#and gave my character the ability impulsiveness which turned out to be one of our most powerful abilities

[do-you-know-this-adhd-character]

Do you know this (noncanon) ADHD character?

Evidence below the cut!

can be pretty hyperactive, forgets things regularly (even important things, forgot he turned into a heartless in kh1), distractable, later on he seems to have some problems with emotional dysregulation. hes constantly called lazy by his friends but as soon as hes doing something he likes he has all the energy in the world, and also tends to dismiss his own intelligence despite actually being pretty smart, both of which are things that i think are decently common with undiagnosed adhd

[ashiemochi]

pussidon - ACT I | iii

✠ Pussidon ↳ sounds like trouble ↳↳ can we eat it?

➶ pairing: OC x Leon S(exy) Kennedy. ➶ genre: fluff, angst, gore, smut/suggestive themes ➶ word count: no

NOTE: ✠ = time skip ✠✠ = switching povs/characters

prev -> next

Let’s play the ‘you’re in imminent danger so it’s better to stay quiet’ game!

Why?

Because the entire way to the palace and through the rooms, all So Ah saw were dead soldiers. Their bodies were mutilated and she rarely ever found the cause of it lingering around. It being those lickers; she was not looking forward to meeting one in person. A live one that is. 

Leon gave her a bit of information about them of what he knows and she decided they made mutated George sound like a little doggie. 

Like Hunnigan had mentioned, lickers were completely blind and only led by sounds. They were super fast which makes running not ideal for our little Sonic the hedgehog wannabe. The claws they had were extremely sharp, using them to climb, crawl, and of course, kill. Their heightened sense of hearing made it very difficult to engage one in a gunfight without being sure if there was another one lingering right around the order. 

She didn’t know why they were called lickers though. 

Maybe they lick their prey to death?

Or their tongues had a rough texture like that of a lion where if you get licked by them, your skin comes off?

So Ah didn’t want to ask.

Rounding the corner to a massively long hallway, So Ah was met with more corpses of soldiers. The walls were scarred by three thick and long indentations. She didn’t need to think too much to know that those were by the creatures. 

So Ah had her gun up warily, following Leon’s suit as they proceeded down the hallway. He was ahead of her, willingly taking the lead. Her eyes connected with a puddle of blood on the floor that seemed to ripple with new drops of the substance. She held out her hand to his arm to get his attention and pointed at the puddle. 

Leon furrowed his brows at this and looked up. The way his grip on his gun tightened was what made her turn her head up. 

And she wished she didn’t.

Two large lickers were on the ceiling as if watching over the cemetery they had made – minus the fact they can’t see shit. So Ah wished she had their ability because seeing the way their muscles shifted as they plopped to the ground in front of them made her want to book it. 

But a simple glance from Leon reminded her that it was a bad idea. 

Their elongated claws made clanking sounds when they touched the marble floor, growing louder as the two of them had gotten closer. Leon silently ushered her to move forward. 

‘Follow my suit.’

No need to say that twice. 

Her gun was trained up, having her finger not on the trigger because she knew her anxiety would impulsively pull it. One of the lickers strolled on by, crawling over one of the dead bodies. The other was a bit too close for comfort, walking between our human duo and So Ah gave Leon a scared look at being kind of separated. 

When it walked on by, a small soft sigh came from her lips – and it froze. 

Leon and So Ah stilled when the licker turned to the sound of her sigh. It was one of the quietest sighs ever and the fact it still picked up on it made So Ah want to disappear. In a raspy growl, the licker opened its mouth and –

Now So Ah gets why they’re named lickers. 

The tongue writhed in front of her face, sensing and tasting the air. Silently, So Ah turned her eyes towards Leon, clearly showing how disgusted yet horrified she was. Leon brought a finger up to his lips with a serious stare, knowing her trembling lips were holding back audible sounds then kept his aim up at the one trying to find her.

On any normal day, Leon wouldn’t mind hearing anything that comes out of those plum cherry lips – but right now, he needed her to be quiet. In some way, he knew the pathogen wouldn’t be fast enough in patching her body up from the aftermath of the licker attack. 

As if eternity had passed by, the licker retreated its tongue and turned around to join its partner. Her knees would’ve buckled if it weren’t for Leon stepping close to hold her arm, urging her to move forward as quickly as possible without triggering them again. She let him lead her ahead but then froze at the sounds of them snarling at one another. 

Leon looked at them, noticing they didn’t figure out about him and his lover and then turned back ahead. So Ah stayed close this time, keeping her footsteps silent. Then a hand shot out, latching onto her ankle. Like her tension and anxiety snapping like a rubber band, a loud yelp emitted from her, jolting in the air. The half-alive soldier had a pleading look on his face but she couldn’t focus too much on that when the lickers growled at them. 

Fuck, they know. 

“Sorry, but I’ve already called dibs on her.” Leon responded wittily to the military man then grabbed her upper arm, pulling her towards them before urging her ahead, “Run!”

Without any questions, So Ah ran. The soldier tried to fend for his totally long-lasting life but the licker ripped him apart. The other one chased after the couple. Leon, having picked up on it closing in on them, twisted around briefly to dig a handful of bullets into its exposed brain. It fell limply to the ground but its partner jumped over the carcass. 

So Ah’s eyes connected with the gates and Leon slammed them open. An audible gasp came from both of them when there wasn’t a new room on the other side of the doors. Leon kept his grip hard on the doorknob as So Ah fell, both arms finding refuge to latch around his leg. 

The adrenaline kept her hold on him as firm as possible to keep her from falling into the deep pits of wherever the long drop led. She watched in panting shock as the last licker leapt through the door, howling loudly when it jumped straight down. 

So Ah was breathless, to say the least, swallowing thickly, “That explains why they’re called lickers…”

“They were involved in Raccoon City too…” Leon chuckled just as breathless, gazing down at her then paused to scan the high distance and the mechanics around them, “What is this?”

“It looks like an elevator or something…” She answered, looking down into the distance before groaning, covering her face into his calf as she mumbled, “Why does it always have to be underground?”

“You can ask that again,” Leon snickered, feeling her soft breath warm up his skin through his jeans. A burning sensation was starting to grow within his arm at the tension, reminding him of their current position. He looked over to the side, finding a ladder that led down. 

“Think you can make it to that ladder?”

So Ah glanced to her right side, blinking then nodded once she finished calculating the small distance between her body and the ladder, “Yeah – just… Give me a second…”

Leon pushed his leg back, directing her as close as possible to it and she quickly grabbed onto it. Slowly but hastily, she released his leg, using both hands to hold the steel bar.

“Okay, I got it.”

“Good.”

Leon shifted his hold on the knob to the other arm on the other side of the door, swaying his body lightly to widen the door more. He leapt to the ladder under her, grunting when his chest bumped against the steel. 

“Are you okay?” So Ah asked worryingly, peaking down at him as she could only see the top of his head, his beautiful ash-brown hair for show. 

She really needed to ask about his haircare routine. 

“Yeah,” Leon answered then looked up at her to make sure she was alright but something glimmering underneath her skirt caught his attention.

Smirking, Leon teased, “Aw, you have the knife that I gave you.”

In an instant, her face turned red, growing flustered by the second of it as she squealed with her eyes wide. She should’ve known better not to be the one on top in ladder-climbing. 

“Leon! Eyes down!”

✠

Having made their way through the central gate, So Ah let her eyes automatically take in her strange surroundings. Leon stayed ahead, walking slowly close by with such hawk steel blue eyes. From what she could see, it was filled with cargo and massive storage containers. 

She didn’t want to know what was inside them so she resorted to trailing her curious ambers to the centre of it all. A spacious new room stood large and tall in the middle; sort of like its own special kind of cargo. As Leon glanced to his side and his girl moved ahead, he picked up on the quietness of it all. 

Was there really no one here?

Inside the compartment, she could pick up on the little pale blue cubicles spreading all over the walls. It literally looked like a beehive. 

A small sound of astonishment emitted from So Ah, catching Leon’s attention as he walked up to stand next to her. He ticked his head to the side at the sight, wariness clearer than day within those azures of his. 

“Pretty impressive for an old nuclear shelter.” 

Quick distant footsteps echoed throughout the shelter, growing louder. So Ah found them familiar, especially since the runner had heels. She looked at Leon who shared the same knowing look.

“Ada.”

“Yep.”

Speaking of the devil, the woman came into view, slowing down her run. She stood there for a moment as if sensing the presence of the couple. A little twitch irked up the corner of Leon’s lips. 

“So, you missed us, huh?”

What a tease.

“Yeah,” Ada turned to face them, giving him a feigned exasperated look, “In your dreams.”

Ada looked at So Ah who only flashed her a small smile – finding it a bit contagious, she returned it. Yet her eyes held something else as if anticipating a reaction of the sort. The biohazard world wasn’t kind to anyone – trauma or not, the virus doesn’t exist to make it better. 

Only worse. 

Slowly, the three made their way into the room. Ada chose to break the silence.

“You seeing what I’m seeing?” She asked the couple.

“Uhuh,” Leon hummed, keeping his eyes fixed on the minuscule cubicles, “It’s like a beehive.”

So Ah, filled with innocent curiosity, walked down the pathway to one of the little cubes, “What’s in these?” She murmured under her breath, peaking into it. 

Oh.

Oh.

