes Virg off the list, but your ‘bird’s a pansy.”

That earned Gordon a mocking whack up the back of the head.

“Gords, just write zero. The intent is there.”

“Fine. We have no motor vehicles. Stupid form.” A sigh. “Okay, how many bedrooms do we have?”

Scott answered that one. “Ten.”

“I thought it was twelve.”

“One went to an art studio and the other to a music recording room.”

Gordon glared at Virgil. “Way to take over the house, bro.”

“And how many fish tanks do you have in how many rooms? Not to mention the chunk of vegetable garden we had to sacrifice for Rover’s pond?”

“Leave Rover out of this. That wasn’t his fault.”

Virgil snorted. “Not his.”

“Shut up.”

Scott sighed again. “We have ten bedrooms.” He scanned the rest of the form, which thankfully wasn’t very long. “We own the place outright, and yes, they can archive our information for our grandkids to access. Tick the boxes and get this sent so I can go get some lunch.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Scott growled but Gordon ignored him.

Boxes all ticked, he hit the submit button.

“This form has already been submitted. You may not submit it again.” Underneath was the date of the day before census night. “What the hell? How could we open it if - ” Scott hit his comms. “John!”

John’s hologram flickered up beside the misbehaving census form. “I’m between a hurricane in Bermuda and an avalanche in the Pyrenees. How may I help you?”

“What?!”

“Oh, the census form. Eos submitted that three days ago.” Their space brother was distracted a moment out of pick up range as Scott’s jaw dropped. “Needed to get it done before Gordon got his hands on it. Besides, we can’t guarantee we wouldn’t have been called out anyway, so I got it done beforehand.”

“Then why the hell were we going through the damned thing on census night?”

John blinked. “You had fun, didn’t you? We shared an evening together.”

Virgil joined both his brothers at staring at John.

The astronaut just smirked back at them. “You did a great job, Gordon. Thanks.” The smirk turned into a grin. “Thunderbird Five out.” His hologram disappeared.

Scott’s face curdled. “I’m going to kill him.”

Virgil let his shoulders drop and sighed. “You said that last time he did something like this, and he’s still kicking.”

“I’m soaking his underwear in saltwater.” Gordon had that fire in his eyes that usually preceded a Tracy Island Armageddon.

“Gords…”

“He played me, Virg. He knew what I would do and played me. He thinks I’m predictable!”

“Yeah, but he obviously did it for the right reasons.”

Virgil found himself the target of two glares. “What? You want a group hug or something? C’mere.” And he grabbed the both of them, wrapping his arms around them. “Happy Census Night.”

The grumbling was worth it.

-o-o-o-

[mageglory]

So I have recently seen Dragon Age: Redemption with the amazing @dalishious and boy if it wasn't an experience. But while we were laughing and commenting the decision to make a rewrite of the serie came up and I offered myself for the job as a fun writing exercise to start my blog. So here we go. This is made with the assumption that we are in the middle of Dragon Age 2 Act 1, because that's what I understood?

Dragon Age: Redemption (Of A Plot)

-The movie still starts as it does in canon, with Tallis doing a voiceover while looking dramatic, because that's the type of things Tallis does.

-The first difference is when Sarebaas (the villain) walks in to interrogate a prisoner elf. Instead of doing weird unknow magic, Sarebaas cut the elf palm and uses his blood to compel the elder elf to talk. So we estabilish a familiar narrative element since the start and don't have to suffer bad visual effects because blood magic is incospicuos

-Tallis still gets told by the qunari that she is Tallis again and there is a mission for her ecc, but the qunari also add that they intend to destroy the Sarebaas once reunited because he got corrupted by staying away from the Qun. They have no idea of Sarebaas plans, they just want to follow the Qun and would kill him even if he was loyal. (As seen in DA2)

-Tallis meets Cairn (the Templar) while handling the racist asshole with the necklace of elven ears and Cairn does his "leave him be he is my prisoner in the name of the Chantry". Cairn doesn't show any concern that the guy Tallis is handling has literal *elven ears* as a necklace, only that it's only his right to apprehend him and for separate reasons.

-Tallis mocks him for being a good church little soldier, that's fine. But she doesn't tell him she's qunari (why the fuck my Hawke wasnt informed but this bitchy Templar yes Tallis) and doesn't propose to work together at all. Cairn treathens Tallis, saying that Knight-Commander Meredith told him to recover the "escaped apostate" immediately and he has the authority to arrest her if she doesn't collaborate. He's the one who wants to "work together" but at HIS terms.

-Tallis quickly makes some cool rougue move and ends up with her daggers at Cairn troath, before telling him to say to Meredith hello and knocking him down. Then, with the informations she got from Necklace Racist GuyTM she leaves for the Dalish Camp. Since this is Kirkwall and there shouldn't be more than one dalish clan for area, the clan we meet is actually Clan Sabrae.

-While she is with the dalish, Tallis hears some yelling and sees Cairn somehow found her. She asks him how and he says that before being a templar he was helping his father, who used to hunt for their village, so he knows how to follow tracks and followed her here. She compliments him for being "not totally usless" and decides to tell the dalish to let him in saying her "he is with me, we are all elves so I garantee for him" bit.

-No they are not going to have a romance.

-Clan Sabrae is NOT IMPRESSED and tells her that while they accept any elf as part of the people, Tabris is a guest and qunari and doesn't has the trust of the clan. Surely not enough to guarantee for a Templar. In the end they let Cairn in (because plot) but they tell him he will be guarded by their ex First, who's visiting, and will have to leave his weapons to them.

-Being an usless Templar, Cairn is all like "how dare you I work with the authority of the chantry, savages" until a dalish snaps at him that their patience is growing thin and he can enter weaponless or not enter at all. Cairn makes A Face and accepte, saying that he has to complete his mission and his superiors made clear the importance of the task (yes Meredith yelled at him. *world smallest violin plays*)

-The Keeper is busy doing... Something. Maybe she's talking to Audacity and it's an hint to the events of DA2, but they as said before they can talk to their ex First and also the actual First.

-Merrill cameo! :D But what the hell is she doing here? Well Merrill, because she is good like that, cares for her clan even if she's not part of it anymore and came to help when she heard what was going on. Hawke and co are busy on adventuring atm, so it's just her tiny badass self.

-Merrill obviously infodumps them about the mask of Fen'Harel, because Merrill is a badass. Instead of saying that they don't know what it does she says the Mask has many powers and it was always treated carefully because you do not call the Dread Wolf without risks. She says usually the Mask was used to amplify the power of a mage wearing it in moment when there was great need of consulting the Fare.

-Cairn probably says some shit about the mask having to be destroyed or demons but let's just assume that's 90% of his dialogue and ignore him. Maybe Merrill gives him a verbal burn, she's good at that.

-There is still a missing mage from the clan, the elf who was interrogated by Sarebaas at the start and he was Keeper Marethari's *brother*, but was took away from the Templars. (Or hell even just a respected magical elder, as you want)

-They also talk to the new First of the Clan after Merrill left, and it's our boy Josmael *immediate applaues*. Josmael says all he says in canon and how Sarebaas kidnapped his beloved while stealing the mask the clan. He teams up with Cairn and Tallis to rescue her. We also discover that he's one of the few people in the clan who stil likes Merrill and since she left and he was made the new First he has been anxious about having to fill her hyper-competent shoes.

-Yeah that was just me using the movie to give Merrill a friend in her people so what.

-Merrill says she has to return to the city but tells Josmael to keep her updated and he thanks her for caring.

-Cairn and Tallis say to Josmael that he cant come cuz they can't babysit him to which he answers with gentle determination that he doesn't need any babysitting and shows him magic.

-Cairn can't work with apostates blablabla.

-Tallis calls out Cairn for his anti-magic sentiment and says her "people" don't judge magic (which is bullshit but from her pov is the truth). Then she stabs Josmael to make him heal himself and prove himself to them.

-I take a pause because the water in the bath is getting cold and this post is getting too long, so i'll post this rewrite in parts.

[munstysmind]

SKYPE - Maddison - An Original Story

WARNING/S: Mentions of assault, stalking, feeling unsafe, abuse

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE USED IN ANY CAPACITY

Divider by @firefly-graphics

SERIES MASTERLIST

please let me know if you would like to be added to a tag list

{DECEMBER 2012}

Travis had been arrested and charged with breach of a protection order and assault with a deadly weapon. His bail had been set at $500,000. He couldn’t afford anywhere near that so he was still in custody.

He had stupidly admitted to the NYPD that he had been stalking Maddie and Sebastian. Sebastian had lost his mind when they had been told.

Even though Travis wasn’t leaving lockup anytime soon, Sebastian still took out a restraining order against him. They’ve also moved to a bigger apartment in a completely different building. Sebastian isn’t taking any chances, especially with Maddie’s safety.

As much as it frustrates her, she knows she can’t live alone, not yet, not after everything that’s happened.

Sitting one her bed with her legs crossed under her, Maddie puts her headphones on and stares at her laptop in front of her while she waits for the Skype call to her brother to connect.

It’s the first time she’s been able to video chat him in over a month because his ship has been god knows where doing classified Navy stuff.

After what seems like an eternity her brothers face finally appears on the screen.

“Pip!” her brother says with a smile on his face.

“Hi” she says, the same smile spread across her own face.

“Wait… where are you?”

“New York”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why?”

“It just looks different, that’s all”

“Oh, I’m in our new place”

“Our?”

“Me and Seb’s”

“Oh, when you said you were staying with him I didn’t realise you’d moved in together. When did this happen?”

“Like a month ago”

“Oh OK. So living with Seb, how long is it gonna be is it like this a permanent thing or…”

“I don’t know” she shrugs, her eyes looking over the top of her laptop screen out the open door of her bedroom to fix onto Sebastian, who was sat on the couch watching TV “I don’t feel safe on my own right now so”

“You feel safe with him” her brother says, already knowing

“Yeah”

Matt gives his sister a sympathetic look. It makes his blood boil thinking about what she went through. He’s beyond grateful that Sebastian has been there for his little sister.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m OK. It’s just each day as it comes. I haven’t had a nightmare in a week so that’s progress I guess”

“Have you spoken to someone ”

“Seb, Jensen…”

“Maddie, you know what I mean”

“Yeah”

“Have you?”

“No. I can’t. Not, not yet. It’s…”

“Hey, it’s OK, you don’t have to do anything until you’re ready… what time is it for you?”

“7:30, pm. You?”

“9:30”

“Where are you anyway?”

“We’re docked just outside of Cairns”

“How long?”

“Few days. Just to restock then we’re headed back out”

“How long have you got left?”

“This deployment?”

“Yeah”

“3 months”

“You gonna go back?”

“I’ve already signed up”

“Of course you have… don’t you ever get sick of it?”

“The Navy?”

“Being away from home for months on end”

“I could ask you the exact same thing Pip”

“Mmm, it’s a little different Matt”

“Is it though?”

“Yeah, it is. You’re in a warship in the middle of the ocean defending our country. I play dress up and make believe and hunt monsters on TV. There’s no comparison Matt”

“Well I for one am glad you do what you do otherwise we wouldn’t have Supernatural night in the mess hall every week. Ali’s a fan favourite with the crew”

“Wait… you told me there were only a few guys that watched”

“There was, yeah”

“What do you mean was, how many are we talking about now?”

“I don’t know, like 50ish”

“Oh god, what did you do?”

“I may have um, lets just say some of them needed persuasion”

“Matt, you can’t keep forcing people to watch Supernatural just because I’m in it”

“I don’t see why not”

“MATTHEW!”

“OK fine, I’ll back off”

“Thank You”

“So when you going back to filming?”

“Second week of Jan”

“Why don’t you seem happy about it?”

“No I am, its just… I don’t know. I… I guess I’m just worried”

“About?”

“Everything. So much had happened and” she pauses, thinking of her next words carefully “My brains my own worst enemy right now. Like even the thought of going home right now terrifies me Matt”

“You’re not going home for Christmas, are you?”

She lets out a shaky breath before she answers her brother’s question

“No… I want to, I really do, I just… I need quiet right now and our family…”

“… is the complete opposite”

“Pretty much. I just don’t need all the pity or questions, you know? Or the judgement… especially from Jamie”

“He is the last person on earth who should be judging”

“That doesn’t fucking stop him”

“I know. Have you talked to Mum and Dad?”

“Yeah”

“And?”

“They’re not happy about it but they understand”

She runs her tongue over her teeth and quietly scoffs, butting her bottom lip at the memory of her Mum sobbing in the phone after she told her she wasn’t coming home.

“MADDIE!”

“What?!”

“You just zoned out, is everything OK?”

“Mm hum”

“Maddie, please talk to me”

“It’s just… I loved him Matt… I really loved him. There’s a part of me still does and I don’t know why”

“Those feelings don’t just go away overnight Mads, it’s gonna take time”

“I… I never thought I’d be here, you know. I never thought that something like this would happen”

“I know Maddie. You know we didn’t like him that much because of how he treated you at times but none of us thought he was capable of doing what he did”

“Thing is… looking back, here were so many warning signs Matt, and I chose to ignore them. I convinced myself that they were all in my head. If I’d have just trusted my instincts, it wouldn’t have happened”

“HEY, none of this is on you do you understand me, none of it. What happened is not your fault”

“It doesn’t feel that way”

“Lieutenant Holden” a voice off screen says, getting her brothers attention

“Yes?” Matt says, turning towards whoever it is who’s talking to him

“The captain is requesting you on deck sir”

“I gotta go” Matt’s sighs slightly frustrated. His crew knew how eager he was ti see his sister, even if it was only over a computer screen.

“I know” she says sadly giving him a small smile

“Hey, I’ll message you later OK”

“OK. I love you”

“Love you too Pip”

She closes her laptop and removes her headphones before she lets out a loud sigh, resting her face in her hands.

She misses her big brother terribly. The last time she had seen him in person was her birthday the previous year, 18 months ago. She hates being so far from her family back home.

“You OK?” she hears Sebastian say, pulling her out of her thoughts. Looking up she sees him looking at her from the couch

“Yeah, just tired” she lies, rubbing her face with both hands. He gives her a look that lets her know he knows she isn’t being completely honest with him. She just shakes her head, tears starting to well in her eyes.