The virus inside wriggled its tentacles as if trying to intimidate her, mouth pulsating once in a bite. It made her feel squeazy and she actually wanted to empty her guts in some corner. A warm presence stood next to her, peering into the container. 

“What is it?” Leon asked before he was silenced when he saw the little creature. 

Ada stayed back next to the monitor, hands leaning back against it as she called out, answering, “It’s the Plaga.”

Shuddering, So Ah tore her eyes away clearly uneasy as she spoke quietly, “Makes me feel worse knowing that thing was inside me at some point.”

Leon set a comforting hand on the small of her back, offering her a sympathetic frown. Ada turned around to the device, hand coming up to begin tapping on the screen. Amusement was evident in her voice as she spoke. 

“Workers have been cultivated in the past but this…” Ada sounded astonished, an impressive sly smile on her red lips, “This is the first time that the dominant members of the species have been cultured.”

Leon furrowed his brows, slowly stepping towards her with So Ah close by, “What are you doing?”

“I’m working,” Ada said vaguely, “Don’t worry about it.”

You know, in an Ada Wong way.

“Oh, I’m worried.” Leon mused before a new voice barked out. 

“Enough!”

Soldiers piled in, surrounding them from all sides. Their guns were up as if taking them in. So Ah instantly felt anxious, hand shooting down to grip Leon’s jacket’s sleeve as she stepped back cautiously. Her eyes darted to every gun training on them. 

Another pair of heel-steps came in, separating the soldiers in the centre like parting the Red Sea. She oozed with high authority, not as similar to the suited man behind her. So Ah assumed that was her assistant of the sort. 

Leon flashed her a concerned narrowed look before partially raising his arms and like a lost puppy, she followed suit.

“So, this is what you’re here for.” The lady started then a coy smile reached her pink lips to see Ada, “Well, are you satisfied?”

“Yes, thank you very much.” Ada replied back just as coyly. 

The woman faced Leon and So Ah with a curious look, “Who are they?”

Her assistant leaned in, just as confused, “I don’t know.”

“He’s an American agent and that’s his wife,” Ada answered for them, holding back a snicker when Leon glared at her from the corner of his eyes. 

So Ah, however, had her brain set on ‘his wife’ – but as if remembering their current position, she chose to shove it under the rug. Maybe when they’re safe and sound, she could move the carpet aside to overthink the word more. 

“Well, now that we got that out of the way…” Leon spoke sarcastically, knowing from experience the military has a thing against the Americans. 

And the rebels too but this wasn’t about them.

“An American?” Forest green eyes scanned the agent from head to toe then back up to his Greek sculpted face, a smirk reaching her lips. It was plainly obvious that the woman didn’t care much about ‘his wife’ – he was a sight to see. 

Protectively though, he moved slowly to partially cover So Ah behind him, returning the glint as if challenging her. Yet, Leon subtly revealed that his ‘wife’ was all he cared about right now. 

So Ah blinked at the lady then glanced over at Ada with an exasperated look as if saying, ‘You seeing this shit?’

Ada could only conceal her amusement, ‘Jealous?’

“You’d better watch out. That old broad’s got a bite worse than her bark.” Ada quipped – as always – vaguely. 

“Say what?” Leon narrowed his eyes in confusion at her, but she didn’t answer.

Swiftly, she turned around and pressed a button on the keyboard. Everything around them went dark instantly and the only lights were coming from the pulled triggers of the rifles. So Ah didn’t even want to be caught in a crossfire. Stumbling momentarily, her hand latched onto Leon’s gloved one and she felt him squeeze her right back. 

And she booked it.

✠

“Don’t move.”

As Leon held the woman hostage by having a gun to her back, So Ah had found her spot on top of a storage box at a safe distance. When one of the nearing soldiers got too close for comfort, she pulled the trigger. The bullet of the sniper hit the ground right in front of his foot, keeping him at bay. 

She didn’t know what Leon was planning but she was still going to keep him safe.

 “Do you have any idea who you are pointing your gun at?” The leader asked rhetorically.

“Hmm, yeah. Lemme see…” Leon hummed as he stopped moving, “You’re the beekeeper?”

A scoff, “The beekeeper?”

“The person who released the Plaga.” Leon pressed on with a snap. 

“Just as I thought, you haven’t a clue.” She sounded so amused in a ‘haha you’re fucked’ kind of way, “I am the President of this country.”

Fuck.

✠

She easily knocked out the gun from Leon’s hands.

Double fuck.

✠

“They’re an enemy of the state – kill them!”

So Ah ducked to take cover behind the cargo box and soon after Leon joined her. He holstered his handgun to pick up his rifle. As the gunshots clanked wildly against the metal box, the girl gave Leon a look with her hand hovering over her tactical belt.

She slowly took out a grenade.

“Not now.” Leon only said.

She slowly returned it back. 

✠

As proof that this day could only get worse, lickers returned but this time a pack of them. They demolished the soldiers and in a wild panic, the men were still trying to fight back – with their guns. Lowkey, she wished she would inform them that the creatures follow sound but then again; they did try to kill her and Leon so…

Sucks to suck. 

Our human duo ran across the room, taking advantage of the situation and Leon’s head snapped up to a man standing on top of the walkway with a licker by his side. So Ah picked up on Leon’s low huff, following his line of sight. 

It was Sasha. 

Leon climbed up the ladder to the top of the massive cargo box and So Ah followed, panting heavily as she stood next to him. Sasha looked over at them, silently as if unbothered by the lives being taken in the distance. 

Once again – sucks to suck. 

“Did you use it?!” Leon asked loudly but it was clear that he knew the answer. 

Sasha only glowered with a faint scoff, his eyes becoming redder as he nudged the licker next to him, “Get him.”

In terms of reaction time, So Ah was practising. Being the scout, she was expected to have a quick reaction time to take action as fast as possible – but as it was mentioned, she was still practising. 

That being said, Leon was tackled to the ground with the licker on top of him. Fear instantly filled her up when she stumbled and fell to her side, calling out his name as she looked down to see him struggling with the creature. 

“Leon!”

“Don’t let him get away!” Leon shouted at her, dodging a swipe from the licker. 

“But – !”

“Just go!”

Leon truly was hella fucking ballsy. Her hesitance was heavy on her feet as she pulled herself up. Following his order, she jumped over the storage to another, eyes trained on Sasha making his escape. Something told her he wasn’t really escaping – more like following someone else. 

Like the President for example. 

A hitched gasp emitted from her when another licker leapt at her and she ducked, rolling forward to avoid the attack. The licker landed behind her with a screech, clawed hands ripping the steel like scissors to paper. 

The gasp caught Sasha’s attention for only a second, stopping in his place to look over at the girl. He never really questioned why the strange woman was accompanying the American agent – he just fully assumed she was in his way. Silently, he watched as she fought the licker. 

With a grenade. 

Smart.

So Ah hurriedly tried to get up as the licker rapidly approached her. In one swift movement, she unpinned her incendiary grenade, shoving it in its mouth when it nearly took a chunk out of her face. A comical yelp came from her when she slipped from the edge of the container and fell off the storage just in time for the grenade to explode. 

Nothing but burnt bloody charcoal dripped from the deaddead licker.

Sasha was mildly amused but not enough to forget his mission. 

And so, he left, heading straight to the corrupted President.

✠

With the lickers seemingly changing their mind about fighting the soldiers, Leon took the chance to find his lover – who was still in her usual spot. She looked quite terrified to death but still alive. 

“You alright?” Leon asked, kneeling down next to her as his eyes instinctively scanned her for any sort of wounds or injuries. 

“Mhm.” So Ah nodded, swallowing thickly before looking at him apprehensively, “I’m sorry – I couldn’t catch him. One of those creatures attacked me and –"

“Hey, it’s okay. What matters now is that you’re still alive,” Leon interrupted her gently, offering one of his cheeky grins and a hand, “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

He knew she tried because So Ah was that thoughtful. She cared about him and his views way more than she’d like to believe – following his orders during missions if need be. Leon was the same towards her – he couldn’t help it. She got a taste of this life in a single night and still chose to stay with him. 

What more could he ask for?

Red rushed to her cheeks, giggling faintly before setting her hand on his. 

“Right.”

A loud alert noise buzzed and echoed into the air, interrupting their moment with a flashing dreadful red alarm.

“That doesn’t sound good.” Leon chimed, tightening his hold on her hand and lifting her up to her feet.

A BIOHAZARD RELEASE HAS BEEN DETECTED. EVACUATE. EVACUATE. THE INCINERATION OF THE FACILITY WILL BEGIN SHORTLY.

How worse could this day really get?

✠

“Oh, god.” So Ah gawked at the TWO tyrants emerging from their capsules.

“They made him bigger.”

To cope with the horror, she resorted to giving them names. 

✠

The chase to run for her life began instantly the moment one of the tyrants – Dumb – had set his eyes on her. Leon took his attention by shooting him, giving So Ah the chance to make the run for it to find something. Her grenade would probably be swatted away like a measly fly during a hot Summer night.

As if smelling the gasoline in the air, her eyes lit up at the sight of some fire canisters. She holstered her gun in hurry, calling out to Leon and she pointed at the gas tanks.

“Leon, look!” 

Leon, picking up on the strange excitement glint in her eyes along with the tanks, got the memo. Having agreed on the silent plan, So Ah ran off to line up the tanks whilst Leon chose to distract Dumb. The wheels under the container creaked noisily as she pushed it next to the other box of inflammable. 