He wants to nothing more than to go and wrap her in a hug but her doesn’t, he just gives her a small, sympathetic smile before turning back to watch his show knowing not to push the topic.

TAGLIST

@aussieez

[king-paimon]

HnK Post Chapter 95 Thoughts: 3 Months later...

Hi guys…. I’m so sorry for being away for so long and delaying this post. I can’t believe March is already almost over. This year is going by way too quickly, but honestly, is that really a surprise? I was working on this post back in January and was planning on posting it then, but life has been more busy than usual for me. I still feel really bad for promising to post this and not being able to keep it. But here it is now! I don’t know how many people will see it since the Houseki no Kuni tags have been pretty quiet, but you know what? I’m kind of glad I didn’t post this post right away because I wanted to properly talk about my feeling about the chapter, the series, and Ms. Haruko Ichikawa herself, and doing that when I was still emotionally charged wouldn’t have done this post justice. And though I don’t think my thoughts overall has changed too much, I’d still like to share my thoughts, if you are interested in hearing them. 

This will be another really, really long post, so be prepared! I’m definitely going to be doing a lot of edits on this one so please bare with me if anything doesn’t make sense. Please let me know if anything I said is too confusing.

Anywhoo~ here it goes:

My view of the story at this point

I had to go over my last post to see if any of my original opinions had changed and, well, for the most part, not too much. Most of the gripes I have with the story is still about the same, particularly the remaining gems becoming lunarian and the many implications that comes with it, though I would say some of my anger has subsided. I’m still bothered by it, though. I understand why the story would go in this direction and why the characters, especially Euclase, would choose to make this drastic decision to change themselves, since that was they ultimately wanted: to no longer live in fear of being destroyed and live peacefully, even if it means changing what they all were. It’s still bothers me a lot, mainly because I can relate this to similar real life events of people erasing their cultural and even racial identity as a means of survival in a different and so-called “better” society. I remember in one of my very first posts in the fandom, I stated how uncomfortable it made me that the first moon gems were totally fine assimilating into Moon society and were wanting to completely change themselves to fit in this society, even if it meant removing what made them who they were. For characters who didn’t like their original identity like Cairngorm (or Welegato but I’m not calling them that), or felt stunted in their original society like Dia, and found solace in Moon society, I can see how this transition as a liberating thing…but only to an extent. The thought of literally going to the extremes of changing yourself inside and out, erasing all traces of what made you “you”, while also destroying all old meaningful relationships in the process, to live in a place you were conditioned to be believe is the better option for you…It hits a little too close to home.

I’m talking about cultural assimilation and cultural destruction, where racial and cultural minorities sometimes go through drastic measures in order to assimilate into the “better” society, even if it means completely erasing their original identities physically and mentally. I’m not saying all forms of assimilation is inherently bad and I’m not saying that you must stick with your cultural upbringing for it’s a part of your identity; that is a toxic view and it’s especially bad if you experienced terrible things because of that upbringing.  I’m trying to talk about the extreme cases of assimilation when these individuals are essentially convinced to go through extreme measures to fit in to the “better” society because their old identity was “bad”, and by completely changing themselves, from their appearance to even their name, then they can finally be happy in the so-called “better” society. I’ve heard of people going through such lengths and it’s heartbreaking. It’s very cultish and that’s how I viewed the transition of the gems becoming Lunarians, with everyone accepting the change with seemingly no issue and especially after Aechmea literally gave Cairngorm that new name. It would have been one thing if Cairn picked that name themselves, but it was all Aechmea.  The lustrous don’t exist anymore and everyone is ok with it. The gem society that we knew, at this point of time, is gone now. It was far from perfect but the fact that it’s gone is sad and disturbing to me.

My view of the key characters of the chapter

Now that I stated how I feel about the gems essentially being erased, the next question is how do I feel about these characters themselves?

Conflicted. Very, very conflicted, and even a bit disappointed and upset, especially with certain characters more than others. But surprisingly, even after seeing how the turn of events turned out for all of them while Phos is stuck on Earth alone… I don’t hate them. Yeah. After everything that has happened, I currently don’t hate the gems… For now, anyways. It all depends on what happens next.

But the one character that I feel the most conflicted with is Adamant, especially after his interaction with Aechmea. Part of me is confused by Adamant’s and Aechmea’s seemingly friendly interaction because of Adamant’s past actions and words, for they don’t seem to belong to someone who would be on friendly terms with someone who they were actively resisting against before. I’m talking about all of the times that Adamant would fight off the Lunarians but also that moment in Chapter 85:

(Chapter 85, Pages 10-11)

After seeing things like this, I just find it odd how Adamant’s interactions with Aechmea are so friendly now. And with the horrifying implication that everything that had happened was planned between them, which also doesn’t make sense, I’m not sure what to think. Maybe Adamant’s changed attitude relates to him being free of his burdens and physical body? This could explain the change in attitude, but it still feels… off. Maybe I’m looking too much into this. I don’t want to hold hope that when he and the other gems were transformed that Aechmea somehow manipulated their memories to make them more compliant, even though it was made clear that memories were going to be lost in the process. Maybe this will be explained more in the next chapter, but I won’t hold my breath for that either. To me, this just made me feel weird about Adamant because remember, I was both sad and relieved when he disintegrated in the previous chapter because I really liked his character. Now though, I’m not so sure. I still don’t hate him or any of the other gems, but I’m definitely on the fence with him more so than the others. I certainly don’t hate Euclase like many other fans; I didn’t agree with their past actions (or rather lack of actions), but like with Phos and other characters, they did what they felt was right given what they knew. Still not excusing it, but I understand why. As for Antarcticite... I’m not sure, honestly. Though I’m glad at least they brought up Phos, I can’t help but feel that their main priority is still Adamant. Out of recently changed characters, Antarcticite is the main character I have the most positive opinion on, but again, that can easily change within the next chapter. 

So yeah, I still have mixed feeling about all that has happened that led to this point in the story, and I do have a more negative view of some of them. But regardless of that, I can’t bring myself to downright hate any of the characters. Disappointed with their decisions is one thing, but to hate them with every fiber of my being? No. I don’t think I can. At least for now. The same goes to the Lunarians, too. Hell, even though I’ve said before that I hated Aechmea for how he manipulated Phos and the other gems for personal gain, once again, I don’t think I downright hate him either (though I still want something bad to happen to him.) Aechmea is such an intriguing antagonist that I love to despise.

My view of Haruko Ichikawa at this point

Since the release of chapter 95, I’ve seen a lot of fans post their criticisms of Haruko Ichikawa herself regarding how she’s writing the story and her treatment of the characters. Someone even commented on my chapter post about how they don’t view her story as ‘amazing’ anymore because of her cruel treatment of Phos and the depressing turns in the story. Even popular commentors like @rinboz posted their criticism about what Ms. Ichikawa is doing with her story. As for me, I can agree with some of the comments made to an extent. Some of the choices Ms. Ichikawa made in the story has had me question her a few times; like the mentioned interaction between Aechmea and Adamant as well as the extremely predatorial relationship between Achmea and Cairngorm. I still think that chapter 95 was extremely rushed, especially going through the previous events that were stretched out into nearly 10 chapters. There are many other smaller issues that I personally have when it comes to how Ms. Ichikawa writes her story and characters, but I think the biggest criticism I’ve seen that I agree with is the concern about the current direction of the story. And at this point, the story can only go in so many directions and most of them are leading to anything but a genuinely happy ending for Phos. And it’s pretty depressing that Ms. Ichikawa has some of us pleading for Phos to die so they don’t suffer anymore. I can’t think of any other story that has me wanting the main character to die, not because I hate, but because I don’t want them to be mistreated anymore. This story is nothing but hopelessness.

But you know what’s crazy? I kind of like that.

Maybe Ms. Ichikawa has made me a glutton for tragic stories, or because I’ve been starving for a unique story, but I kind of like that this story hasn’t gone in the predictable, happy route for everything Phos has gone through. If this story were written by someone else, I can picture Phos somehow regaining their appearance and memories, be surrounded by the people who truly cared about them and their enemies dead, and pretty much having the picture-perfect happy ending with no form of problems whatsoever as an award for everything that Phos previously sacrificed. Yeah, this is the ending I’m sure fans want in some shape or form and to a degree, I do too. But to be honest, I’m kind of glad that’s not the story that we’re getting, at least right now.  In a weird way, it’s sort of refreshing to have a main character who doesn’t always win in the end, especially after all of the things the character sacrificed.

And I also how the story and it’s characters can be so simple and complexed at the same time, like in her anthology series. To me, this makes Ms. Ichikawa stand out from the many mangaka I’ve followed throughout the years. And because of that, part of me hopes she knows what she’s doing and has something extreme planned for the story’s future.

Now, I don’t want to shoot myself in the foot for still thinking highly of Ms. Ichikawa’s writing; there are still things that I think could have been handled differently, like the mentioned pacing and story details. But for now, those gripes are not too irritating for me and I’m not quite ready to downright say that her story is bad...YET. I want to reserve my final opinion of Ms. Ichikawa as a writer until the end of the series, whenever that will be, because despite how the story has progressed for last several chapters, I’m still enjoying writing. I just hope that when the series does come to an end that Ms. Ichikawa gives us a satisfying end. When it comes to ending a series, how an author does so can really affect how fans view the series and the author, and I think this will be the case for this story, though I’m sure there will be criticism regardless of what kind of end Ms. Ichikawa creates. For me, while I do care about whether Phos and the other characters get the endings they deserve, I just hope it will be told well. I’ve seen too many times really good series ending terribly because the creator didn’t know how to end a series properly. I sincerely hope that won’t be the case with Ms. Ichikawa.

From this point forward

I remember seeing a lot of readers who are upset with how the story has progressed thus far, with some even saying that they were going to drop the series because of how depressing it is. I think everyone who felt this way has every right to feel that way; it’s completely understandable. Houseki no Kuni is definitely not a story for everyone, and it can take an emotional toll on you.  I know it certainly affected me that way, and I can’t think of many other series that has done that. It’s been a long since I’ve been so invested in a series and despite the many emotional rollercoasters I’ve felt during parts of the story, I don’t think I will ever say that I regret picking this series up. And despite my mixed feeling about the latest chapter, I want to continue to stick with it. Even if the story continues to spiral in a never-ending pit of despair, I still want to stick with it until it ends. And you know, I think even if this series does have a somber, heartbreaking ending, I think I’d still view the story as overall amazing and I’d still be glad I got into it when I did...Unless Ms. Ichikawa gives us an abrupt, unsatisfying ending. Then that opinion goes out the window.

Until the next chapter comes out... 

Other than being busy, I admit that I’m glad to be taking a break from Houseki no Kuni. Despite my many praises, it still takes a lot out of me and I definitely needed that break. And though I personally don’t mind waiting a bit longer, I can’t wait for it to back. I sincerely hope that Ms. Ichikawa doing alright, especially after all of the chaos happening for the past year, and that she enjoys her time away from the series. I hope she’s staying healthy in body and mind, and I’ll wait with bated breath for the next chapter of this story.

Besides this post, I actually had a few post ideas that I want to work on, but because of my schedule, those will have to wait a while. I wanted to make another story prediction post because even though they are sometimes wrong, they are fun to do. I think I’ll wait until the next chapter to come out to make that one. The other post I’ve been somewhat working on is a bit different from my usual post; it’s somewhat of a character analysis/reflection and it’s on a controversial character that while many justifiably hate, I personally can’t. (Can you guess who that is? I’m sure you can!) Because of how many people hate this character, I was not sure if I wanted to write it. But you know what, I’m going to do it anyways. When that post will be done? I have no clue, but this will be an interesting writing exercise for me and I can’t wait share why I don’t hate this character the way many other fans do.

 The end!

Well, that’s the end of this post. I hope you enjoyed it. I will likely go over this again at some point but it’s getting really late and I need to get some sleep. I hope everyone is doing well and keeping themselves busy during this series hiatus. Maybe unwind by reading/watching a new series. There are some interesting ones that came out last year and this year. I personally stated watching Wonder Egg Priority. It’s really good but deals with a lot of heavy subject matters, so be warned. I’vve also watched lighter stuff like Lupin the Third (I love this franchise so much) and some of the new shows on Netflix. I would like to see some more stuff but I don’t know what to look for. If you have any recommendations, please feel free to leave a comment.

Until next time, I hope everyone has a pleasant week 😊

[justreadertings]

Sweet Understanding: A Rowaelin love story- Part 3

AN: Ok so I know I’ve been distant, but the holidays and finals have kept me far from my tumblr family! I’m happy to be back with one of my all time fav parts! I hope you guys didn’t forget about this fic about my absence because it’s about to get craayyzzeee! Ok enjoy!- Magee

3747 words

Loosely based on the song Suddenly Seymor. Mentions of domestic abuse, violence, swearing, drugs, death, sex, NSFW.

Part 3

She couldn’t believe she told him. Couldn’t believe she called at all but… she told him. 

Her name was her greatest kept secret. Without her true last name, she supposed she could be any old Aelin but… she knew there was only one. Her heart stumbled just thinking of what might happen. 

If Rowan dug too deep.

If Cairn found out he knew. 

If Cairn found out about Rowan at all. 

If… he found out about any of it.

Aelin scrubbed her face, trying to wash it away. She was leaning against the counter, sleepless, sipping on her third coffee. She’d come to work with less sleep before, on nights Cairn would insist she stay awake with him on his trip. 

But it wasn’t her lack of sleep that plagued her mind. It was everything. The fact that she’d taken that step with Rowan. That he’d even seen her like that was giving so much away. She had given so much of herself away last night, she wasn’t even sure if she belonged to herself anymore. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do the next time she saw him, what they were. 

She didn’t even know her own name anymore. Her life felt like it was slowly coming apart at the seams. And the worst part was, she couldn’t figure out if she was enjoying it. 

Aelin distracted herself with work, scrubbing things that were already clean, filtering the coffee even when it didn’t need to be. She couldn’t stop feeling Rowan, not just his kiss- which was so sweet and gentle that it nearly broke her- but also his hands. So soft with her, so protective. She felt safe when he was around now, which was terribly dangerous. 

Something wicked always followed when Aelin began to feel safe. So she tried to reign in all her flooding emotions. Tried to turn them off. She’d gotten good at that these past years being tied to Cairn. 