So Ah wasn’t a fan of loud sounds or explosives – she was a fan of the damage it had against enemies. To her; the bigger, the better – but that didn’t apply to literal gigantic bioweapons that could squeeze her head as if making an orange juice. 

Add explosive grenades to her anxious nature, the moment her panic hits sky-high, she will toss a bomb. It was one of the reasons why the BSAA sort of dreaded when she locates any sort of explosives during their missions. She’d save their life, yes, but at the risk of losing it. 

Yet, she always managed to work it out. At some point, she was grounded from having any grenades on her, but that was a story for another day.

A pair of heavy thudding footsteps made her perk up. She could peak the head of the other giant – Dumber – from the tall cargo. He was following after Sasha. The lickers would try and hinder him but the attack wouldn’t last long. 

“Leon, the guy’s in trouble!” So Ah called out for her lover who got into her line of sight. 

Leon found the canisters all lined up and ready then yelled, “Go! I got this!”

✠

So Ah skittered to a stop next to Sasha, interrupting the stare competition between him and Dumber. Her hand hovered over his arm with a thin smile as if not as bothered by the tall creature behind her. 

“We might wanna take cover.” She hurriedly suggested, earning a confused look from Sasha. 

A gruff growl came behind her and she took out her gun to shoot Dumber in the face. Luckily, she took out his eye and he stumbled back. Unluckily though –

“Leon, now!”

When the explosion erupted from the side, Sasha was tugged out of the way. It sent Dumb tumbling over and colliding with Dumber. The flames were hot against their faces as one of the tyrants’ hands swished past their bodies, nearly latching onto Sasha but So Ah – again – pushed him back. 

“Run!!” With Leon’s roaring order coming through the flames as he shot the tyrants, So Ah jumped into action. 

“Come on, lean on me.” She helped Sasha move but he refused her offer, choosing to stumble with his hand clutching his chest.

As they made the run for it to the elevator, Sasha picked up on So Ah being intentionally slow enough to not leave him behind. Her cinnamons were stricken with adrenaline and fear as she ‘ran’ beside him. She could just make her escape so easily – she may be short but he saw her run before.

She was fast.

Letting his curiosity get the better of him, he asked, “Who are you?” His voice was strained, seemingly in pain, “You’re always with the American.”

She looked up at him, as if surprised that he spoke to her, “Well, can’t keep a couple apart, right?”

She was growing flustered, recalling Ada’s words back in that underground parking lot – wherever Leon goes, a Han is always nearby.

“My name’s So Ah,” She introduced herself, looking over her shoulder momentarily to see Leon growing near from the distance, “You know, from the Han family.”

Sasha only furrowed his brows at her words, shaking his shoulders in a single shrug, “Never heard of them.”

Literal stars appeared in her eyes. This was the first-ever raw impression she has on anyone, not being judged by her family status. Completely and utterly, pure.

Oh, she’s definitely getting this man out of here alive.

[super-lad]

indulging myself on talking about my bg3 party (spoilers below):

Silas - Wood Elf - Assassin

Went for Dark Urge since its the only origin character you can customize, but Silas is actually my Skyrim OC whose been inexplicably transported to the Forgotten Realms. Won't get into specifics since the Dark Urge gives him amnesia, but it's fun to play an evil character trying and failing to resist their impulses. The Dark Urge storyline is actually a bit similar to Silas's actual backstory, but, alas, he doesn't remember it and probably never will. He does still have PTSD with bows (he's not sure why), so dual swords and throwing knives are his go-to.

Gameplay-wise, he lacks in raw power and depends on Advantage while staying invisible. Basically, he needs to one-shot people each turn to not die, which is pretty in character for a compulsive murderer. He is quite squishy, however. Well, the whole team is. I'm thinking of multiclassing him with Fighter or Barbarian to get a higher Armor Class (which is also a shoutout to his Skyrim storyline).

Romance-wise, I'm going for a main love triangle with Astarion and Wyll. Hopefully, the two characters are OK with polyamory in the end. Plus, the two have a great dichotomy; think Kara Danvers vs Livewire. And trying to keep approval from two opposite sides of the moral alignment chart has been... slow. Silas got no action in Act 1 besides a chaste kiss with Wyll and Astarion is just beginning to tolerate him. To speed things up, I gave Astarion an open tab on Silas's blood. This diagnoses Silas with acute anemia. Symptoms? An almost constant penalty in his Ability Checks. Worth it? It better be!

Astarion - Arcane Trickster

Astarion is someone I didn't care much about and planned to replace for a better party member. Alas, I got annoyed with his constant disapproval of my character, which made me determined to see him like Silas in the end. His jaded personality is clearly a result of his traumatic past, so I'm interested to see how much he changes when given a (comparatively) healthier dynamic. I like that Silas and Astarion have similarly evil tendencies, so I'm curious to see whether they make each other worse or better.

Gameplay-wise, he works similar to Silas. Squishy and needs Advantage to be good. He's our main archer, which keeps him off the frontlines, so he doesn't die as much. Doesn't use magic much in combat either, but he does have all the utility spells helpful in non-combat situations i.e. Feather Fall.

Wyll - Warlock

Wyll is the Kara Danvers of BG3. He's a superhero with a seemingly unattainable level of altruism. As you can imagine, I was obsessed. And like Supergirl, he has a hidden dark streak, which is interesting to see play out. Being good is a choice. He always chooses good despite the cost. Silas definitely idealized Wyll when he first met him hoping to become a better person by osmosis. However, after discovering the Warlock's powers come from a Fiend contract, Silas became disillusioned. I think its clear that our resident superhero could change the Dark Urge, but Silas isn't sure if he's ready to let go of that. And I'm curious to see how how stagnant Wyll's morality remains as the story progresses.

Gameplay-wise, he's our biggest damage-dealer. His spells can hit and debuff multiple enemies HARD. Still squishy, but he makes up for it by killing before they can get to him. Plus, it helps to have Silas and Shadowheart keep them distracted.

Shadowheart - Cleric

Shadowheart was someone I, too, planned to replace at the first opportunity. And I did. Once we got Karlach, a buff giantess devil-lady with a heart of gold, it was bye-bye healer, hello absolute unit with lethality that far outstrips anyone else in the party. And I love LOVE Karlach (I'm still going to pursue her and lae'zel's personal quests), but at that point, the main trio had been with Silas throughout 80% of Act 1, and I was surprised to find Shadowheart had grown on me. She's actually quite witty and complex once you get past the masochistic goddess she worships. We also come across her fellow fanatics a lot throughout the story, so its fun to see someone become conflicted with the religious dogma they were raised with. I also like that she's a twist on the typical healer archetype. She's not altruistic like Wyll. She worships darkness, but not because she's evil, but because it's all she ever knew. I'm most interested to see where she is with her faith in the end.

Gameplay-wise, a healer is indispensable as we all know. She actually has the highest strength stat in the group, so she's good utility i.e. moving heavy objects. Furthermore, to help mitigate the team's squishy problem, I gave her heavy armor proficiency so she's become pretty decent at soaking damage. Her spells are from the Trickery Domain, so she has a lot of buffs and debuffs, which has been critical in reducing how many hits the team takes. Essentially, since I don't like to change their original classes for roleplay reasons, I'm turning her into a pseudo-Paladin which has proven really fun to play around with. I'd say she's definitely grown the most in usefulness.

[robertamazzi]

Super Soldier King

With a slap in the face Froz slapped Sur heavily in the face and said "It seems that I spoiled you too much to make you like this" The boy who doesn't know whether he is alive disobey angrily snorted Sur turned his head looked at Ye Qian said "I'm sorry I was wrong" Ye Qian with a cigar in his mouth looked at him blankly In English Mr Ye can't understand what you're Home & Garden saying Said Froz Biting his lip Sur repeated in English "I'm sorry I was wrong I hope Mr Ye will forgive me" Finish saying turn one's head to go in the heart suffocate flustered although was to apologize but his manner and tone are naturally unwilling Little _ Say _ txt Heaven Chapter 1409 release What Ye Qian needs is not an apology from Sur An apology is not painful for him It doesn't matter whether he wants it or not Bubble-book _ bar () His target is Froz and these things are not important to him Mr Ye the son of a dog has some impulse to do things offended Mr Ye but also hope that Mr Ye adults do not count small people do not follow his general knowledge Said Froz Sur did not know Ye Qian's ability but he knew very well that the wolf tooth mercenaries in the Middle East did not know how many government forces had helped to put down the rebellion and because of the existence of the wolf tooth mercenaries M countries and some European countries did not dare to move their troops easily in the Middle East M country and those European countries have made an analysis of the wolf tooth mercenaries saying that they are the most capable and cooperative army in the world If the wolf tooth mercenaries carry out decapitation missions in the war it is believed that no country's army can destroy their plans Such a powerful force if because of offending Ye Qian and all come to the yd country then what kind of situation will the yd country be Froz dare not imagine although not necessarily the wolf tooth mercenaries can deal with the entire yd country army but at the very least certainly can turn yd country upside down With a slight smile Ye Qian turned to look at Sur and said "Can you let my friend go" Sur snorted angrily standing where he was and not wanting to go Why don't you go Said Froz China Suppliers giving Sur a hard look Sur curled his mouth looked at Ye Qian angrily and reluctantly turned away Froz looked at Ye Qian apologetically and said "I'm really sorry It's all my fault I've spoiled him since he was a child" I have only one son and I have been doting on him since he was a child which has also fostered his character Well something will happen to him sooner or later if he is like this Then after sitting down Froze went on to say "Thank you Mr Ye for not being as fussy as a son of a dog" "General Froz don't be so quick to thank n but I must give General Froz's face General Froz is famous in yd country Who doesn't know the name of the Iron-blooded Judge Although Ye Mou is not a regular army but barely a soldier Health & Medical for the soldier Ye Mou still has a very cordial and respectful feeling I prefer a man like General Froz to the Brahmins of yd "Mr Ye also knows about Brahmanism" Froz said in surprise "Even in our country there are not many people who know about Brahmanism Except for some upper-class people they don't know that there is such an organization" Looking at Mr Ye's meaning it seems that he knows a lot about Brahmanism "General Froz is joking I know nothing about Brahmanism and I only heard the name recently" Ye Qian said "this time to yd country in fact" Ye Qian's words have noat to do Although Feng Lan and Di Rang were not seriously injured they were beaten by their own son anyway and the responsibility must be shouldered by themselves He gave Sur a hard look and scolded "Hurry up and apologize to them" "Dad" Sur was a little reluctant Apologize quickly! Froz snapped leaving no room for negotiation trade-global.com

[manie-sans-delire-x]

My thoughts/analysis of We Need to talk about Kevin

From abnormal psych class paper:

The character I chose to analyze and diagnose is Kevin Khatchadourian from the 2011 film, We Need to Talk about Kevin. Brilliantly depicted by star Ezra Miller and various other child actors, Kevin is an angry, emotionally detached boy who struggles in his complex relationship with his mother. We see the unhealthy relationship develop between the two through-out the film as Kevin grows from a baby to a young man, ending in tragedy as Kevin achieves his ultimate revenge against his mother by massacring the rest of their family as well as several classmates in a school shooting.  

After carefully noting Kevin’s behavior and the way he and his mother Eva interact when he is a young child, I have decided to diagnose Kevin with reactive attachment disorder (RAD). The diagnostic criteria from the current Diagnostic and Statistical manual (DSM-5) for RAD reads as follows: 

A. A consistent pattern of inhibited, emotionally withdrawn behavior toward adult caregivers, manifested by both of the following: 

1. The child rarely or minimally seeks comfort when distressed. 

2. The child rarely or minimally responds to comfort when distressed. 

B. A persistent social or emotional disturbance characterized by at least two of the following: 

Minimal social and emotional responsiveness to others 

Limited positive affect 

Episodes of unexplained irritability, sadness, or fearfulness that are evident even during nonthreatening interactions with adult caregivers. 

C. The child has experienced a pattern of extremes of insufficient care as evidenced by at least one of the following: 

Social neglect or deprivation in the form of persistent lack of having basic emotional needs for comfort, stimulation, and affection met by caring adults 

Repeated changes of primary caregivers that limit opportunities to form stable attachments (e.g., frequent changes in foster care) 

Rearing in unusual settings that severely limit opportunities to form selective attachments (e.g., institutions with high child to caregiver ratios) 

D. The care in Criterion C is presumed to be responsible for the disturbed behavior in Criterion A (e.g., the disturbances in Criterion A began following the lack of adequate care in Criterion C). 

E. The criteria are not met for autism spectrum disorder. 

F. The disturbance is evident before age 5 years. 

G. The child has a developmental age of at least nine months. 

Specify if Persistent: The disorder has been present for more than 12 months. 

Specify current severity: Reactive Attachment Disorder is specified as severe when a child exhibits all symptoms of the disorder, with each symptom manifesting at relatively high levels. 

Kevin displays behavior that meets both criteria A and B. As a baby he cried constantly, reportedly even when held, showing an inability or unwillingness to be soothed. As a toddler he shows defiance, disinterest in social interaction, and a refusal to engage in play, such as when his mother is attempting to play with a ball with him and he refuses to roll the ball back or respond in any way, instead staring at her with a sullen expression. Kevin also refuses his mother’s pleas to say the word “Mommy”. As a slightly older child, Kevin continues to act defiantly and shows anger, ripping up the paper when his mother attempts to school him, immediately soiling his newly changed diapers on purpose, throwing food against the wall and onto tables, breaking his crayons, making nonsensical noises to irritate his mother, and destroying his mother’s artfully decorated room. When he is taken to the doctor to be examined, he shows no expression, does not speak, and stiffens his body. When his baby sister is born, he purposefully sprinkles water onto the newborn, causing her to cry. It should be noted however that in one instance Kevin seems to relax his cold exterior and accept comfort from his mother, shown by the scene in which he falls ill and cuddles with his mother while she reads him a story. He even apologizes for her having to clean up his throw-up. Unfortunately, as soon as he is feeling well again he is back to being rude and rejecting any attempt of hers to take care of him, refusing her help to change his clothes.  

As for criteria C, although Kevin has not experienced extreme abuse or neglect, I believe Kevin suffered from a traumatic birth as it was mentioned that his mother was resisting. His mother Eva did not desire a child, especially not one as difficult as Kevin, so she emotionally neglects him and is cold to him. Eva makes it very clear to him that he is unwanted, telling him straight to his face that she was happy before she gave birth to him and not correcting him when Kevin mentions that Eva does not like him. In one instance, she is accidentally too rough with him and breaks his arm, which Kevin later refers to as being the most honest thing she ever did. Kevin also meets the criteria of D through G, and his symptoms are persistent. I would say Kevin has moderate to severe symptoms as he does exhibit all listed symptoms quite regularly.  

I believe Kevin’s psychological problems may also have developed into conduct disorder (CD) as an adolescent and then antisocial personality disorder (ASPD) or psychopathy in adulthood, especially after taking into consideration the mutilation of his sister’s eye and the killing of his sister’s guinea pig, his father, his sister, and several classmates. He shows no guilt or empathy, appears to have shallow emotions besides anger, and shows no evidence of having affection or emotional bonds to anyone. He is also very manipulative; putting on a fake act of normalcy for his father, turning his parents against each other, and navigating the legal system to get his best outcome. However, I know that children with RAD can also be violent and if not treated, behave in a way very similar to conduct disorder in adolescence and ASPD or psychopathy in adulthood. The main reason I chose to focus on RAD over CD or ASPD is because I believe the root of Kevin’s problem is immense pain at being rejected and unloved as a child and that he harbors a deep desire to have that connection but is unable to accept affection.  He is so focused on and consumed by his anger towards his mother, while someone with true psychopathy may be more detached and indifferent. I also leaned more towards RAD given that he showed symptoms from such a young age and did not seem to have any problems outside of his issues with his mother, such as acting out in school or engaging in petty, impulsive crime. I do wish that the film showed more of his interaction with his peers. Lastly, I felt RAD was a more accurate choice because of the subtle signs of it that are associated more with RAD than CD, such as stiffening his body when others try to hug him, making nonsensical sounds, and not making eye contact as an infant, although that may not have been intentionally put in the film. Either way, his parents certainly needed to talk to professionals about Kevin when he was a child. Had they done so, perhaps they could have prevented the tragedy of both his life and the pain he inflicted on others.  

Response to tumblr ask:

I agree! I would have loved to see how he interacts at school, what he does when he’s alone and has spare time, and more of his childhood.

I think he had multiple reasons:

1- To make his mother suffer since he obviously has a lot of anger and resentment towards her

2- Because he doesn’t feel much positive emotion and gave up on ever feeling pleasure or enjoyment from regular life. Normal life is incredibly boring for him. He wanted to DO something- real, meaningful, make something happen. He wanted to Live. I very much relate.

3- He enjoys the attention he gets from it.

We talked about this in my forensic psych club- whether we should give interviews and all this attention to violent criminals. Our society is fascinated by them to the point where we make movies and books. People sell and collect memorabilia. They have fan-girls writing love letters and showing up to their court sessions, even fighting each other over them. It’s pretty crazy. But on the other hand, it’s important that we study them. Or is it? There’s a debate about everything.

4- His philosophy and world view. 

He is very nihilistic, he doesn’t believe life “means” anything and right/wrong doesn’t exist/is just a matter of opinion or viewpoint. His actions don’t really matter either, nothing does. I used to think exactly like he did when I was a teen, and I still do in a way.

As for your last question, it’s easy to forget one way of thinking when you’re in another. It’s hard to remember how one state was when you’re in a different one. Also, as shitty as outside life can be, life in prison is even shittier. Makes you appreciate the ability of choice and being able to do things, even just to walk around outside or buy an icecream cone. He was also only 15 at the time of the crime, and in the last scene he’s 18. A lot of chemical changes and neural development happens in that time. He matured- his way of thinking about himself, the world, and the others around him changed.

[pokeheadcannons97]

I'm not sure if requests are open or not but can you possibly write hc's for milo gordie leon and piers about having a s/o who suffers from epilepsy maybe include their reaction to the first seizure they see, and things like how they handle when s/o starts to seize/show warning signs,

I only do 3 characters at a post so I am going to do Leon, Piers, and Milo since I have Pokemon Shield

(and mama Melany)

Also, I’m speaking and writing this from my perspective of helping my aunt who has seizures regularly and will be answering in what I do and other things that I’ve looked up or found that help, please let me know if I can make it better, thank you! <3 Be safe

Leon

Even though he is super directionally challenged, he is so very perceptive. He will be the first to notice when you are about to have a seizure.