She had overreacted last night, she knew. But she never knew where he was hiding that damn gun, sometimes it was in the band of his pants and sometimes it wasn’t. And he was just so drunk. He’d never actually shot anything in front of her, but he always liked to remind her that he had it. Aelin wasn’t sure if he’d ever use it. 

She spilled a bit of her hot coffee on herself at the thought, her hands shaking. Before she had time to curse herself, the door opened. 

Aelin was fully expecting it to be Rowan. But it wasn’t. She frowned at the dark haired brood she met at the station that day she had to pick Cairn up. 

“Two black coffees,” was all he said, voice gruff.

Gods, she thought. She may feel… whatever she was feeling about Rowan- but she still sure as fuck hated cops. Especially broody, tall, overpowered men like these.

“Magic word?” She asked, tracing rings on the counter.

Then man- Lorcan, she remembered- huffed in annoyance. “So you’re the bitchy barista?”

Aelin’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“I’m embellishing what I’ve heard from my partner for the past year. Celaena, I assume?”

She had no patience for this man. She crossed her arms, making no move to begin their drinks. “Where is that partner of yours?”

Lorcan’s eyes narrowed. “Working.”

She hated it, but a dash of fear and embarrassment tinged her stomach. Was he avoiding her? Did he completely regret kissing her? Gods, if she gave that much of herself away- her fucking name- to a man who could use it against her… 

Then, the bell rang again, and standing there, in his glory, was Rowan. Aelin ignored the relief that pierced through her stomach. His assessing green eyes tracked both her and Lorcan, as if he knew them both well enough to know that she would hate his guts. She doubted Lorcan felt differently about her.

“What the hell?” Rowan asked his partner. 

Lorcan gestured lamely to her. “I was getting coffee.” 

Rowan only squinted at him, but turned to her. “You know my order.”

She nodded, making exactly one. Rowan handed over the change, and she felt her skin tingle as their hands brushed. She made no reaction on her face, though. Her body. 

“You gave me twice as much.” She said, frowning at the change.

Rowan nodded towards Lorcan. “I’m buying his.” Then, he nodded to the door. Lorcan seemed to take the hint, but leveled a look at her that she could not decipher before he left. It made her nervous. Did Rowan tell him something about her? Did they start digging in her past? 

“Ignore him,” Rowan said, breaking her out of her worries. “He’s a dick.”

Aelin hummed. “And I’m that ‘bitchy barista’?”

Rowan cringed. “You weren’t so nice to me if you’ll remember correctly.”

“Because you were all sunshine and rainbows,” she mused. He huffed a laugh, and Aelin peered up at him behind the machine. He seemed about as tired as she was. “Late night?” She asked.

Aelin had to look away from the deep look in his eyes. “Something like that.” He braced his elbows on the counter between them, his voice becoming softer, like it was last night. Gods, she’d let him clean off her blood. Her cheeks heated. “How are you?”

She shrugged. “Same old same old.” When she tried to pass him the coffee holder, he reached for her wrist. Her eyes flashed up to his.

“Seriously.”

“Seriously,” she said. “I’ve been through worse. Again, I overreacted last night. I mean…” She struggled with the right words. “I’m glad I called you. But it wasn’t… what I thought it was. I told you that. I’m ok.”

He nodded, but she could tell he didn’t like the answer. But that was the answer. So he would have to deal. Instead of commenting about it, though, he only peered over the counter, as if trying to see in the back.

“Luca here?” She shook her head. “Emrys?” Again, she shook her head.

 “Just me. Luca gets here in an hour.”

Rowan glanced around the empty shop. Her heart started racing when he lifted his brows, and asked, “Can I come back there?”

She swept her hands out in front of her, trying to seem a lot less nervous than she was. “No one’s stopping you.”

As if it took no effort at all, Rowan swung himself over the counter. Her eyes tracked his strong arms. She used to be strong like that. Well… maybe not like that, but she used to be stronger. She’d always liked herself when she had muscle on her. Always felt better about her body. Aelin could absolutely admire Rowan’s body, even if it was covered in that stupid fucking uniform.

She tilted her head up at him. “Hi,” she whispered. Honestly, Aelin didn’t know what the fuck she was doing. Especially so out in the open. She knew her apartment wasn’t being watched… anymore. But she had no control over who saw what in the shop.

So, without thinking, she grabbed Rowan’s hand and pulled him into the back, just a quaint office. She shut the door quickly, forgetting how small the office really was. She and Rowan were nearly chest to chest. 

“What are you doing?” Rowan asked her. Aelin had a boyfriend. Gods, she really didn’t know what the fuck she was doing. But she knew that Rowan made her feel… something. And that was worth keeping around. Even if it was crazy, dangerous. She wouldn't risk losing a feeling. An emotion. 

“I-” she started. But she didn’t have the words. She had no defense of herself for what she wanted. She couldn’t even figure out what she felt, let alone be able to voice it to him. So instead she rose on her toes, staring at him. Waiting.

Rowan’s eyes flickered down to her lips. That magnetic feeling came back, as if she couldn’t stop herself from going to him. It was the same reason she didn’t lock him out every morning for the past year. In all honesty- she needed him. She needed to yell at him then. And now… 

“Rowan?” She whispered.

He shifted closer to her, staring down at her like a puzzle he could not solve. “Yes?” He whispered back, like he also knew how fragile this was.

“Kiss me.”

-

Rowan didn’t know why they were in this little office, didn’t know how she was or even if she was safe. All he knew was that she was right there, asking for the same thing he hadn’t stopped thinking of for hours. Still-

“Are you sure?” He whispered, still moving closer.

Aelin pressed further on her toes, her nose brushing with his. Teasing and testing him. He braced his hand on the upper cabinets above her, swallowing. “Well?” She whispered, an evil little look in her eye.

Gods, she was the devil. Worse: he was entranced with the behavior. “You’re very full of yourself, aren’t you?” He asked, his breath ghosting her lips.

She smirked. “Is it working?”

It was. Rowan leaned down then, unable to stop himself from kissing her. It was exactly as it was the first time: overwhelming. All consuming. Their embrace quickly turned heated, so different from last night. Rowan realized something very important in that moment: he needed her.

Fucking the consequences, Rowan grabbed her waist, pulling her to him. He pried open her mouth, quickly exploring her as she opened for him. When she moaned around his lips, he balled her shirt in his hands, untucking it from her jeans. It seemed that all the energy they’d spent hating each other had turned into… this.

Her fingers threaded through his hair, pulling. Gods, she was destroying him. The only sound in the office was their combined panting. His hands came up to grab her jaw, and she met him for every moment of savagery. She tugged harder on his hair, and Rowan pushed her back to the door, pressing her against it. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t think about the millions of things he should be thinking about when she was here, so warm, and entrancing, smelling of lemon verbena and fire.

When he lowered his mouth to her pulse point, her head fell back against the door with a bang. “Fuck,” she groaned. Rowan went wild with it, beginning to worship her neck, giving her what she deserved- before being roughly pushed back.

He glanced up at her, surprised, both of them breathing harshly. She wasn’t looking at him, though. No, she was staring at the floor, hand covering her neck. 

Her neck. Fuck. 

The mood was utterly ruined.

“Fuck,” Aelin said, mirroring his thoughts. “Fuck fuck fuck.” She lowered her hand, glancing at him with something like terror in her eyes. “There’s not a mark, is there?”

He inspected it closely, then shook his head. With that, she sighed, closing her eyes. Relief settled so heavily on her, it was visible. She nearly collapsed against the door.

Rowan had to rub his hands down his face, calming himself down. He was not the type of person to make impulse decisions. He didn’t know what she was doing to him. She had a boyfriend- an abusive, dangerous boyfriend. He just didn’t think when he was around her. It was why she could goad him into yelling matches- it was why she could drag him into this room and kiss him senseless. 

A noise came from her, and it snapped him out of his thoughts. He realized she was laughing. Laughing.

“Aelin?”

She bent at her knees, the noise a little bit manic. “Oh my gods.” When she looked up at him, he saw disbelief in her eyes. “What the hell is wrong with me?” He just watched her laugh to herself and shake her head. She started talking, but he was pretty sure it was to herself. “I guess I never learn my lesson, huh?” Aelin was rubbing her cheek, the scratch on it, probably unconsciously.

Rowan frowned, and he risked a step towards her. “Learn your lesson?” he asked, looking for anything from her. He was becoming obsessed with this, he thought. Figuring out her riddles, trying to understand her life.

Aelin tilted her head up, eyes shut tight, choosing to ignore his question. “What are we doing, Rowan?”

“You dragged me in here,” he pointed out. Rowan had no idea what she wanted. He was starting to think she didn’t know, either.

Her eyes swam, and he couldn’t decipher what she was thinking. Couldn’t figure out what was going on in that beautiful head of her’s. It didn’t help that his brain was still mush after that kiss. He really wanted to kiss her again. But- “What do you want, Aelin?”

Her mouth began destroying her nail, her eyes still processing. “I want to finish that kiss,” she said, honestly, a little beside herself. It was like she was reading his mind. Until she told him, “I think… I think we need to pause.” Her eyes flickered up to his. Nervous. “Is that,” she swallowed, making herself small against the door. “Is that ok?”

Rowan nodded, even though he really didn’t want to stop. But their lives were far more complicated than this room, and what could have happened here. Kissing in secret probably wasn’t the smartest choice, and for her, it wasn’t the safest. His stomach churned. He would always respect that. Rowan told her, “of course.” 

She sighed again. “Thank you.” But she didn’t like his nod, because she stood and squeezed his arm, her eyes honest. “I mean it. Thank you.”

Rowan realized how little she probably got that answer from people. How rare it probably was for her to get her way. He searched her expression. “Of course, Aelin.”

She closed her eyes then, soft. A smile graced her features.

Rowan nearly fell on his knees. Because that right there was the first real smile he’d ever gotten from her. Ever.

Not a smirk, or a devilish grin. Not a pained, forced smile. A real one. 

“What?” he whispered, not wanting to destroy it. 

She kept her eyes closed. “I just- my name. You use it so casually.” Her eyes opened, something clear in them. “It’s nice,” she said, before her tone changed. “Just don’t say it in front of anyone else.”

He nodded, so many questions on his tongue. “I won’t,” he promised. 

Aelin nodded, relief once again taking over her face. She was like a puzzle he could not figure out. 

“Why don’t we start here,” he said, wanting to keep her anyway he could. It was like his new addiction, learning about her life. “Join me for those drinks. Terrasen plays Adarlan tomorrow. We need more people to root for the Ghost Leopards in this city.”

She thought about it, her eyes glazing a bit. Processing. Planning. Finally, she told him, “Cairn would have to come.” Regret tinged her voice.

Rowan’s stomach rolled over, but he just nodded. “That’s fine.” 

She nodded, one of those fake smiles gracing her mouth. “Sounds perfect.”

He frowned at her. 

Aelin swallowed, searching his face. “As long as you can handle it.” Her voice dropped. “I can’t break up with him, Rowan.”

A strange tightness filled his chest, and he had to push away images of her, bloodied in her destroyed apartment, and how similar it looked to the scene he was greeted with when he used to come home from school. 

“Ok.” It was all he could muster. She was not his to keep. He had to accept that. Had to accept her choices.

“Ok,” she said, voice hopeful. 

He was hopeful, too. It was strange. It was new. It was a dangerous, ugly feeling. And he did not know what to do with it. 

-

“You don’t have friends.”

Aelin kept her eyes open, even though she wanted to close them with exhaustion. She knew Cairn wasn’t going to take this well, but he was in a good mood. This should have been going… better. 

“I made some.”

He flipped to another channel, and she had to bite her tongue to comment about how disengaged from the conversation he was. “Where? All you fucking do is work.”

The coppery taste of blood tinged her mouth where she bit her tongue. “I made them at work.”

“Who.”

It only then dawned on Aelin that she was asking him to go out with the men who’d arrested him. Fuck. “They come into the shop,” she swallowed, trying to not show her nerves. It was never good if he thought she was nervous. “They’re Ghost Leopards fans.”

He watched the tv for a minute, and that meant that she was to sit and wait. When it seemed like he wasn’t going to answer, she clenched her teeth and started on dinner. She’d have to bring it up again, later.

Her heart sank at the idea of missing it. All she wanted to do was pull Rowan into this apartment, and have him kiss her like he did earlier today. He could make her forget about her shitty situation, make her feel. Her lower belly was still aching for him.

She hadn’t felt such lust in… years. Hadn’t felt sexy in longer. But Rowan made her feel desirable. Not as an object to have, a thing to show off. He played with her, explored her. It mattered that it was her there, not just a body.

He made her feel safe. Her chest clenched with the thought. She ached for that feeling with every inch of her body; it was almost unbearable. 

She turned from the counter, giving it her last shot. “I’ll pay. For food and beer.” When he didn’t respond, she threw in, “I’ll drive, too.”

Finally, after making her wait a moment more, he waved her off. “Fine.”

Relief sank through her body. “Ok. Perfect.” She turned back around, facing the other wall. Tears pierced her eyes, strange and unusual. But she couldn’t help it. It was like she was slowly melting, every minute, and her emotions were breaking free. 

Earlier, she’d caught herself smiling on the way home. She could barely recognize herself. 

“Perfect,” she whispered again.

-

“He said yes,” she said, and she looked so excited.

Fondness spread in Rowan as he watched her. She had given him his coffee the moment he walked in, and told him the news not a second later. “Good,” he said, even though he wished she could just go on her own. Wished she didn’t have to ask. 

She just nodded, a smile gracing her lips. He wanted to stay there and just stare at her do that all day, intoxicated by her good mood. But he already got a lot of shit from Lorcan when he was ten minutes late to meet him at the office the day before. Rowan knew he couldn’t hide much from his partner. And though he didn’t want to hide Aelin- he didn’t know what there was to admit to. 

It wasn’t like they’d had a conversation about it. Rowan knew communicating had never really been their strong suit. He wasn’t even sure what the hell to call her in his head.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he told her.

A crimson color overtook her face. “Yeah,” she spoke through her smile. “I’ll see you tonight.”

-

Work was normal. Until it wasn’t.

His boss, Gavriel, called his unit into his office. He, Lorcan, Fenrys, and his twin, Connell, all crammed in, watching him with an air of caution. He was calculated, and to the point. He was a good boss, but he was stern, too.

And he was looking at Rowan. 

Gavriel cut to the chase. “I’ve called you all here because Archer Finn has applied for parole.”

Rowan’s mind went very, very still. The air had been sucked out of the room. He thought he might be frozen. It felt like all eyes were on him, but he couldn’t focus on that. He couldn’t focus on anything but the sickening truth.

“He’s not going to get it. Will he?” His voice sounded gutural in his own ears. 

Gavriel’s tawny eyes narrowed. “He’s been in there seven years.”

“Twenty,” Rowan cut in. “I was promised twenty.” 

His boss shook his head. “And you may get seven,” he leveled. “He’s applied because of good behavior,” Gavriel went on, but Rowan couldn’t hear him. Couldn’t hear anything but his beating heart. Couldn’t think of anything but Lyria’s pretty face, her smile when she held the sonogram up. Of their child. Of their life. 

Couldn’t see anything but her casket. Lowered into the ground. He didn’t even get to say goodbye. To kiss her goodbye, tell her to drive safe. He was too busy at work that night. She always said he worked too hard, that she loved him for how much he cared, but that he should start to put his life first. 

He was trying. He knew he was going to be a father, and that required more of him than his job did. He was going to take some time off.

It never got that far. 

“Rowan?”

His eyes snapped up to his boss, his body humming with all the emotion in his body. “Promise me you won’t do anything drastic. Anything stupid.” 

Disgust tinged his mouth. He stood. “You don’t need to worry about me.” His body moved without really thinking, just taking him out of this room. Away from his coworkers. Away from the godsdamned world. 

He didn’t remember how he got to the gym, all he knew was that he was beating the anger out. He had to get it out of his body, had to rid himself of it. He couldn’t have it in him, this anger. It made him dangerous, and wild. He just kept hitting and hitting and hitting. 

If he could be emotionless, he would. He hated the part of himself that was savage. He did better without emotions. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out where all this emotion came from in the first place. He’d gone seven years without it. 

But Rowan didn’t want to think about that right now. All he wanted was to beat his hands bloody, so that maybe these… feelings would be gone. He couldn’t think about Lyria, about the past. Because if he did… it might kill him.

I hope you enjoyed it! More to come after the holidays hehe. *runs away* 

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[rowanwhitethornisbae]

Faking It Chapter 1

Rowaelin Fake Dating High School Au

A/N: This is going to be told through Aelin and Rowan’s POV’s but will also feature other characters. 

masterlist

Aelin Galathynius had never been this pissed off in her entire life. 

“I need to focus on myself.” 

“You can be a lot to handle sometimes.” 

If Aelin hadn't been so shellshocked she most definitely would've slapped that grimace off his ruggedly handsome face. Chaol Westfall and her had been dating for as long as Aelin could remember. Grade six graduation, he was there. Grade eight dance marathon, him again. First day of high school, Chaol. Junior prom night, guess fucking who. 

Now, she was barely a week into senior year and everything was already going to shit. It’s not that she was completely torn up about the breakup - she wasn't - it was more about her pride. Aelin’s bitchy side could not believe that she hadn't been the one to dump him first. They’d barely spoken to each other all summer long. Aelin had been lifeguarding at a pool on the south side of town and Chaol had been a camp counsellor on the north. Still, their friend groups crossed over in every way possible. Aelin was the head cheerleader, leader of about every committee you could think of, and as Aedion liked to call her, “Queen of Terrasen High”. Chaol was, you guessed it, the football team captain and starting quarter back. They were the textbook couple in every way possible. Still, despite the cheerleaders and football players hanging out nearly every night, Chaol and Aelin had barely talked. It had been that way since their huge fight on the last day of junior year. They’d claimed to forgive each other, but never really had. They’d both said some really fucked up shit. Still, Aelin couldn't bring herself to be completely regretful of what she’d said to him. 

“This is a good thing A.” Her best friend Lysandra was saying beside her. “You’re way hotter than him anyway.” 

Snapping back to attention, Aelin smiled. “I am aren't I.” She laughed. 

“Hell yes.” Lysandra assured her. “He was never in your league.” 

Aelin laughed and threw her arm over her best friends shoulders. School was out for the day and they were heading out to meet Aedion for a drive home. Ignoring the faint anger in her gut, Aelin had to admit she felt more free. She hadn't been single since the sixth grade - save the small break her and Chaol had taken in 10th year. Aelin didn't like to ponder too much on that time in her life. 

A blast of warm air hit her as they pushed open the heavy doors to the school. Aedion’s face broke into a wide grin as he spotted them. As soon as her and Lysandra reached him he pulled her into a bear hug. “Welcome to the world of miserable and lonely single people. You’re gonna love it.” He messed with her hair and she groaned for him to put her down. 

“How the hell do you know already?” She asked.

“Oh my sweet naive cousin. Everyone knows.” He smiled sympathetically. 

“Everyone?” Aelin said, a hint of desperation in her tone.

“Everyone.” Aedion echoed. “It’s the biggest news to hit the school since, well, you and Chaol took break.”

Aelin swore under her breath. “Can’t people focus on their own lives for once.” 

Lysandra laughed softly. “We need to find you a rebound.” She said, bouncing on her toes. “I finally get the chance to be my best friends wingman.” 

“I don't want a rebound.” Aelin said frowning. 

“Would you rather Chaol find one first. He broke up with you, you’re already losing.” 

Damn Lysandra. She knew that Aelin was probably the most competitive person alive and could literally never shy away from a fight. 

“Fine. Who?” She swung open the door to Aedion’s car and climbed in the back.

Lysandra clapped her hands together and joined her in the back. “How about Fenrys Moonbeam?” 

Aelin shook her head back and forth. “No way.”

“Why?” Aedion asked. “He’s unfairly attractive.” 

“You date him then.” Aelin shot back. 

“Maybe I will.” He smiled wickedly at her in the rearview mirror and pulled out of the parking lot. 

“How about Sam Cortland.” Lys suggested. 

For a moment Aelin considered it. Despite being a year younger than her, Sam was extremely cute. His messy brown hair and constant smile didn't hurt matters. 

“Too nice.” Aelin insisted. “I’ll feel too bad about using him.” 

Lysandra had just begun naming someone else when their car slammed into something else. Aelin’s body lurched forward uncontrollably, head slamming into the seat in front of her. 

“Fuck!” Aedion swore. “Fucking hell!”

Aelin didn't even have time to revel in the fact that Aedion had actually cursed. Instead, she surveyed her body to make sure she was alright. Lysandra appeared to be doing the same and they both exchanged weak smiles of comfort. All three of them slowly got out of the car to see who exactly they had run into. 

Aelin was stilling rubbing at her temples when a voice sent a chill down her spine. 

“Are you fucking kidding me Ashryver?” He said. 

Heart racing, Aelin lifted her head slowly and met the anger filled green eyes of Rowan Whitethorn. He looked absolutely flawless in his leather jacket and white tee. His too tight jeans were ripped around the knees and cuffed just above his black combat boots. Rowan’s silver hair was messy and unkept and his tattoo was just as beautiful as ever. The vibrant green of his eyes never failed to take her off guard. Eyes that were now staring directly at her. 

He blinked twice, the only reaction he would show, and went back to yelling at her cousin. 

“I’m sorry man.” Aedion was saying in the background. “I didn't see you.” 

“It’s not his fault.” Lysandra jumped in. “We were all distracted.” 

“Let me guess.” He snarled back, tone as pissed off as ever. “Discussing the recent breakup.” Rowan was looking at Aelin now, waiting for a response. 

“Something like that.” She mumbled, not looking directly at him. 

“Didn't hear that princess.” He said loudly.

“Fuck off Rowan.” Aedion yelled, subtly stepping between them. “It was accident, send me the bill for your bumper. We’re going now.” 

“Whatever.” Rowan didn’t look at her once. He only got back in his dented black car, flipped Aedion off, and hit the gas. 

“Come on A.” Lysandra said softly, wrapping an arm around Aelin’s trembling form. She pulled her gently back toward their car. Aelin could feel Aedion’s gaze on her, yet for some reason she couldn't bring herself to care. 

After a few more minutes of silent and awkward driving, Aelin couldn't bear it anymore. 

“I’m fine guys.” She said with as much confidence as she could muster. “Please stop looking at me like I'm a time bomb.” 

Lysandra laughed and smiled. “Whatever you say A.” Aelin had never been this grateful for her best friend. 

“How about Rowan.” Lysandra continued. Every thought left Aelin’s head and she jolted upwards in her seat. 

“Are you insane? Are you literally fucking mental. I would get burned alive then have a conversation with him.” Aelin was practically yelling now. 

Lysandra only shrugged. “What’s the one thing that hurts more than sleeping with the best friend?” She asked Aedion. 

“Sleeping with the guy you told him not to worry about.” Her cousin recited, smirking in the rearview mirror. 

“Absolutely not. No way in hell.” She paused. “Besides, he wouldn't even give me the time of day.”

Lys squealed. “So you’re considering it.”

“No.” Aelin murmured, ignoring her friend’s pointed glares. 

“Alright.” Lysandra finally relented. “Just think on it.” 

“Fine.” Aelin nodded, and went back to staring at nothing through the car window. 

                                                     ~~~~~~~~

“Lorcan!” Rowan yelled out. “Where are you guys?” 

“Out back.” Came the booming yell of Lorcan Salvaterre. 

Sighing, Rowan put his coat back on and walked through the house to the back door. Only, Fenrys greeted him, patting him on the back and moving over on the couch. “How was your day?” His friend asked. 

“Horrible.” Rowan admitted. 

Fenrys stuck out his bottom lip. “How come?” 

“I talked to Aelin Galathynius.” 

The rest of the group instantly stopped whatever conversations they’d been having and whirled towards him. Fenrys’ eyes were blown wide open as he struggled to find the words. 

“Explain.” Lorcan said at last, falling back in his chair. Vaughn and Gavriel were staring at him cautiously, as if he might have another breakdown.  “Her cousin hit my car.” He grumbled. 

“The first time you speak to Aelin in nearly two years is because you crashed into her car” Vaughn reiterates. 

Rowan only nods. Fenrys, bless him, somehow restrains from laughing. 

“So do tell.” Gavriel gestures for Rowan to go into more detail. 

“I made some comment about the breakup, she refused to look at me, I basically mocked and condescended her, and then Aedion told me to fuck off and I left.” He reached down into the cooler for a drink. 

“Um wow.” Lorcan sighed. “Nice going asshole.” 

Rowan just held his beer out in salute and took a long drink. He was more than ready to forget about the whole day and move on. Unfortunately, his friends seemed less inclined for his plan. 

“The news of their breakup is all over the school.” Fenrys told them. He had always been their number one source of gossip, considering the rest of them despised most social interaction. “Guys are already placing bets on who can sleep with her first. Cairn bet Nox 1000$ he can nail her by Dorian’s party this Friday.” 

Rowan tried and failed to ignore the tightening in his chest. 

“Will she even go to that?” Gavriel posed. “Dorian is Chaol’s best friend anyway.”

“She’ll be there.” Rowan blurted before he could take it back.

All eyes again flipped to him. “Why don’t you make a move Rowan?” Lorcan asked, a smirk etched onto his lips. 

“Fuck off Salvaterre. I hate the bitch.” Rowan snarled. 

“You didn't seem to hate her so much when - “ Fenrys began. 

Rowan was already up and moving before he could hear the end of the sentence. He ignored their calls of apology and to come back, instead getting into his car and pulling out. At last, he pulled into the parking space in front of his aunt’s house and leaned his head against the car window. 

It had barely been a week and his senior year was already shaping up to be a fucking mess. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[allthingshorror111]

The Big Grey Man of Scotland

This is the urban legend of a 'big, grey' man, that roams the highland mountain in Scotland called, Ben Macdhui. This mountain is 4296 feet tall and not only, allegedly, homes this 'man' but is also said to be haunted. Hikers of this area say that this large humanoid creature, with the nickname 'Fear Liath More' (meaning 'big grey man'), stalks people who cross his mountain. Eyewitnesses say that it is 10 feet tall, very hairy with long arms and legs. So he's a big guy.

The first known sighting of this Scottish beast was from a professor, who was exploring the misty mountain. He said, "I began to hear the sound of noises in the loose rock behind me coming down from the natural cairn on the high plateau. Every few steps I took, I heard a crunch, and then another crunch as if someone was walking after me but taking steps three or four times the length of my own." He dismissed this as a hallucination, so he continued on his travels, but so did the steps behind him. The professor was seized with terror and fled the mountains until he reached the nearby forest. He saw nothing but was left with the image of being stalked but something inhumanly big. The professor quoted "there is something very queer about the top of Ben MacDhui." He promised he would never roam that mountain by himself again. However, sometime later the professor received a letter from a man who detailed his own experience, he saw a giant figure approaching him, while he was trying to enjoy his hike.

This story drew in lots of media attention, so other takers of this mountain had come out with their stories. Were they just trying to follow the latest trends or did they genuinely have their own experiences with this 'big grey man'? Many people that sent in their stories, said that they felt sensations of uncontrollable fear and pain.

One story that stood out, was the story of the man who camped on top of this mountain in 1940, where he suddenly was overcome with the feeling of morbidity and the sense of unreality. Either he had taken a tab of acid or he was being watched by the 'fear liath mor'. He woke up hours later and saw something brown lurking outside his tent. He estimated it to be around 20 feet tall, with broad shoulders.

Another experience that was brought to light was from an author. She was roaming the mountains and heard a voice, she described it as having a 'gigantic resonance' and a reminiscent of Gaelic. She hunted the grounds for any sight of civilisation but instead, she realised she was all alone, left with whomever or whatever was the owner of that voice.

Sometime in the 1990s, three mates were walking along the countryside in Aberdeen, where they spotted a dark human-shaped figure running about the fields. They felt a random, sporadic sense of terror. The three chums described the figure as "human but not-human". One of the friends threw a stone at the figure but it disappeared into the deep, dark woods. Weeks later the same trio said they were chased by the same figure while in their car, it soon gave up and just stood and stared. Maybe this figure was trying to start a fight with the friend that launched a stone at it weeks before?