The distant look in your eyes and the nonverbal responses when he asks if you are okay are always signs you’re about to go into one.

He’s by your side in an instant, holding the back of your head up steady while rubbing your arm.

“Hey, it’s okay Y/N… you’re okay.” He repeats this all through out it, steady and comforting.

When you blink back after a few moments, eyes bleary but answer softly back to him, he knows you’re okay and out of it.

Will immediately stop what he’s doing, be it in the middle of an interview or sees you go down in the stands, he is next to you to help you through it

Wont hesitate to absolutely eradicate any disrespectfully words or jokes towards you about your seizures

When you first went into one, he had not expected it.

The two of you were out having lunch together after Leon had invited you out for a date to get to know each other more closely. He had been persistent, always engaging you in small talk when you were at work at one of the local shoppes in Wyndon. Would offer to help in carrying heavier things to help you out, and to make your work load lighter. 

You had been perfectly fine, sitting across from him eating lunch at a local restaurant that you favored, when you seemed to be staring off into the distance as he was talking.

When Leon saw your Gothita get destressed and practically climbed up on you, he knew something was wrong.

He was scared, and that was putting it lightly.

With Gothita surrounding you in her psychic powers she steadied your body and instructed Leon through her telepathy to hold your head straight to where you wouldn’t choke.

He frantically rubbed your arms, while looking for your distant eyes to come back to the cheery e/c he found so attractive.

When you started to move slowly on your own your eyes peered up at him, the distant look fading quickly.

“Mmm…? Leon?” You asked softly, trying to attempt to remember where you were and what happened.

“Y/N!” He replied a smile forming on his face, full of relief. “You’re okay, my God I was so worried, are you ok?”

“Mmmhmm… thanks to you and Gracey.” You replied with a soft smile, giving your pokemon a thankful expression, to which she cried in happiness as a reply.

“Let’s get you to the hospital, to at least get a look at you. Then I’ll make sure you get home okay.” Leon said as he helped you up with his strong arms, letting your body lean against him. “I never knew you had to deal with these. You’re so much stronger than I could ever be, Y/N.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, your stomach knotting up in that similar way it did when you would see him visit your work on his days off from the league. Most people would be so scared and standoffish, more afraid of you than anything. See you as someone that needed to be fixed, someone that was fragile, and needed to be looked after like a child.

But Leon? He shown genuine kindness, he didn’t make you out to be this weak person who had epileptic seizures. He treated you with respect. As an equal.

You were strong, something that you did not hear often in your life.

You gave a small laugh, and peered up at him, your e/c eyes shining against the streetlights. “Is it too late to ask you for a second date?”

Leon’s cheeks uncharacteristically burned a deeper red and low chuckle came from his throat. “Not at all.”

Piers

There’s not many times he’s serious, but when it comes to you, he is stone cold serious.

Will constantly ask you if you’re okay if you seem more nervous or shakier than usual.

Always holds your hand when you’re feeling more shaky, will go into any quieter space to get you to a safer environment just in case

Even though his shows can be flashy and loud, he really prefers that you stay home or listen to CD’s of the shows of his that are flashier and with more lights. He’s talked to his producers about incorporating more epilepsy friendly aspects into his shows and videos so that more people can enjoy it safely.

On the times that you do watch him, he makes sure that the place is better lit, and no strobing lights.

Will rub the top of your head softly when you go into one, and holds you to where you wont hurt yourself during it.

He knew you had them, but you said that it was less common these days. So he thought that it would most likely be a while before you had one.

The first time you had a seizure in front of him, he was terrified and confused on what to do.

You were sitting beside him, listening to him strum on his guitar as try to work out the sound to his new song.

Your Kirlia sat beside you, listening too.

When he looked up from the strings and papers he had scattered around him, rewriting certain parts he paled.

Your arms were shaking as you began to fall backwards rather quickly. Luckily your Kirlia predicted this and carefully grabbed your shoulders and placed you on your side.

Kirlia’s eyes rose to Piers and she instructed him to gently rub at your arms as she used her abilities to work on the overfiring electrical impulses your brain was having.

Piers scanned your body frantically, your twitching limbs and far off stare causing his heart to race in nervousness. He didn’t know what to do, but hoped that what he was doing helped in some way.

Your Kirlia called softly as your twitching began to stop and your eyes regained their soft e/c hue. You hummed a little as you blinked back the glaze over your eyes.

“Y/N, hey… are you with me?” Piers asked, eyebrows knitted together, refusing to leave your side.

You gave him a confused stare and nodded slowly. “Yes…what…?”

Your Kirlia touched your forehead and you understood.

“Thank you… for helping me, Piers.” You patted your Kirlia’s hand greatfully. “And you too Meena, you did amazing.”

From then on Piers was sure to be more observant and learn about how to be better prepared for the next attack. The zigzagoon brigade are always alert and ready to go into pillow mode to help you not hit your head or hurt yourself. 

Milo

The absolute best at making sure that you are taking you meds and taking care of yourself

Always tries to make sure that you have enough time to get enough sleep and goes to bed at the same time as you to help make it easier

He’s used to dealing and helping new gym challengers that have anxiety problems, so he knows how to relax you and help manage your stress

Being as strong as he is, it’s nothing for him to grab you when your legs give out when you go into one, making sure that you are laid down on your side safely

His big hands will make soothing touches and coax you through it, making sure everyone around you is quiet so you’re not overwhelmed with voices around you

If you ever feel bad about having them, he is so quick to reassure you that it is never a problem and he loves you so much

The first time you went into one

You were battling him as your first gym battle, with your Espeon battling against his Glossifleur.

You seemed so strong, easily ordering move after move from your companion, but that changed when you started to wobble on your feet, your Espeon immediately ran to your side to catch you from hitting your head and braced your body against her own and let you fall at a slower rate to the ground safely.

Milo gave a wave to the stadium, with a shout of “Everyone stop!” and made his way over to you. The stadium went into a quick and silent hush. The rotom camera, now focused on you.

Your body jerked involuntarily, your gaze far off and unfocused.

Your partner pokemon gave a cry and rubbed against your body while Milo held your head to where it would be easier for you to breath.

“Hey, Y/N… it’s okay lass. You’re okay.” He said softly, his hat blocking out the harsh sun above you. He gave your cheek a few soft pats, his green eyes searching your face.

It took about a few moments for your hands to stop seizing and jerking. When they did you let out a steady breath. You blinked slowly and gave a low hum as your eyes refocused and fell upon the grass type gym leader above you.

“There you are, are you hurt?” Milo asked you, his voice lower but understandable for your comfort.

You swallowed, and went to slowly sit up, the sun from above now shining painfully on you. You blinked your eyes shut but nodded and turned to him.

 “Yeah… just...” you began and suddenly noticed where you were and felt the anxiety well up inside of you.

“Would it be possible to…stop our battle for today? Please?” you finished and picked at a part of your nails, cheeks flushed.

“I’m sorry but I think I need to lay down for a while, I’m just wiped after…” you tried to explain yourself, your Espeon chittered next to you, rubbing against you softly.

Milo held up a hand with a genuine and kind smile. “Say no more, Y/N. Let’s get you to the nurse on call to get a look at you. Make sure you’re okay.” He rose to hit feet and held a hand out to you. “Can you stand?”

You gave a nod and stood up slowly, but wobbled a little, your legs still unsteady.

Milo scooped you up into his arms effortlessly. “Just rest, I’ll get you there safe and sound.”

And he did, 

[therewithall]

Roswell, New Mexico custom Magic: The Gathering cards

For RNM D&D Weekend Warriors, I branched out to another tabletop format and made a handful of custom Magic: The Gathering cards based on the core cast of Roswell, NM. Here’s the break-down of how I chose each character’s color(s) and abilities as well as highlight some of the neat ways they interact. None of the cards have been playtested so there is still room for them to be further developed and balanced. For anyone who isn’t very familiar with Magic: The Gathering, every card fits into various types that can be played for the cost printed in the top right-hand corner. There are 5 colors of Mana- White, Blue, Black, Red, Green- I’ll be using the letters W, U (blue), B (black), R, and G to represent the mana colors in my discussion. Each card can also have different traits and abilities, and a set of numbers that represents how strong its attack and defense are (represented as attack/defense). There’s a lot of amazingly nerdy discussion of Magic Lore that delves into how the Mana colors relate to personality traits and behaviors of the characters on the cards-- more on that here- but just know that I’ll be discussing some of those qualities as I go into why I chose the attributes for each card/character.So here we go!

Max Evans, Smalltown Hero        2WR Legendary Creature – Human Alien Vigilance, Haste (This creature doesn’t tap to attack and may attack or use tap abilities the turn it enters the battlefield.) T, Sacrifice a nonland permanent: Another target creature gains indestructible until end of turn. Max is a deputy with the sheriff’s department and a natural leader who has kept his powers and identity a secret for years. 3/1

Max is kind hearted and wants to protect his community and friends. On the other hand, he’s impulsive and will make rash decisions without thinking about the consequences of his actions. These two beliefs place him firmly in red/white for Magic colors; a combination that often plays small aggressive creatures and engages in frequent combat. I gave Max vigilance to represent him being a defender as well as an aggressor in a lot of circumstances. His ability to sacrifice something to protect someone else exemplifies his ability to both heal and destroy. Lastly he has haste and a fragile body (1 toughness) making a game with Max play out with an early attack followed by him protecting someone else and only getting in when the coast is clear.