Overall, this 'big grey man' is usually seen on the mountain or in the surrounding area. It usually gives off strong feelings of panic, distress and frightfulness to anyone that comes across it. Some people have said that they feel hypnotised or drawn to jump off dangerous ledges nearby. As well as this, ghostly laughs and eerie music has been heard in the mountains, almost like it is being carried in the wind.

So, do you think a large hairy beast lurks these lonely, desolate mountains or is it just the explorer's wide sense of imagination?

[jezy]

Here's a post of information so you don't get confused (if you had seen my fanfic Ben 10 Reboot Chats but if you aren't its fine, this is just my headcannon/theory thingy for Reboot!Hex) :

Hex had seen and went through hell before he even got to the world he's in right now.

Before he got the whole...look, he was a brown man with curly brown-black hair that was always a mess.

He's demisexual, he doesn't really get sexually attracted to someone (or even romantically) fully. He only had a full romantic relationship towards Libra who's been with him since kids. But that changed when the First Cataclysmic War begun.

Heather (or Charmcaster) and Hex have a very distant relationship but Hex actually cares about her and Heather thinks he's the only one who understands her problems (which in fact, he does understand).

Heather teaches him a thing or two about the modern world and helped him with his hair. In exchange, he teaches her magic and gave her an amulet he hasn't used anymore.

Hex cares about the other villains but doesn't show it.

Because if he shows it, people would find this as his weakness and they would exploit it or use it against him (i.e. kidnapping them or threatening to kill them). To which he doesn't want to, because it reminds him of failing to save Libra that one day.

Hex's hair turned white either due to severe stress or the fact he was slowly aging when he descended from his ascendance state and the fact he was trying to find the Eye of Wotan along with the Well of Light before he dies of old age that time.

Hex met Steam Smythe before but he doesn't know its the redheaded kid who praised him for his magic skills back in the 1900s.

Hex had rejected all of the villains who had a crush for him either by roasting the crap out of them obliviously or just plain cold "No". Except for Zombozo, he's a persistent bastard who annoys him with compliments and flirting.

Before he became the guy he is today ; He was neglected and abused by his father and he doesn't get to eat much so he's skinny and lanky when he was a child to becoming a Sage---

Hex was blamed by his father, Isaac Yvette, for the death of his biological mother, Yuna Igraad who died giving birth to him. When Hex was birthed by his mom, Isaac was disgusted when he opened his eyes for the first time while Yuna only complimented it before dying.

Since that day, Isaac named the baby "Hex" (means curse) because he thinks Hex's the reason why Yuna died and the other reason is the god Yuna believed and prayed for, who he thinks cursed the child with yellow and red eyes and killed his wife.

Yuna was a believer of a god whose name was long forgotten in time while Isaac is a magician who makes money from potions, spells and curses that he sells.

Hex has mixed emotions about him being the reason for his mother's death. He was mad at himself, sad for his mother and empty deep down inside.

He got even more mixed emotions when Libra died. Mostly blaming himself because he thinks he wasn't strong enough to save her. (To which is a lie, because the Handmaiden's Shield spell is indestructible and only a God can break it).

Hence why, he tries his best not to actually kill Ben because it reminds him when he still had Libra in his life, a young lad determined to do anything just to protect them to which he (thinks) he failed at before. (Till he snapped at him in the Ben Gen 10).

His father, with a baby Hex in hand, fled the world of Cairn and went to another world named Ledgerdomain via rifts.

While still in Ledgerdomain his father met Morgana, who was the heir to the throne at that time, fell in love and got remarried. And that's how Spellbinder was born folks!

Hex & Spellbinder has a 4 ½-ish year age gap. So Hex was only 8 ½ and Spellbinder was only 4 when they were children.

He was the black sheep of the family, which makes him jealous to Spellbinder who was treated like a golden child while he, even though his father stopped abusing him, doesn't even get recognitions, praises or even compliments from either his half-mom or his dad for his very hard works.

When he heard voices in his head that tells him things that he should do to his brother, he didn't gave in, and after a while he and Spellbinder became actual brothers.

That is until, Hex accidentally burned three people who were beating him up in a corner.

It happened one day when he was told (ordered) by his half-mom to run errands to the town's markets and see what he could find for his 9th birthday gift. Which he happily obliged since he thinks it was a way for his half-mom to gift him. But then some older children started to follow him on the way back to which he ran in panic. They cornered him to an alleyway and started to beat him up.

Hex snapped when he saw the only gift he had be burned by the older children as they mocked his eyes and skin. To which in retaliation, he sicced on them. Very very harshly.

Since that day, the people in that kingdom despised Hex and would occasionally call him slurs and throw rocks at him. If Hex has someone with him, they would distract them long enough for them to throw a rock or cast a harming spell at him.

But one night changed everything, Hex and Isaac were strolling near a pond. Isaac embraced Hex to a one-armed hug, which he thanked for.

Till he saw a sacrificial knife on his father's other hand. He escaped the embrace before he was stabbed but got a scar on his back because of that.

What's worse was when he came home his father was there with a shocked Spellbinder and an angry Morgana, he got indirectly disowned by his father saying he was just a child he picked up a few years back.

That was the day he ran away from the kingdom and to a pond where he cried.

But it was also the day Hex met Libra Renov, a princess from another kingdom.

He and Libra are like glue who can't get separated that easily. And are clingy to each other. Very clingy.

Libra let him live secretly in their kingdom to learn more magic and hang out together. He enjoyed it while it lasted.

Hex basically eloped to Cairn with Libra when they were 18 years old. It was only because she got to an arranged marriage to his brother, which she didn't like at all and neither does he.

Both joined into a Faction named only "The Sages". There they met Disa Jónsdóttir, an icelandic-swedish woman who trained very hard.

Hex reached his ascendance when he was 34, Libra reached hers when she was 30 and Disa reached hers when she was 28.

Hex didn't liked it when Spellbinder followed them to Cairn and joined the Sages. He especially didn't liked him when Spellbinder forcefully kissed Libra on the lips to which caused his brother's (Spellbinder's) life to go dissaray. But he didn't snapped from that.

The only thing that made him actually snapped was when the cataclysmic war begun, which caused Libra to die. When he found out who actually caused it, he bashed their head forcefully till their head was just...smooshed.

The people found out he killed someone, not knowing it was their fault who caused the war between gods to broke out, so they captured him and burned him alive.

Hex only survived that due to an artifact named "Totem of Undying" (Shh, yeah, Ik. IK.), but he was severely injured. He forced himself to create a rift to the world (he's currently in) and dragged himself there.

Since then, he got angry to the world and became the guy he is today. But with more muscles since he trained nonstop since then.

But now, he's the guy with conflicting thoughts about stopping on ruling the world or keep going. Like, he doesn't know if he wants it anymore or not.

That's all for now!

[thebluelemontree]

Hi!!! love you blog!!! I am re-reading AFFC and it's look like GRRM is foreshadowing and setting up a showdown btween Sandor and Sir Lyle crackhall. Do you think they both you met in TWOW?

Hi and thank you!!! Um... Respectfully, my friend, no. I don’t think that’s what’s happening.  

I don’t think Ser Lyle’s (Strongboar’s) statements are a foreshadowing to a confrontation with the real Sandor Clegane anymore than Ser Tanton’s. Well, first of all, Sandor’s story doesn’t have any relevance to Lyle Crakehall. There’s no backstory between them. No conflict to resolve. Strongboar is in it purely for the glory-seeking. Hell, he even wanted a crack at The Blackfish. Hunting notorious outlaws is a means of earning honors and rewards for warriors not currently serving in military campaigns. There’s nothing that feels like his declared intentions have raised the stakes for Sandor in any way. This is a subplot of a subplot involving a tertiary character, which IMO, doesn’t feel like it fits with a redeemed Sandor’s return to the story. But even more than that, there are far better reasons to speculate that Lyle is destined to meet someone else instead.    

The biggest sought after fish in the region are Dondarrion, Thoros of Myr, the BwB, and the “Mad Dog of the Saltpans.” Rumor has it that all of these guys are in league with each other, which is not true at all, but this belief will be important later. It’s also important to note why this rumor was perpetuated:

"If [Sandor Clegane] is with Dondarrion . . . ?"

"He's not. Alyn is certain of that. Dondarrion's men are looking for him too. They have put out word that they mean to hang him for what he did at Saltpans. They had no part of that. Lord Randyll is putting it about that they did in hopes of turning the commons against Beric and his brotherhood. He will never take the lightning lord so long as the smallfolk are protecting him. -- Brienne V, AFFC. 

There are grains of truth but a lot of deliberate misinformation going around. Despite word of Dondarrion being killed by the Mountain, he’s still credited with leading assaults on anyone harming the smallfolk even well after he’s permanently dead. The BwB since broke into two factions, and one is now being led by Lady Stoneheart. Rumors of The Hangwoman, The Silent Sister, and Mother Merciless are just starting to enter the mix with their own partial truths. What matters is that the general consensus is that if you rout out the BwB, you find all the outlaw leaders, including Sandor Clegane. 

Of course, Sandor isn’t responsible for the Saltpans massacre. He was misidentified when Rorge stole the Hound’s helm from the cairn. Brienne killed Rorge at the inn at the crossroads while defending the orphans, but the true identity of the one responsible for the massacre is not yet common knowledge outside of the BwB. The Hounds helm found a new owner in Lem “Lemoncloak” of Stoneheart’s band.

"There is nothing good about that helm, nor the men who wore it," said the red priest. "Sandor Clegane was a man in torment, and Rorge a beast in human skin."

"I'm not them.”

"Then why show the world their face? Savage, snarling, twisted . . . is that who you would be, Lem?" 

"The sight of it will make my foes afraid."

"The sight of it makes me afraid." -- Brienne VIII, AFFC. 

Considering that Sandor is believed to be with the BwB, what do you think the chances are that Lem is being set up to be misidentified as the “Mad Dog of the Saltpans” in the very near future? The answer is high, very high. 

To trace Lem’s link to Strongboar, we need to back up a bit to the ASOS Epilogue and the hanging of Merritt Frey near Old Stones. The BwB lured Merritt under the pretense of ransoming his nephew, Petyr Pimple. It ends with the reveal of Lady Stoneheart, her confirming Merritt was a participant in the Red Wedding and Merritt’s hanging. Guess who is holding the other end of the noose when he’s strung up? Lem, identified as a man in a yellow cloak.  

Fast forward to Feast when Jaime has dinner with Lady Mariya (Merritt’s widow) and Lady Amerei Frey (Merritt’s daughter) who is now married to Lancel Lannister at Castle Darry. They have a long conversation about who killed Merritt, the Saltpans massacre, and the whereabouts of the BwB.  

[Jaime] turned back to Lady Mariya. "The outlaws who killed your husband . . . was it Lord Beric's band?"

"So we thought, at first." Though Lady Mariya's hair was streaked with grey, she was still a handsome woman. "The killers scattered when they left Oldstones. Lord Vypren tracked one band to Fairmarket, but lost them there. Black Walder led hounds and hunters into Hag's Mire after the others. The peasants denied seeing them, but when questioned sharply they sang a different song. They spoke of a one-eyed man and another who wore a yellow cloak . . and a woman, cloaked and hooded." -- Jaime IV, AFFC.

Guess who is also sitting at the table? Lyle Crakehall, who will now be on the lookout for the man in the yellow cloak. Surely, if/when he does see this man, he’ll also be wearing the Hound’s helm. 

Strongboar filled his cup again. "Lady Mariya, Lady Amerei, your distress has moved me. You have my word, once Riverrun has fallen I shall return to hunt down the Hound and kill him for you. Dogs do not frighten me." 

This one should. Both men were large and powerful, but Sandor Clegane was much quicker, and fought with a savagery that Lyle Crakehall could not hope to match.

Lady Amerei was thrilled, however. "You are a true knight, Ser Lyle, to help a lady in distress." -- Jaime IV, AFFC.

And uh, Strongboar might have also thought to sweeten the victory a bit because Amerei has a bit of a reputation and he’s seen her flirting with Jaime across the table as she asked him to hunt the outlaws. As Aunt Genna says “you know why they call her Gatehouse Ami? She raises her portcullis for every knight who happens by.”

Then later after Riverrun is sorted out:

Strongboar was the next to depart. He wanted to return to Darry as he'd promised and fight the outlaws. "We rode across half the bloody realm and for what? So you could make Edmure Tully piss his breeches? There's no song in that. I need a fight. I want the Hound, Jaime. Him, or the marcher lord."

"The Hound's head is yours if you can take it," Jaime said, "but Beric Dondarrion is to be captured alive, so he can be brought back to King's Landing. A thousand people need to see him die, or else he won't stay dead." Strongboar grumbled at that, but finally agreed. -- Jaime VII, AFFC. 

Darry’s ownership is currently in limbo since Lancel renounced his lordship and unconsummated marriage to Amerei so he could join the Warrior’s Sons. Genna speculates that Kevan will marry his other son, Martyn, to Amerei instead and claim Darry. But it is worth considering that a second son like Ser Lyle might then hope to wed Amerei himself and gain the lordship of Darry Castle in his own right. What better way to do that than by doing what Lancel could not? He isn’t allowed to kill Beric, but it’s open season on the Hound and he swore as a knight that he would avenge Merrit’s murder by killing the Hound for Mariya and Amerei.   

So where is Lem right now?  He has to be still around the outskirts of the Fairmarket area since that’s where he was last seen attempting to hang Brienne, Hyle, and Podrick. Brienne then shows up at Pennytree, just west of Fairmarket, where she reunites with Jaime, supposedly to lead him back to Stoneheart and the BwB. Brienne tells Jaime that the Hound has Sansa and that they are located not too far away. "A day's ride. I can take you to her, ser … but you will need to come alone. Elsewise, the Hound will kill her." There were two guards present to witness their exchange. 

Darry is half a day’s ride south of the Trident. If Strongboar is in Darry in TWOW, he will probably head north from there after word gets around that Jaime Lannister has gone missing (my guess) while riding out to meet the Hound, his quarry. That would be some powerful motivation to ride fast and headlong into BwB controlled territory, where he would see the man in a yellow cloak with a Hound’s helm. Who would win in that fight? No idea.  Maybe one dies, or both. I could definitely see Ser Lyle looking upon the unburned face of a nobody under the helm and realizing he didn’t bag the big prize he desperately wanted all. 

[gumnut-logic]

Census

After my little hissy fit last night about not being able to write, I spent all day today doing exactly that. 5000 words later and we have this rambling fic. I had to fill in our Census today, so I figured the Tracys could too. It went places I did not expect.

There are a couple of anachronisms in this fic. It is based in 2060 for census reasons, but I mention at least two characters interacting with the Tracys from later seasons. Please ignore and enjoy anyway :D

There are also a couple of vague references to ship, but no real ship, I promise.

Thank you in particular to @katblu42​ and @willow-salix​  and the other members of Thunderfam who kindly checked on on me last night while I was bemoaning my inability to write. Sorry if I was exasperating. I have a degree in that. If it helps, no one gets more annoyed with me than I do ::hugs you lots::

Rambly, mostly brotherly conversations and doesn’t really go anywhere, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

-o-o-o-

How Gordon got there first was no mystery. Virgil was just too damned tired after three rescues in a row and Scott had been tied up with Tracy Industries for most of the day. Grandma could possibly have been on it if she hadn’t been filling in for John who had broken out his exo-suit to yank a couple of free floaters out of the sky.

He was still muttering about idiots and safety. His mood was not improved by the fact Grandma insisted he come down for the night so he could be counted.

Consequently, his muttering also included cursing bureaucracy even though Virgil knew census night was a favourite of the astronaut.

Perhaps Gordon got to the form first because he knew everyone else was tired and grumpy and needed a kick in the pants. Virgil had to admit with a fond thought that his little brother was prone to throwing joke bombs amongst them when the mood was through the floor.

Virgil had no issues wondering why Alan wasn’t the one poking at the form. Their resident teenager wasn’t interested at all.

“Okay, guys. What is our address? What did we put last time?”

Alan didn’t even look up from his game. “Tracy Island.”

Gordon, who was sitting at Dad’s desk, staring at the holographic form, hesitated. “Did Dad register that with the powers that be?”

“What?” Alan really wasn’t paying any attention at all.

Virgil sighed. He was sitting on the couch with one of his uniform boots on his lap attempting to pick out several penetrating objects out of the sole. His last rescue had been a collapsed factory and he was still trying to work out what exactly it was that they made that could penetrate his specialist footwear.

Fortunately, despite multiple incursions, he only had a scratch on his left foot, more an annoyance than anything, but these objects were frustrating and suspicious.

“Dad did all the right things. Tracy Island is the official name now.” The pliers weren’t quite gripping the piece of metal properly. The grip slipped and Virgil swore.

“Now? What was it called before?”

“Deserter’s Rock.” Scott strode in from the kitchen, a coffee in hand, and grimace on his face. His usually perfect hair was scruffy, as if he had been running his hands through it.

Virgil frowned up at him. “You okay?”

His brother took the steps down into the lounge and sighed. “Nothing a holiday won’t fix.” It was Scott’s turn to frown. “What’s with the boot?”

“Deserter’s Rock? Really?”

It was John who answered, very much like Alan, staring into his tablet and barely paying attention. “Really. Three sailors were stuck here for months. Only one survived. That’s why there is a cairn on Tracy Peak.”

“I thought that was a pile of rocks put there by Dad.” Gordon seemed genuinely surprised. “You mean there are two dead guys on the Island?”

“Along with their ghosts, yeah.” John still didn’t look up.

“Ghosts?” Alan did look up at that, eyes wide. “What ghosts?”

“The one’s who keep stealing my Bailey’s ice cream.”

“Oh.” Alan went back to playing his game, his eyes definitely not darting between John and Gordon at all.

“Okay, moving on…so where do I put ‘Tracy Island’ in this thing? It’s not a suburb, state or territory…do we have a postcode?”

“It’s a locality. Shove it in there.” Virgil grit his teeth and yanked hard at the piece of metal embedded in his boot. A grunt and a flex of heavy lifting muscles and…it didn’t move at all. What the hell?

“Okay, whatever.” Gordon half sung ‘Tracy Island, Kermadec Ridge, South Pacific Ocean’ to himself as he entered it into the form. At least he was being specific. Virgil glared at his boot.

“Next. Who gets to be head of household? Oh, the Householder?” A pause in which Virgil poked at his boot, Scott sipped his coffee with closed eyes, Alan killed three zombies with a grin and John sat motionless still staring at his tablet.

“Okay, then. It’s me.” Gordon grinned to himself.

Nobody looked up, but all four other brothers said simultaneously and in chorus. “It’s Grandma.”

Virgil flexed his hand and picked up his pliers again. Peripherally, he watched Gordon’s shoulders drop. Even the Fish couldn’t argue with that.

“Fine. It’s Grandma.” He reached up and touched the box to open that section of the form. “Where is she anyway?”

Virgil tried to get a better grip on another chunk of metal in his boot. “Yoga. Don’t disturb her.” Yoga was Grandma’s mindfulness time and after today, it was well overdue. “Leave her be.”

“I wasn’t going to. Sheesh. So, name. Sally Tracy.” He typed in her name. “Person two?”

“Scott Tracy.” Okay, so Virgil had a bit of a thing about this. His brother deserved acknowledgement for everything he had done.

Gordon glared at him. “And so I guess the rest of us are in age order?”

Virgil flipped his boot over. “Whatever floats your boat, fishboy.” A glance in Scott’s direction and he had to wonder if his brother had fallen asleep, he was that still. The coffee mug in his hand was the only proof of consciousness.

Virgil fought the urge to save it. “Scott, you wanna go to bed?”

“Wha-?” His brother sat up. “I’m fine.” Fortunately, he put the coffee mug down. The chances of Virgil having to treat burns tonight dropped significantly.

“How do you spell ‘Hackenbacker’?”

Virgil did not grace that with an answer as it was obviously a stupid question.

John was apparently on auto as he spouted off the required letters anyway while still staring at his tablet.

Gordon poked at the form in silence for a little while and Virgil wondered what on Earth he was entering. He trusted his brother. This was an official document, after all, but he was still Gordon.

“Okay, guys, I need your information.”

Beside Virgil, Scott ‘woke up’. “What, no questions about Grandma?”

Gordon frowned at his eldest brother. “I’ll have you know that I know our grandmother very well. We have a special kind of relationship.”

Alan snorted.

“What? You got something to say, sprout?” The fish glared at Alan enough to torch him on the spot.

“I’m just saying that after that time with Grandma’s diver’s license, you should know Grandma’s details very well. Her birthdate, her ancestry, her suit measurements…”

A starfish plushie suddenly had a very short career as a ninja star and bounced off Alan’s head. “Shut up, Alan.”

Their little brother only giggled more.

John, still staring at his tablet, raised an eyebrow. “Allie, Grandma baked some cookies yesterday. I think there are still some in the cupboard. Would you like some?”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Alan threw the plushie at his fish brother, missing completely, and went back to playing his game. There was muttering about Gordon making jokes but Alan not being allowed to.

Virgil sighed to himself.

“Scotty, what’s your age? It’s 2060 for reference. Oh, and your gender.”

All signs of sleep fell away and Scott sat up. “Gordon…” It was all warning.

“Hey, I’m just giving you the opportunity to offer an alternative. After all, tonight you look at least fifty-six.”

“I’m thirty-one and you know it.”

Gordon poked at the form. “Thirty-one years young. Got it.”

Scott grunted at him.

“Virg, are we telling the truth this time?”

“Depends on whether you want me to leave you in the ocean next time.” Why the hell couldn’t he get this out of his boot?

“To threat level already, you are grumpy tonight.”

“Gordon…” Virgil echoed Scott from earlier to the note.

“Johnny?”

“No one named ‘Johnny’ lives here.”

Gordon signed. “John Glenn Tracy, how would you like me to record your age?”

“Accurately.”

“Fine.”

“If I say I’m thirty-two, do I get to go higher up on the form?” Alan looked hopeful.

“If you like.” Gordon moved things around on the display.

Virgil gave up. The locality of Tracy Island was destined to be a statistical anomaly anyway. At least it would be an interesting one.

Besides, John would probably hack it later and fix it. The fact he had hardly protested so far was eminent proof of that security factor.

“Scotty, are you the husband or wife of Grandma?”

Scott rubbed his face and didn’t bother to answer, picking up his coffee again and burying his face in it.

Virgil just wished he would go to bed. The man was a zombie.

Gordon took the hint and was quiet for a little while. Virgil went back to tugging on his boot. Maybe he should take this down to his workshop.

The thought of actually working more had his shoulders slumping enough to alert Scott. The concerned and questioning look shot in his direction had Virgil sitting up a little straighter to fend it off.

“John, where should we put your usual place of residence?”

“Here.”

“But you live in space.”

“So do you.”

“Pedantic much?”

“As necessary. Tracy Island is home. Thunderbird Five is merely in our astronomical backyard, not to mention secret.”

Virgil looked up at that. It was a simple statement, but it was good to hear that John still considered Tracy Island home despite his multiple protests over the years.

“Fine. Secret space station wasn’t an option anyway. I could flub it and use Global One but then that would spark all those rumours about you and that captain all over again.”

“Gordon, I can hack your bank accounts.”

“Go for it.”

“I can also hack your fish tanks.”

The aquanaut shot to his feet. “You touch my tanks and you’re dead, spacehead.”

John didn’t react other than to smile just a little.

Their space brother could be a right royal ass when he wanted to be. Virgil sighed. “John, you know the rules.”

He shrugged. “Didn’t break any.”

“You touch my tanks, I’m spicing up your atmosphere on Five. I’m not kidding. I have fart gas resources even you can’t find.” Gordon was still on his feet and actually appeared angry.

John shuddered. “TMI, Gordo. Not interested in your gas capacity, honestly.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Calm down, Gords, John’s not doing anything to your fish tanks. He knows the rules, don’t you, John.” He arched a prompting eyebrow at his brother.

“Never said I didn’t.”

Definitely an ass.

“Gordon, calm down. You can put John’s relationship to you in as ‘nemesis’ if it makes you feel better.”

“I can only put in our relationship to Grandma. I wrote favourite grandson in yours.”

It was Virgil’s turn to shrug. “I’m not going to complain. Sit down and finish the form.”

His brother didn’t answer, but he did sit down, albeit still glaring at John.

John had gone back to his tablet, doing who knew the hell what.

Definitely an ass.

Virgil turned back to Gordon. “What’s the next question, Gords?”

The glare switched to Virgil for a second before turning to the form. “Where were we born?”

“Kansas.”

“I know that. What about Grandma, Brains and Kayo?”

“Space.” Alan said it with triumph.

“What?”

“Where John lives. Isn’t that what the question was?” Alan stared between his brothers.

“Go back to sleep, Alan.”

“Grandma was born in Kansas, Brains was born in India, and Kayo was born here.” Scott proved he was still awake by suddenly providing information enough to make Virgil jump.

Gordon poked at the form, but nothing further was said on that front. Everyone knew Kayo was sensitive about her past, and while she wasn’t in the room, she would find out and partially kill anyone responsible.

“Kayo is here tonight, isn’t she?”

Virgil yanked on his boot again, slipped and managed to elbow Scott in the ribs. His brother grunted.

“Oh, shit, sorry. You okay?” He shoved the boot aside and the pliers along with it.

Scott eyed him and rubbed his side. “That answers your question, Gordon. Kayo is on a conference call with Captain Rigby.”

Virgil glared at Scott.

Gordon eyed the both of them. “Is there something you two aren’t telling the class?”

“Shut up, Gordon.” Virgil glared at Scott a moment longer, enough to have his brother’s expression fall into one of concern. Grabbing his boot again, Virgil went back to wrestling with embedded metal. Damned specialised rubber was amazing when it protected him but when its tolerances were overrun, it was a pain to fix. Maybe he should ask Max to give it a yank. “What entertaining religion are you using this time, Gords?” Any attempt to get the conversation off this topic.

Gordon stared at him a moment, obviously still trying to work out what the hell happened there.

Scott was dead later; Virgil was going to make sure of it. Tired or not, he had crossed a line.

A sideways look in his eldest brother’s direction and it was obvious Scott realised that. Okay, maybe he could let it go. It had been a long day and they were all tired.

Probably should go to bed.

He went back to fighting with his boot.

Gordon was still staring but even the fish knew when to shut up apparently, because the next words out of his mouth were entirely religious.

“I’m worshiping Neptune this year.”

Alan frowned. “I thought you said that last time.”

“Dad wouldn’t let me.”

That brought the whole room to a standstill. Last census was ten years ago. Flashback to that time brought everything that had changed into the bright glaring light. The biggest change being Dad’s absence. But even more, ten years ago they were still based in Kansas, IR was in development, but not yet a reality. Alan was only six, Gords eleven and with his body still intact…it was a completely different time. Virgil was still in college and had to fill in his own census form in Denver.

Gordon broke the looming silence with a determined smile. “This time the government gets the truth. Scott bows to the sky gods, Virg worships molemen, Johnny is a god, and Alan is Satan.

“Hey!” It was said by multiple brothers at once.

Only John remained calm. He even had a smile. “In that case, I want bagels every Sunday.”

“You get bagels every Sunday. Virg sends them up all the time.” Alan glared at his space brother – Alan did not like bagels.

John grinned wider. “I’ll take that as proof that I have at least one faithful worshipper.”

“Next time you can get your own bagels.” Virgil glared at his brother.

Gordon snorted. “Yeah, right, you old softie. John could blow up Two and you’d still send him his bagels.”

Virgil found himself glaring at Gordon again. It seemed to be a theme tonight. “Short pier, long walk, Gordon, go for it.”

He got a smirk for that. “Don’t mind if I do. A little night diving is quite spectacular around here.”

Virgil ignored him and went back to his boot…which he had made zero progress on for all the time he had been sitting here, damnit.

“Does Virgil ever ‘need someone to help with or be with him for self-care, body movement, or communication activities’?” Gordon typed into the form. “Before coffee.”

Virgil ignored him some more as Alan took the bait and snickered. “Better watch it, Gords. Won’t be long before ‘before coffee’ time kicks in. Look at him, he’s already brewing.”