Michael Guerin, Tech Genius      1WU Legendary Creature – Human Alien Artificer When Michael Guerin, Tech Genius enters the battlefield, search your library and/or graveyard for a noncreature artifact or enchantment card and exile it with a research counter on it. If you searched your library this way, shuffle. X, T: Create a token that’s a copy of a card exiled with a research counter. X is that card’s mana value. 2/3

Michael cares about the team differently than Max does. He is often tinkering with things in order to heal or protect others if possible and is a genius when it comes to inventions involving alien technology. His intelligence and need for knowing more fits in blue (alongside a few other science oriented characters). Whereas Max is a straightforward attacker, I chose an ability that is much more complex to understand for Michael. He makes copies of trinkets after taking the time to examine them which lends itself to more combo and control oriented play patterns instead of just blindly turning stuff sideways. I didn’t capture Michael’s temper, but I didn’t want all aliens to be red. Maybe I’ll make another version some time that incorporates different facets of their personalities.

Isobel Evans, Influencer                UBR Legendary Creature – Human Alien Your opponents play with the top card of their library revealed. 3R, T: Gain control of target creature an opponent controls until end of turn. Untap that creature. It gains haste until end of turn. 6BB, T: You control target player’s next turn. Activate only once. 1/4

Isobel has fewer words than Michael, but oh my is she complex as well. If Max leans toward aggro and Michael is combo, Isobel is the control card of the siblings. Isobel is often guided by her emotions, but channels that into careful thought in how to execute a plan and always looks out for herself and her people. Her abilities represent her powers spread across the three colors: Blue – Reading your opponent’s mind, Red – Controlling someone’s impulses for a short period, Black – Forcing your opponent’s actions, once.

Liz Ortecho, Savvy Scientist          1UB Legendary Creature – Human Rebel Liz Ortecho, Savvy Scientist can’t be blocked as long as defending player controls an artifact. Whenever Liz Ortecho deals combat damage to a player, gain control of target artifact that player controls with mana value less than or equal to the damage dealt. 2/1

Liz is smart, cunning, and will protect her own. Her science background lends itself to Blue, but this card plays up some of her devious nature of stealing hospital equipment, doing illegal research, and general sneaking around, so there’s Black in her mana cost as well. She often draws on the abilities of those around her, which means that her connections make her stronger. Amusingly, she’s unblockable against some of our other characters including her own dad!

Alex Manes, Tech Specialist            1WUB Whenever you draw a card, target creature you control gains deathtouch (Any amount of damage it deals to a creature is enough to destroy it.), lifelink (Damage dealt by that creature also causes you to gain that much life.), or vigilance (Attacking doesn’t cause it to tap.) until end of turn. Whenever Alex Manes, Tech Specialist deals combat damage to a player, create a clue token. (It’s an artifact with “2, Sacrifice this artifact: Draw a card.”) Kyle: “What’s the worst thing we could find?“ Alex: “Literal skeletons.” 2/3

Alex also sneaks around, but I wanted to play up his investigation skills a little more. Instead of just drawing a card when he does damage, he makes a clue “token”. That clue token represents information (drawing a card) that can be held onto or acted on later. He’s a character who’s able to do plenty of damage in his own right, but his big advantage is being able to help other characters do their jobs and get combat abilities they wouldn’t otherwise have. He protects his friends.

Maria DeLuca, Entrepreneur       2RG Legendary Creature – Human Alien Haste (This creature may attack and use tap abilities the turn it enters the battlefield.) Each other creature you control enters the battlefield with an additional +1/+1 counter on it. “Maria DeLuca is her own savior.” 3/2

Maria cares about her friends and her business. Her ability helps everyone and represents your other creatures being able to stop in for a drink at the bar. She gets haste to show how hard she works and has aggressive stats so she can get her hands dirty in a fight. Like Michael, I could see another version playing into her psychic powers.

Dr. Kyle Valenti                 1WW Legendary Creature – Human Lifelink (Damage dealt by that creature also causes you to gain that much life.) When Dr. Kyle Valenti enters the battlefield, put a +1/+1 counter on each other creature you control. "In a hospital it doesn't matter what someone did before they came through the doors." 2/2

Kyle is a healer and instead of showing that with damage prevention, I chose a simpler buff to the whole team. Now you’re less worried about losing fights!

Rosa Ortecho, Troubled Artist                     1BR Legendary Creature – Human Alien At the beginning of your upkeep, choose one — • Draw a card and lose 2 life. • Exile the top card of your library. Until end of turn, you may play that card. Red is armor. 3/2

Rosa was a fun one to design. She is black red which is a color combo notoriously bad at impulse control. She has aggressive stats and an ability that makes the controller make a hard choice every turn. Do I take the guaranteed draw at the cost of a couple life or do I risk not being able to cast whatever I exile? Among other things, this represents her struggle with addiction-- taking the most directly expedient option comes with some harm to her life totals- but it’s the damage you know. The second option requires you to risk the unknown, but be able to participate in the fight without automatically being harmed-- it requires you to trust your deck and your support network...but be prepared for potential setbacks.

Arturo Ortecho                 GG Legendary Creature – Human Defender (This creature can’t attack.) Whenever a nontoken creature enters the battlefield under your control, create a Food token. (It’s an artifact with “{2}, {T}, Sacrifice this artifact: You gain 3 life.”) G, T, Sacrifice a Food: Target creature gets +2/+2 until end of turn. “I already have my miracle.” 2/4

Arturo cares about his community as do many of our characters, but if there’s any color that cares about bringing everyone in for dinner, it’s green. He delivers food whenever a new creature enters and can use them as buffs instead of just life gain! His kindness and compassion sustain everyone.

Deputy Jenna Cameron                 1RR Legendary Creature – Human First Strike (This creature deals combat damage before creatures without first strike.) Whenever Jenna blocks or becomes blocked by a creature, she deals 1 damage to that creature. “Who you callin’ a girl?” 2/3

In case you can’t tell, a lot of our characters act on impulse and emotion, which is a Red trait. Cam is tough (A 3/4 is needed to best her in combat!) and efficiently deals with enemies. The faster-than-first strike damage represents her sharp shooting skill. And because of her skills, anyone going up against her is going to feel it right away.

Sergeant Jesse Manes                   2BB Legendary Creature – Human Soldier Menace (This creature must be blocked by two or more creatures.) When Sergeant Jesse Manes enters the battlefield or attacks, exile the top card of each opponent’s library face down. You may cast noncreature cards exiled this way and you may spend mana as though it were mana of any type to cast that spell. Jesse's inhumane methods leave only pain in his wake. 3/2

Jesse is a character who has his own twisted view of how his actions will better society. His card here plays up how he tends to believe the ends justify any means-- for him, at least. He steals information and uses it against those he took it from, to represent his involvement in Project Shepherd and the threat he represents not just to the safety and security of the aliens, but to anyone helping them. I chose to exclude creatures in order to make the ability a little more efficient and make it feel more like controlling the chess board and less like mind control (Which a Noah card would someday probably do).

Whew! I hope you enjoyed reading these as much as I enjoyed making them!

[sailorgreywolf-legacy]

The Beautiful Game

For @historical-hetalia-week day 6.

Plot: Russia courts a new ally against his American rival. However, he may have underestimated exactly who he is dealing with.

Characters: Russia, Mexico

Content Warning: Mentions of death and abuse

Word Count: 2.4K

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After years of clandestine planning, Russia had finally found a possible ally close to America. There had been hints that this particular ally might soon be within reach. Mexico had broken with America and objected to Cuba’s exclusion.

Russia had heard that there had been fights, though Cuba had declined to say whether he thought the relationship was going to fall apart. He seemed to put a lot of stock in respecting Mexico’s privacy.

But, Russia could see the ripples of the discontent between them, and he intended to take full advantage of it. It was just his luck that Cuba was close enough to Mexico to arrange a meeting.

As he stood in the living room of Mexico’s home he thought about how best to convince the man to abandon America. He thought it best to show how deficient America was as a friend and a lover.

The door opened and Mexico entered. He made a show of closing and locking the door. Russia assumed that it was a kind of assurance that they were alone. Then Mexico turned to him, with a look of expectation. Mexico was handsome as always, and very well dressed.

Russia led since he had been the one to suggest the meeting, “Thank you for agreeing to this. I’ve been eager to talk to you.”

He knew that it would be best to lead with honesty and a bit of flattery. Mexico had to know how important this visit was, especially since Russia had been working for years to find an inroad with him. He was not lying when he said that he had been waiting for this meeting. 

Mexico gave him a small smile that betrayed nothing and said, “I’m sure you have. Good thing that you didn’t propose it by telegram. Those have a nasty habit of being intercepted.”

Russia wasn't sure whether he should laugh at the comment. He understood the reference, but wasn’t sure if Mexico was meaning it to be humorous. Instead he said, “I do suppose I could have called.”

He was trying to make small talk, though he was sure that America was keeping a close eye on who he called. Mexico shook his head and said, “I wouldn’t recommend that either. Alfred has my phones bugged.”

Russia seized on this detail. He had guessed at it, since America was expanding his net of spies. But, he had not been certain if America trusted Mexico enough to spy on him.

He said, “So, he doesn’t trust you?”

Mexico laughed, which caught Russia off guard. He hadn’t expected Mexico to find something so serious quite so funny. Mexico caught his breath and said, “Christ, Ivan, do I not even get a bit of foreplay before you start probing me for information about Alfred?”