The piece of metal in his boot finally shifted a little. Thank goodness.

“Long term health conditions.” Gordon slumped in his seat. “Well, isn’t this cheerful.”

“Just fill it in, Gordon.” Scott’s words were little more than a sigh.

That left a gaping silence. Gordon tapped a lot at the keyboard filling in far too much. More for himself, obviously, but then there was John and his space issues, and they all had been diagnosed with something on the list hanging above their father’s desk.

Except Alan, who could not be left out. Virgil pretended to not be able to read the word ‘zombification’ next to his little brother’s name.

“Schooling? Oh man, John, you can write all the letters after your name. I can never remember them all.”

“Not a problem.” The astronaut poked at his tablet and the hologram in front of Gordon sprouted half the alphabet.

“Really? Did you get a new one?” He stared at John. “When did you get time for that?”

John shrugged. “Made time.”

“What’s this one for?”

“Oceanography.”

“What?”

“You were in the ocean. I didn’t know enough to help. So I fixed the problem.”

Gordon just stared.

Virgil, of course, knew. He had been the one to field John’s version of panic the day he didn’t know enough to help Gordon. John was practical. He saw a problem, he fixed it. Oceanography wasn’t an obvious topic for the starman, but he was a genius and that genius could be applied where he wished it to be.

If Virgil had found himself helping John at a few points that intersected with his specialities along the way, he was just going to take a little comfort from being able to return the favour after years of borrowing his brother’s brains for other topics.

And besides, it had meant he had been able to spend a little extra time with John. Always a good thing.

Despite him being the occasional ass.

Gordon was still staring. “Is that why you bugged me to take you out in Four?”

John shrugged. “Partly. Didn’t mind spending a bit of time with you either. Good experience to familiarise myself with Four as well.”

The stare continued.

“Be careful you don’t catch any flies with your mouth open.”

The stare became a glare. “We’re talking about this. You and me.”

“Sure.”

Gordon looked like he didn’t know whether to yell at him or run over and hug his brother. Virgil was voting for the latter.

But everything was interrupted by a sudden snore and snort.

Virgil turned to Scott and found his brother startled awake, likely by his own snore.

“Wha-?”

“Scott, you need to go to bed.”

“I’m fine.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Do I need to pick you up and carry you?”

“I’m fine.” He waved Virgil away, sat up straighter and attempted to guzzle whatever was left of his probably cold coffee.

“Idiot.”

“What?”

“Go to bed.”

“No. We need to finish the census.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because I want to.”

“Why?”

“Can you stop that?”

“Can you go to bed?”

“No!”

“You need sleep.”

“I can manage my own health, thank you, Doctor Virgil.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I am an adult.”

“Sometimes.”

“Virgil!”

Gordon let off a loud snort. “That’s it. I’m putting you two in as married.”

“Gordon!” Both of them, in chorus. It was apparently a theme tonight.

“Well, you both argue like an old married couple, what can I do?”

“You can shut up and move onto the next question.”

Gordon poked his tongue out at Scott, but he didn’t stop grinning and Virgil was forced to hold back a smile himself.

Bratty little fish.

He was still smirking when he said, “Employment.”

“Oh god.” Scott sank back onto the couch and rubbed his face with his hands.

There followed a book’s worth of employment activities.

“Rocket surfing is not an occupation, Gordon.” Virgil sighed.

“Why not? Both Scott and Allie surf rockets.”

“Alan rides a rocket sled and Scott is just trying to give me grey hair.”

“Has he succeeded yet?” Bratty fish.

“None of your business.”

“So is International Rescue paid or unpaid work?” Gordon was frowning at the form.

“Unpaid.”  Scott’s tone was sharp.

“So are we unemployed, employed or self-employed?”

“Self-employed.”

“How much do you earn a year, Scotty?”

Their eldest brother paused as if calculating, but then threw up a hand. “Stuffed if I know.”

John snorted and rattled off a number.

“There isn’t enough space for that many zeros here, John.”

“Give me a moment.”

The display in front of Gordon flickered and each of their names received a variety of numbers…except for Alan.

“Hey, how come I don’t have any earnings?”

“You are a minor.” John spoke calmly, as if speaking to a minor.

“But I do stuff for Tracy Industries, I do.”

“All your income is held in trust, you know that.”

“Then who is paying for all that popcorn I bought this morning?”

Scott sighed. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to bust the bank.”

“We own the bank.”

Scott stared at John. “When did we buy a bank?”

“I bought it for your birthday last year but forgot to give it to you.”

“Oh.”

“I’m writing obscenely rich next to all our names. Oh, except for you, Allie. You’re a pauper.”

“Hey! You suck, Fishbrain.”

“Remember who might need to lend you money in the next couple of years…”

“While Gordon remembers who lent him money in the past, who still helps him with his finances, and who also is the one to fish him out of the ocean after every mission.” Virgil pinned Gordon with his eyes.

Gordon blinked. “You have a point.” A pause as a smile crept over his face. “Who was that again?”

The hologram of the census form wobbled as a lounge cushion flew through it and hit Gordon squarely in the face.

“Right on target. Hmm, I’ve still got it.” Scott blew imaginary smoke off a finger gun.

Unfortunately, Scott may have still had it, but he wasn’t the best marksman on this census form. The cushion rebounded via aquanaut and hit Scott squarely in the face with an oomph.

This forced both Virgil and Alan to come to his defence and for a full ten minutes after that, it was an all-out pillow fight between the brothers. Even John was drawn in as Gordon came up behind him and tried to stuff one down the back of his shirt.

Which wasn’t advisable since his gravity support was still in play. But then John was king of the noogie and immediately grabbed a head full of strawberry blond hair, dragged it down onto the couch beside him and made sure it received the full-on noogie treatment.

Gordon did squawk quite a bit.

An extreme one-on-one joust erupted between Scott and Alan. It was that determined that Virgil had to back out. Alan, being the terrier he was, managed to get Scott on his back on the lounge and sat on him pummelling him with pillows.

Virgil had suspicions that the game was rigged.

In any case, he had to find somewhere else to sit and tinker with his boot.

Eventually, Gordon found his way back to the census form. Scott was still on his back and apparently Alan had decided he preferred that his big brother stay that way by sitting on him and playing his computer game. Scott at least had a remaining cushion under his head, but one foot had taken out a pot plant and the other was hanging over the back of the sofa. His brother really was too tall for lying on the seating arrangements, but he didn’t seem to care.

With a bit of luck he might fall asleep.

“Okay, let’s finish this. How did you get to work today?” Gordon grunted. “This form has no rockets, planes, submarines or space elevators on it.”

“Tick the ‘other’ box and let them work it out.” John let out a yawn.

Virgil eyed him.

John screwed up his face and poked out his tongue.

Wha-“ Virgil blinked.

“Hey, Virg, how many hours did you work last week?”

That distracted him enough to turn to Gordon. “How the hell do I know?”

“You worked them. I bet you know your flight hours.”

“Today’s. Not last week. That was last week.”

“Eos, send Gordon last week’s record?”

The AI chimed in at her father’s request. “Yes, John.”

Another document appeared in front of Gordon. “Wow, that much? Really?”

“The documentation is correct as recorded.” Eos sounded a little miffed. But then she never particularly liked Gordon on the best of days.

His fault, of course.

“Virg, you win, but only by a bit over Scott and that was because he twisted his ankle on Monday.”

“Sprained, you mean.”

“Twisted.” It came from the couch and was strangled by a little brother.

“Sprained. He should have been off for several days, but he’s an idiot.”

“You can’t talk, Mr Bruised-not-cracked.”

“At least I’m not Cracked-not-broken.”

“Sure.”

Scott might have said more but Alan whacked him with a pillow. “You guys are idiots. Gords, John and I are lucky our grey hairs don’t show.” Alan growled. “I’m sixteen, for crying out loud, and I know more about hospitals than I ever wanted to. Look after yourselves, you morons.”

Silence hit the room again.

“Way to go, Allie. You tell ‘em.” Gordon’s words were honest.

Of course, Scott was devastated and immediately questioning all his life choices. Virgil wasn’t far behind, but Scott, in particular had a sensitive spot where Alan was concerned.

“Hey.” He reached out a hand and rested it on their little brother’s arm. “Talk to me, Allie.”

Alan growled again. “I’m fine as long as you two look after yourselves. We kinda need you, you know.”

Scott grabbed his little brother and dragged him down into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

Virgil sat with his boot in his lap needing to grab both his brothers but not wanting to interrupt their moment.

He shouldn’t have worried. A second later Gordon jumped over the back of the couch, landed beside him and grabbed him, dragging him sideways into an oomph of a hug. “Don’t worry, my dear wingman, we still love you even if you are an idiot.”

“Gordon…”

“Admit it, you want a hug.”

“Shut up.”

Gordon didn’t say anything further, but he did squeeze tighter.

“When you get to the questions on whether any of us looked after children, Gordon, tick yes for all of us.” John’s tone was as dry as a desert.

“Will do.” Gordon grinned at him.

Scott actually fell asleep after that. It was about time. Apparently, Alan made a great teddy bear.

Alan grumbled about that for days, but Virgil knew his little brother treasured his relationship with Scott and the fact he fell asleep as well was rather telling.

But that fact pretty much ended the census form filling for that night.

The next morning saw all of them out on an earthquake and it wasn’t until two days later that Gordon realised they hadn’t submitted the form.

Grabbing Scott and Virgil, he ran them through the last of the questions, landing on the definitions of their dwelling.

“How many registered motor vehicles do we have at this dwelling?”

“Er, none? We have no roads.” Virgil frowned at the obvious answer.

“Three rockets, two planes and a submarine don’t count?”

An arched eyebrow. “Does it say anything about planes? Tracy Two and Three are registered in Aotearoa.”

“Aotearoa is not the United States.”

“But they are still registered.”

Scott sighed. “Read the form properly, guys. It says exclude heavy vehicles.”

“Well, that strikes Virg off the list, but your ‘bird’s a pansy.”

That earned Gordon a mocking whack up the back of the head.

“Gords, just write zero. The intent is there.”

“Fine. We have no motor vehicles. Stupid form.” A sigh. “Okay, how many bedrooms do we have?”

Scott answered that one. “Ten.”

“I thought it was twelve.”

“One went to an art studio and the other to a music recording room.”

Gordon glared at Virgil. “Way to take over the house, bro.”

“And how many fish tanks do you have in how many rooms? Not to mention the chunk of vegetable garden we had to sacrifice for Rover’s pond?”

“Leave Rover out of this. That wasn’t his fault.”

Virgil snorted. “Not his.”

“Shut up.”

Scott sighed again. “We have ten bedrooms.” He scanned the rest of the form, which thankfully wasn’t very long. “We own the place outright, and yes, they can archive our information for our grandkids to access. Tick the boxes and get this sent so I can go get some lunch.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Scott growled but Gordon ignored him.

Boxes all ticked, he hit the submit button.

“This form has already been submitted. You may not submit it again.” Underneath was the date of the day before census night. “What the hell? How could we open it if - ” Scott hit his comms. “John!”

John’s hologram flickered up beside the misbehaving census form. “I’m between a hurricane in Bermuda and an avalanche in the Pyrenees. How may I help you?”

“What?!”

“Oh, the census form. Eos submitted that three days ago.” Their space brother was distracted a moment out of pick up range as Scott’s jaw dropped. “Needed to get it done before Gordon got his hands on it. Besides, we can’t guarantee we wouldn’t have been called out anyway, so I got it done beforehand.”

“Then why the hell were we going through the damned thing on census night?”

John blinked. “You had fun, didn’t you? We shared an evening together.”

Virgil joined both his brothers at staring at John.

The astronaut just smirked back at them. “You did a great job, Gordon. Thanks.” The smirk turned into a grin. “Thunderbird Five out.” His hologram disappeared.

Scott’s face curdled. “I’m going to kill him.”

Virgil let his shoulders drop and sighed. “You said that last time he did something like this, and he’s still kicking.”

“I’m soaking his underwear in saltwater.” Gordon had that fire in his eyes that usually preceded a Tracy Island Armageddon.

“Gords…”

“He played me, Virg. He knew what I would do and played me. He thinks I’m predictable!”

“Yeah, but he obviously did it for the right reasons.”

Virgil found himself the target of two glares. “What? You want a group hug or something? C’mere.” And he grabbed the both of them, wrapping his arms around them. “Happy Census Night.”

The grumbling was worth it.

-o-o-o-

[nalgenewhore]

Too Late To Turn Back Now - Six

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Something warm was pressed into him, his arms holding something to his chest, his face pressed into the curve of someone’s neck.

Lorcan frowned, groggy as he lifted his head to find Elide in his arms. Her shirt had ridden up, his hands splayed across her taut stomach. He didn’t know what to do, not wanting to wake her and also not wanting to stay here, holding her as she slept. Never mind that he hadn’t slept that well in ages and that Elide fit so perfectly against him, he did not like it. Not one bit. 

Deciding to wait, he tracked his eyes over her profile, the gentle slope of her nose and the way her rosy lips parted slightly. Every time she breathed out, the strands of hair that fell over her face floated up and floated down. She began to shift and he hastily moved his arms, turning away before she could fully wake up.

He pretended to be asleep as she shifted and the bed moved. Lorcan slowly got up, sitting against the headboard and looking over at Elide to say good morning. He had broken something new and fragile between them, but he didn’t know how to get back to what they had made. It was different last night, Elide tucked into his side, smiling and happy as they spoke. The words died in his throat and she looked back at him, her eyes closed off and face unreadable.

“Hello? Lorcan?”

Lorcan swallowed hard, his mouth dry as he rasped, “Is that my shirt?”

At some point during the night, Elide had swapped out her hoodie and sweats for one of his t-shirts that hit mid thigh. Her pale cheeks pinked and she ducked her head, fingering the worn cotton hem as she muttered, “I sleep cold and you’re a furnace.”

When he didn’t answer, too shocked by the sight of her, she shifted on her feet, crossing her arms, “Why are you staring like that?”

“’Cause you look good,” Lorcan breathed, unable to stop the words. “Really good.” He slowly raked his gaze up her body to hers, the glimmer of heat wiped from her eyes the moment their sights met. To change the subject, he quickly asked, “Where are you going?”