Russia noted that he had moved too fast. Mexico was apparently aware of the espionage and was not going to tell Russia whether it bothered him. The rumors about Mexico said that he was reckless and emotional, so he had expected that the realizing that Alfred was suspicious would be an emotional blow. But, that seemed like it was a wrong assumption.

He said, “Forgive me. I do want to talk to you without just talking about Alfred. I think we have more in common than you think.” 

He needed to remind himself that the goal was to sway Mexico’s loyalty, not to get information about his enemy. If he was successful, then the information would come.

Mexico had the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth, but it was difficult to know what it meant. He said, “We might.” Then, after a short, mysterious silence he said, “Would you play a game of chess with me? Carlos tells me that you’re very good.”

Russia was confused by the question, since it did not seem related to the politics of the moment. But, he could indulge the impulse. He was confident in his own ability to win against a reckless young man who didn’t have the foresight that chess required.

Once the game was over he could begin to test the cracks in Mexico’s relationship with America. He replied, “Very well.”

That got an encouraging smile from Mexico. In a few minutes, Mexico had set up the board and he gestured to the chair across from him and said, “Take a seat. I like a challenge.”

Russia couldn’t help but smirk. It was quite cute that Mexico thought that it might be an even game. This was a game that Russia loved dearly and could rival the masters in; he was certain that he could destroy an amateur quickly.

He said as he sat, “You know I did not come here to play games with you.”

Mexico started to pull carved wooden pieces out of a velvet bag and place them on the board. He replied as he worked, “Of course you are. You’re here to play the grandest game of all: Politics. There is no bigger game than that.”

There were light clunks as Mexico placed the pieces on the board. Russia was pleasantly surprising with the wit. He had never heard anyone but Cuba say that Mexico was so sharp.

He glanced down at the board, and remarked, “You’re giving me white?”

It was a strange move, like Mexico wanted to handicap himself. A smarter man would have given himself the advantage of going first. Mexico said, not looking at all perturbed, “Of course. You are my guest and I do want a challenge.”

Russia could not fault the confidence, even if it seemed like it could almost be arrogance. Or perhaps he was just underestimating his opponent. Either way, Russia was happy to start the game by moving out his first pawn.

As Mexico moved, Russia asked, “So what will you tell Alfred if he finds out that I was here?” The other looked up only once he was done moving his pawn, and replied, "I will tell him that we played a game of chess and that was it.”

With what they were doing, that would not technically be a lie. Russia was impressed by the forethought. But he was certain that America would not take the answer lightly.

He asked, moving his knight out to open up the board, “And if he does not accept that answer?”

He wanted to know what was at stake, and what would happen if America turned on his Southern neighbor. But Mexico responded with a quickly glance, “I do not make my decisions based on what Alfred will accept.”

He stated it as plainly as one might remark about the weather, and Russia found himself frustrated that he could not sense bitterness in the words. He wanted something to work with.

The play continued on the board as he responded, “I have seen that. You voted in favor of Cuba. No one else dared to defy Alfred’s wishes.”

Mexico took his knight with a bishop and said, “I have done more for Carlos than that, as I am sure he has already told you.”

In truth, he had already heard some of the stories from Cuba. They were intriguing. Mexico hiding Castro right under the nose of the man who wanted to keep Cuba in thrall. Cuba said that his friend had also orchestrated meetings between Cuba and the communist exiles.

It was a strange thing for a man to do when he was supposedly so loyal to America. It was one of the many stories that gave him reason to believe that Mexico could be influenced.

He replied, “I know that you hosted Castro when he was in exile. I ask myself why you would do that if you weren’t sympathetic to our cause.”

He made his move. He was not paying close attention to the game, because he was certain that Mexico would not hand him anything that he could not deal with.

Instead of  making his move, Mexico stood up and walked over to a sideboard where he poured himself a glass of ice water. As he had his back to Russia, he said, “There is a simple explanation.” He turned back and said, “Carlos is my friend, and I wanted to help him.”

He returned to his seat and contemplated the pieces while sipping water. Russia pushed him, because he felt like the answer had been a dodge, “Are you denying that you have sympathy for Socialism?”

He was certain that Mexico had some ideological convictions that he was refusing to voice. Though he had been embroiled in his own conflict, he had heard rumors that Mexico had been with Zapata and Villa during the Revolution. Cuba had refused to tell him anything about it, and he valued him enough as an ally not to push him for information.

Mexico made his move and then said, “Sympathy is a strange word. I feel sympathy for many things."

Russia took a hard look at the board for the first time. He was surprised to realize that Mexico was pressing an exceptionally solid and aggressive attack. He should not have let it get to this point, because it would take a tight defense to push back.

As he stared at the board, Mexico said, “Can I ask you a question?”

Russia moved one of his rooks into a stronger position to protect his king. He answered, still focused on the game, “Go ahead.”

Mexico moved his queen decisively into a position that could quickly evolve into check, and said, “Do you know how hard it is to find an ice axe in this city?”

Russia’s hand paused over his piece as he understood the question. This was about Trotsky and Stalin’s obsessive quest to destroy him. A quest that had culminated in a murder.

He looked up at Mexico. He couldn’t help but appreciate the build up to this moment. As he looked, he saw a man very different from the rumors. He looked calm and certain of himself, and very aware of what he had just said.

For the first time Russia felt like he understood what Cuba had been telling him. As he looked, he saw a man who was brilliant and looking at him over a winning game of chess.

This was no foolish young man that he was facing. This was a bishop, not a pawn.

The handsome face was set in the most impassive expression, but his eyes hinted at a feeling of triumph. Mexico seemed to see that he understood and added, “Alfred’s conduct may have given you the false sense that I do not value my sovereignty. But I assure you, I do.”

Russia could not believe that Mexico had really valued the life of a single Soviet exile that highly. But, he took the point. It had been an overstep, but one born out of the singular obsession of one man.

He finally replied, “Stalin is dead.” Mexico countered quickly, “And so is Trotsky. One was more natural than the other.”

Russia remembered that it was his turn and moved his king out of a vulnerable position.

Mexico spoke while he was moving, “Make no mistake. I had no attachment to the man. Giving him asylum was a favor to Frida as a friend. But he was my guest and he was under my protection.”

Russia had not agreed to the assassination, but it was not his choice. He focused on a different detail, and said, “Frida Kahlo? Were you friends with her and Diego Rivera?"

He knew those names because they were communists. Mexico seemed to be friends with a suspicious number of communists.

He looked down on the board and saw that Mexico had finally made a mistake. He had left an opening in his defense. It was the kind of glaring error that an experienced player would have seen.

Mexico replied, dodging any political implications, “Yes. I thought you saw the mural on the way in. That’s Diego’s work.”

Russia had, and he had been tempted to pause and admire the work. It was beautifully done. He moved decisively to take advantage of the opening.

He nodded, and then returned to the subject of Trotsky, “I promise you that I do not use Stalin’s methods anymore.”

Mexico took a sip of water and contemplated the game. Then he answered, “I would hope so. But how do I know that your promises are any more sincere than Alfred’s?”

Russia could see that he had a path to winning the game, and he made use of it. If nothing else he had to defend his reputation as a chess player.

He decided it was time to use the weapon he would sure have an impact. He said, “You misunderstand my intentions. I want to free the world from imperialist oppression.”

Russia removed his scarf and rubbed his neck to draw Mexico’s attention to the scars. He added, “I think you know that some scars never fade.”

For the first time in the conversation he saw real uncertainty pass over Mexico’s face. He hoped that Mexico remembered the deep scars that America had left. From the look on the other’s face he guessed that his point had made an impact as he hoped that it would.

But, Mexico did not answer until he looked at the board. Then he said, “Ah, a nasty fork. I concede.”

He knocked over his king, and looked back up at the other man. Russia was glad to have at least won, since the game had been harder fought that he expected.

He said, capitalizing on the moment, “If you were betting on a game, you would put money on the better player.”

He knew his meaning was clear. On the world stage, as on the chess board, he was much stronger than America.

Mexico took a long drink of water before saying, “You assume that I have to gamble at all. I think that I can give my money to my friends when they need it. I do not need to do more than that.”

Russia understood, though this protestation of neutrality frustrated him. He wanted to push Mexico to choose a side because his own ideals seemed to align so strongly with communism.

However, he knew that it would be a tactical error to do so. Mexico had shown himself to be clever and calculating. It would take a much more developed strategy to convince him that neutrality was not the way. Russia conceded for the moment.

He extended his hand and said, “Thank you for the game and the conversation.” Mexico took it in his own firm grip and said, “Thank you for the challenge. If you want to play again, do get in contact. You know how to reach me.”

[hungryflowers]

Sensing Lamentation

Title: Sensing Lamentation

Rating: General Audience

Fandom/Continuity: Balan Wonderworld

Character Relationship(s): Leo Craig/Balan

Character(s): Leo, Balan, Past Character (Unnamed), Lance (Only Mentioned)

A/N: I’ve been in a funk for quite awhile, so I decided to do this to hopefully make me feel better. 2020 was a rough year and these last few days have torn out my soul. I want to write this as a small means of healing myself. Also, I’m a slight out of practice with my writing craft, so if any errors, I apologize.