“Oh, I’m going on a run. Clear my head.”

“Ok. Um, can we- can we talk later?”

She nodded solemnly, grabbing a pair of leggings and a long-sleeved synthetic top. “Sounds good.”

“Alright, I’ll let you get on with your run.”

“See you.”

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Her feet landed lightly on the soft trail, bouncy soil covered in pine needles and pinecones. ‘Cause you look good. Really good.

Anneith help her, that was so not helpful right now. Elide stopped at a fork in the path, hoping she could find her way to the ocean by following the waves.

What she heard was quiet, steady beats of a drum and voices reciting words in a language she didn’t know. Curiosity got the best of her though and Elide listened carefully and turned left, walking down the path.

As she walked further and further, the scent of sage grew and grew and she sighed, feeling the smoke wash over her. The path brought her to a secluded grove, where she saw three women kneeling, their backs to her.

Elide got the sense she shouldn’t interrupt this and slowly stepped backwards, the sound of a twig snapping under her foot deafening.

The rhythmic drumming and chanting stopped and as one, Odette, Aneha, and Sadirah turned, their faces suspicious until they saw her and smiled warmly. “Elide!”

“I’m sorry, I just heard the drumming and—”

Aneha shook her head and stood up, walking across the grove, a braid of sweetgrass in her hand. “We were just praying, you don’t need to apologize.” Slowly, as if she were shy, she asked, “Do you want to join us?”

“Oh, I don’t need to, I’ll just leave you all to pray. I’m sorry again.”

“Please? We’d like to share this with you,” Aneha pouted slightly, making her dark eyes wide and big. Elide relented with a nod and walked, hesitantly, to kneel beside Odette, Aneha on her other side and Sadirah on Odette’s other side.

“Do you know about the Ozuye?”

Elide shook her head, her hands folded in her lap. “Not much. Lorcan hasn’t mentioned it much.”

“Ah. Well, I’m not surprised,” Odette commented, commencing the gentle drumming. “Lorcan has had difficulty with his heritage.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” she said, her face growing sad. “My son never felt as though he belonged. The anger inside of him… is like nothing else. The hate he feels.” Sadirah and Aneha continued their prayers, beautiful words spilling from their lips. “In our language, there is not a word for hate and we don’t feel it, but Lorcan does. He feels love, just as much, but he’s always focused on the anger.”

“Vaughan told me about their… father.”

“That’s good. You should know. As I’m sure you know, Lorcan isn’t one to discuss his past. For a long long time, he was ashamed and ashamed of his shame. He lost his way.”

Elide stared down at her lap, her voice quiet. “I lost my way with my people.”

“Terrasenians?” Sadirah asked. 

She shook her head, “Blackbeaks. My father was from Terrasen, but my mother was from the Frozen Wastes. I stopped my practice when I left home.” She regarded the sage in Sadirah’s hand, watching the smoke. With a finger, she traced the sage that wafted over to her, reading the white smoke, “This is good. To us, it means this space is cleansed.”

Sadirah smiled excitedly, gesturing vaguely, “We’re performing a sun prayer right now, for the solstice.”

Elide had forgotten the solstice was approaching and shared a small grin with the younger girl, “It’s coming up soon. I always loved the summer solstice.”

Odette offered to teach Elide the prayer and the twins smiled wildly, with abandon, as she recited the words, her pronunciation far from perfect or even good, but Odette assured her the Creator didn’t care how it sounded, as long as the meaning was there.

The prayers wrapped up and as they stood, wiping the pine needles from their clothes, Elide asked Lorcan’s mother. “Did Lorcan ever find his way back?”

“Yes, he did,” Odette replied, her full lips pulling into a wide smile, her eyes crinkling. “You can always find your way back, Elide. Your gods haven’t left you, they’re just waiting for something. For some, it means meeting a woman they describe as Death’s consort, but your moment will come, my dear.”

“Are you telling tales about me, iná?”

They turned to find Lorcan leaning against a tree, something unreadable in his eyes as he looked at Elide. Odette rolled her eyes, “You didn’t think to join us?”

Lorcan shrugged, “Didn’t want to interrupt. El, we’re going into town.”

Her brow furrowed, “For what?”

“Your parcel,” he said, arching a brow. “You coming?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll see you all later,” she said, accepting the hug they all enveloped her in. “Thank you.” Elide walked backwards away from the grove, silently thanking her goddesses and respectfully dismissing them.

As they walked back up the path, Elide studied Lorcan, Odette’s words ringing in her mind. He glanced down at her, his brows creasing, “What is it?”

Elide just shook her head, “Nothing.”

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

After picking up her new phone, Lorcan took her to a café and steered her towards an empty table as she set up her phone. “Remind me again why I broke my old phone?” When he opened his mouth to say something, she held up her finger, “That was a rhetorical question, Salvaterre.”

Lorcan chuckled, “Enough said. Do you want something to eat?”

“No, thank you, just water? Please.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say please and thank you this much,” he teased her as he stood up to wait in line. Lorcan glanced out the window and did a double take. Elide followed his gaze to where Essar was, oblivious to Lorcan as she led a group of children, all holding hands. “On second thought, give me just a minute.”

Lorcan left before she could say anything and she watched him walk up to Essar, who smiled brightly up at him. Elide paused in her setting-up, watching them as they spoke and Lorcan crouched down in front of a child, his face bright and joyful. She’d never seen him this happy.

Swallowing past her tight throat, she listened through her messages, smiling triumphantly as the courts called back, asking her to call them as soon as possible to schedule an appeal. Excited, she hastily gathered her shiny phone and the box it came in, rushing out to tell Lorcan. “Lorcan!”

He turned to her, a brow raised, “Yes?”

“We got it, we got the appeal!”

He gasped, “Really?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, laughing as he wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her, picking her up and swinging her around. “We got it.”

As he put her down on her feet, his eyes tender and soft, “You’re fucking amazing, Lochan.”

“Language,” she murmured, reaching up to pick a pine needle off the collar of his sherpa jacket and giving a pointed look to the children. Lorcan chuckled and rolled his eyes as she turned to Essar, “I’m sorry, there’s just this case and it got appealed and it’s just a whole big thing.”

“Well, I have no idea what’s going on, but I’m happy for you two. I should be getting the kiddos back to school, but I’ll see you guys on Sunday. Say bye-bye to our friends,” Essar said to the children and they all yelled good-bye, still holding hands as they waved.

Lorcan and Elide laughed and waved goodbye as Essar led the children down the sidewalk. “I can’t believe you actually got the appeal.”

“Are you dissing my mad lawyer skills?”

He laughed and shook his head, “Nah, no way. It’s more like Cairn fucked it up so bad and the judge hates him.” His arm was slung over her shoulder and she bumped him with her hip, scrunching her nose up as he made a face and stuck his tongue out at her.

“You’re a child.”

He opened his mouth to reply when they heard someone calling their names. They looked behind them at Sadirah who ran up to them. “Hey! Elide, do you mind coming with me? There’s something for you.”

“What, I can’t see it?”

“Nope. Top secret, big man. You’ll find out soon enough,” she said, tugging on Elide’s hand. “You’ll see her later, gods above, go!”

He held his hands up in surrender and backed away, “I’ll be at the boat when you’re ready, princess.” 

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Sadirah pulled Elide into a shop above Dresenda’s, refusing to answer any of her questions. Elide only became more confused when she saw Aneha, Odette, Aelin, and Nehemia waiting in chairs in what appeared to be a seamstress’ atelier. “What’s happening?”

Aneha stepped up, a garment bag in her hand, “Go into the back and change!”

Elide dutifully took the bag and passed into the closed off area, her breath catching as she unzipped the bag and revealed to herself a white silk dress, no extra beading or decorations save for painstaking pleats and beautiful mother-of-pearl buttons. 

Her throat ached with tears as she changed into it, the gown fitting like a glove. It wasn’t particularly figure-showing or revealing, but beautiful, nonetheless. The sleeves were loose until they cuffed just below the elbow, pearl buttons running up the sides. The curtain moved to the side and Odette stepped in, smiling as she zipped up the back, “Thought you might need some help.”

Elide smiled gratefully, pressing her lips together to keep her tears at bay. She breathed out slowly, smoothing her hands over the bodice, her fingers tracing the decorative pearl buttons that went up her sternum to a dropped v-shaped neckline. “It’s beautiful.”

“It was my mother’s. It was a scandal, you know, the marriage. You see, she was from the Toka nation – the Ozuye’s long-time foe. But still, she married my father and we had a happy life.” Odette gently undid Elide’s ponytail from her run and gathered her hair in a low bun. “Lorcan looks at you the same way my father did my mother. I hope you know just how much he loves you.”

“I do,” Elide replied, tears pooling in her eyes.

They heard Aelin holler, “Well, come on out! We want to see!”

Elide and Odette chuckled, “Always a rebel rouser, that one.” Odette kissed Elide’s cheek and opened the curtain to usher her out.

They all squealed and clapped as Elide stepped onto the pedestal, looking at herself in the mirror. Admittedly, she looked gorgeous, and Aneha stepped closer, scrutinizing with a pincushion on her wrist. “How does it feel?”

“Perfect, really. Except for maybe the waist,” she pulled in the extra fabric and Aneha nodded, her eyes narrowing as she pinned the dress in place.

She moved to the back and pulled at the shoulders, “I’ll fix these, as well, just raise them a bit. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Elide murmured, looking at Odette as she walked up with a jewellery box in hand.

“Here, we thought you might need something borrowed or blue.” She opened the box and lifted out a dainty silver chain with an oval-shaped blue jade. Odette stood behind Elide, bumping her daughter out of the way to gently lay it around Elide’s throat.

The stone was cool against the skin of her chest and she gasped a bit at the feeling as Odette put her hair back in a twist, clipping a tortoiseshell hair clip around her hair.

Elide barely heard their compliments as she stared at herself, her eyes welling. She’d forgotten what this was all like.

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan was sitting in the boat, reclined and dozing in the warm sun when he was woken abruptly by Elide, her eyes red-rimmed. “Can we go.”

“What happened—”

“I need to get out of here, so can you please just drive?” He didn’t ask any more questions and steered the boat out of the marina. “Move over. I want to drive.”

“Elide, wait—”

She pushed him out of the way and grabbed the wheel, pushing on the lever until they were cruising at max speed, slicing aggressively through the water. Lorcan let out a shouted curse and grabbed onto the window, eyes wide and on Elide as she drove. “What are you doing? What happened?”

“Your family loves you, you know that?”

“Yes, I fucking know that! Why are you going so fast, what happened?”

“You know that they love you and you’re still lying to them!”

“What did you think was going to happen when we got up here?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t think about it!” In a flash, she let go of the wheel and stumbled to the seat as Lorcan swore and caught it, still remaining at the top speed as he yelled at her.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever fucking heard in my life, Elide.”

“I forgot, ok?!”

“Forgot what?”

“I forgot what it’s like to have a family, you bastard! I’ve been on my own since I was fourteen and spent all my time studying to get away from Perranth! I forgot what it’s like to have people love you and hug you just because and give you necklaces and ask to spend the holidays with you! And you have that here and I’m just ruining everything!” ”

Lorcan didn’t know where this was coming from and he got angry, “You didn’t fucking think about that? No, of course you didn’t! Of course, you didn’t think about how this could fuck up my entire life because all you care about is you! You’re the most selfish person I know, Elide!” There was a buoy in his path and he swerved violently to avoid it. “Hellas below, I get that you’re freaking out, but you can’t just commandeer a boat you don’t know how to drive!”

He finally slowed the boat and waited for her reply, only, it never came. Lorcan scoffed, “Oh, yeah, that’s real mature, princess, just ignoring- Elide?” he turned around and didn’t see her. Confused, he glanced around, wondering where she could’ve gone. He bent down, wondering if she’d maybe crawled under the bench.

Somebody screamed and he looked up in his wake, seeing somebody thrashing in the water. “Shit, shit, shit, Elide!” Pale hands broke the surface and bubbles popped up as she fought to reach air.

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

The ocean was bitingly cold and wet, dark all around her. She couldn’t breathe, saltwater shoving up her nose and burning in her throat. She thrashed, fighting to get to the surface and a breath of air. As she broke free, she screamed, hearing him yell for her to swim to the buoy.

Using all her strength, Elide made her way to the metal structure, grabbing the iron rung of the ladder and clinging to it. Elide climbed up carefully, not moving her legs until she had a death grip on the next rung.

Waves splashed against her as Lorcan slowly approached her, reaching a hand out. “Grab my hand, Elide.”

She glanced fearfully at the water, his hand, and the boat, judging the distance to be too great and shook her head. “It’s too far. I’m going to fall.”

”Every time you fall, I promise I will catch you, just grab my hand.” She didn’t move. “Princess.” Slowly, she stretched her arm out and grabbed his wrist. “There you go, it’s ok, let go of the ladder.”

She did and he pulled her through the water to the boat, tugging her up effortlessly and sitting her on the plush leather seat, kneeling down and grabbing a blanket from one of the compartments. Her whole body was wracked with great big shivers and he wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, sitting next to her and pulling her into his lap. He shucked off his thick sweater, draping it over her as well. 

Lorcan rubbed her arm, getting the blood flowing through her body as she shook. “Why would you do that, you know you can’t swim,” he berated her, his heart still slamming in his chest as he started the boat again. Elide pressed her face into his neck, the tip of her nose freezing against his warm skin. “You just can’t go around trying to drown yourself when you’re insulted, Elide.”

Elide’s teeth were clacking loudly together as she said, “You made me fall in, bastard. It’s all your fault.” She knocked her forehead against his jaw and glared up at him, nothing like the intimidating scowl that was usually directed at him. “You lost me.”

He shifted her so he could wrap his other arm around her as well and still keep a hand on the wheel. “I will always find you, Lochan. I promise.” Elide looked up at him, something warming in her heart. “Ok?”

She nodded and tucked herself further into his chest, “Ok.”

Lorcan smiled down at her, smiled at the way she folded herself into him so naturally and felt something stir in his chest, similar to what he’d felt holding her this morning in their bed. Only this time, he let himself hold her tighter and his grin grew wider, unbeknownst to her.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

an: aw it’s cute 

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