Other: This isn’t a ship! Regardless of what the ‘Character Relationship’ part says, keep in mind that Leo is fifteen years old and Balan is potentially eldritch aged. He’s seen all sides of humanity, so he gets it. He’s not attracted to the boy, nor will I write him to be. Just putting that out there before y’all get to thinking that he a ‘cradle robber’ who lures in heartbroken kids.

He was more than content with sitting in the whist, luminescent room. Parchment on one end, tar-like ink on the other, the Maestro had made a day for himself to just... create. A tune swirled in his mind, the musings of the melody playing on repeat as he etched time out of his day to put it to paper. The endeavor was not a failed one, yet it hardly yielded the desired results. Feather to temple, Balan stretched his elongated back. Sunlight had eluded him in the short time he sat. Eyes glanced for the nearest time telling device in the room; eight forty-five. He had been at the same table, staying finicky over the same paper for the same tune for nearly four hours. Not a new reaction, yet he was normally more productive. Sighing, he adjusted his wide-brimmed top hat as he moved around to restock, stock, or keep tabs on anything necessary for anymore acts. 

The little tims peeped and scuttle along, following the maestro as if he’d been a pied piper. Playful eyes shimmered with glee as he picked up the few that straddled his lanky legs. Placing them on a crate, he kept at his inventory. They still peeped and chimed, more frequent and annoyed. 

“None of that...” A quiescent quip from the maestro had them calmed. It seemed that have to find another opportunity to have Balan’s attention. 

In the after math of busying himself with caring for little things, the maestro had failed to notice, or hear the subtle steps of a child passing by. The shock of hearing another breathing individual was enough to make him pause. Standing to his full height Balan went around looking for the soul whom had trespassed without him acknowledgement. He was quite forthcoming with introductions or having someone speaking to him before departing. It was in good manner to appear respectful to those around you. 

The steps he had neglected to hear before ventured up the stairs to the next floor. Which was quite odd, as only guests that Balan himself invited, or staff that convened there, were allowed upstairs. He had to rectify this immediately. Snooping was not tolerated under the maestro’s gaze. He kept his eyes on a sleeping chamber that was lit behind the sturdy mahogany door as he crept up the spiral staircase. On a normal day, he’d just float up and push open the door, however he still had enough respect to announce his presence before coming in. 

Standing in front of the door, his hand went to jiggle the handle, only to stop at the softest sounds of what he knew as sorrow. Eyes widened, his hand came off the knob as if he had been burned by it. There was a little one... softly sobbing in the chambers. He fought against an unusual impulse to shove himself inside, yet the longer he listened, the harder it became to ignore. He reminded himself to adhere to the rules and guidelines he had made for himself and Lance: do not interfere unless the justification is absolute. For some unspoken reason he felt the need to disregard his rule this only time. And with that impactful instinct hammering into him, he gave in. 

He knocked loud enough for the little soul to hear yet did not speak, waiting for someone to answer or reply. There was one solid minute without noise, the little one seeming to buck up after hearing the knock. When Balan knocked again, he earned a response, “Who is it? What do you want?”

Balan recognized the young man’s voice instantly. A shadow of sadness glazing his stare as he leant on the door a bit. What was making Leo so upset? Who could have caused such an unrest in the boy’s spirit?

“Leo... It’s Balan. May I come in?” He slid to his knees, in case the boy would open for him. After a moment, the heavy door slowly crept open, for Balan to view the young visitor’s face; that now appears wet from tears. 

Instead of asking too many questions, Balan just slid a bit closer to Leo, arms stretched enough to reach but not touch. A simple gesture to show he’d be there for him. 

Leo glanced at the gesture, measuring it to see what he’d want to do. His shoeless feet pawed the hardwood as he contemplated what he would do. He thought it would be best for the maestro to disregard the idea of comforting him. He’d remain a soldier fighting a battle on his own. Yet at the same time, he didn’t want that. And that juggle of care and carelessness caused more tears to well in his eyes before he opened his mouth. He barely caught a sniffle before he felt his feet leaving the floor. Blue eyes scanned his surroundings before he gauged that he was in Balan’s arms, embrace pulling him softly to his chest. Agony gripped the young boy as he sobbed into the maestro’s shoulder, tiny hands gripping him as if he’d disappear. 

Balan remained on his knees as the boy broke down, sun-yellow eyes closing as he allowed him the ability to let go. To let it hurt... if only for a while. The boy continued to sob as he motioned to stand, going into the chambers as his hands patted Leo’s back, slowing going into his hair to bring him closer. That hymn, the song Balan could not put to sheet, or find the right words to, came back. Only this time, the humming bled into words,

“When there is light, a shadow appears                                                                   the cause and effect, when life interferes                                                               the same rule applies to goodness and grief;                                                         for in our great sorrow, we learn what joy means,”

His little visitor opened his eyes in an attempt to look at Balan as he sang aloud. While he could see his smile, the wide brim of his hat obscured the rest of his face. He wanted to look at the maestro fully as he hummed the rest of the tune, rocking and hugging him as a mother would do for a babe. 

The maestro himself continued to hum the melody while pressing in as close as allowed. Softening his grip, he brought the little one to look at him. And became overwhelmed with the glowing vision of the boy staring back at him. Trusting him in this way. Words were not required to be exchanged while the maestro strode slowly to the large bed to lay him down. While Leo calmed down, Balan brought a chair over to sit near the bed’s end. 

“Leo, what troubles you little one? You can tell me. This place,” he moved his arms around the chambers, “is completely safe. Nothing leaves here. Your sacred words are for my ears only. Words that I will keep close to me. I promise.” He placed his immense hand on Leo’s shoulder as the boy relaxed into it. Taking a breath, he soothed over his raked nerves while he thought of the right thing to say. His chest appeared tighter than normal, fingers lacing together and fidgeting. In spite of his bravery to show his emotions to Balan, he still felt like a wounded, stubborn soldier; unable to admit that his wounds were draining him. His eyes strewn about the room instead of interacting with the tall, lanky figure.

Balan did nothing to prompt the boy to say anything quickly. No means to force him to confess to what was ailing him in this way without volition. So he waited. Patient and understanding. He’d talk when it is time. He watched him take a few short breaths then they locked eyes once more. The fragility was nearly enough to break the maestro’s heart. 

“I...I was just really upset about someone I used to know. We were real close. I loved them... they were like a sibling to me,” Leo sniffled as he pulled his hair back, “But then I said something wrong... and so did they. And then we never saw each other again. I didn’t... mean what I said, but I-I was just so-”

“Angry,” Balan stated, “You lashed out at them and now you’re feeling extreme guilt for it.”

“I guess I’m madder at myself because I left without giving them a reason, but what could I say?,” The young teen looked at the bed sheets as he rubbed his nose, “Have you ever been in my situation before?” Leo inquired after a second of thought. 

Balan blinked rapidly, the small smile he kept fading in surprise. It was an emboldened inquiry. Aureate eyes slid closed, reminiscing to the time he and Lance fell out. Harshly. Only, it was not Balan who attacked with scathing words. Nothing more could be said between as the maestro departed from the other with bolide of tears streaking the cosmos in his wake. Lance never created the courage to apologize for those words, no matter how many times Balan imagined that he would. It came as an acceptance of bad pride on both ends that kept the healing away from the two of them. Even if Balan was no longer in need of the healing. The words were said, there could be nothing in Wonderworld or in the actual world to change that. 

“Yes... but it was at a time I no longer remember.” Balan did not meet Leo’s eyes this time. His words were satisfying enough for Leo but he knew there was more to the story. 

“All I want to do is say sorry. But it’s too late.” The young boy put his head in his hands, a miserable whimper coming forth.

“Maybe... maybe not. Leo, I may not be able to give the proper answer about how you can ask for your friend’s forgiveness. However, I do know how you can forgive yourself. And that is to accept that friends can genuinely drift apart. Something in the relationship fissures and causes both of you to turn away from each other. You can accept the blame, Leo. That’s okay. But you shouldn’t be hurting yourself with that blame.” Balan’s gloved hand pressed to Leo’s cheek, making the teen look at him. The way that Balan smiled made Leo’s lip curl in sweet smile as well. 

“Thank you... so much. I really needed to hear that. I just felt like it was all my fault.” He pressed himself into the gloved hand, warmth radiating off the limb. 

“You’re most welcome, little one. And know that I’m here for you. With any insecurity, I’ll help you in the best way I can,” His head pressed to Leo’s, well not quite. The large hat obscuring leant on the boy’s forehead, which felt annoying for the point he was attempting to make. He half sighed and laughed before standing out of the chair. 

“One thing. Remember when I said that sacred secrets do not leave this space?”Balan’s tone hinted at something yet Leo couldn’t find what about it, so instead he stiffly nodded, “Okay good. Because I have a very sacred secret to show you. Only you.” He cooed as his hands went to his hat, the article of fabric coming off his face and head with a slow tug. With a shake, jade colored dreads fell free, his gloved hands fluffing them as he pushed a threaded dread away from his forehead. 

“There we go,” He stated mutely as he put the hat on a vanity in the corner, moving to sit back down in front of the awestruck child, “Yes I know. I’m so funny looking.” He grinned cheerily before setting his hands atop the bedsheets. 

“No you’re not...”, Leo scooted closer to Balan, the maestro still grinning happily as he did, “You look so beautiful.” The teen breathed whimsically, as if entranced by the sight of him. 

The grin was pulled off Balan’s face so quick, Leo felt as if he had offended him. Golden eyes flickering like candlelight in the lucent, yet dark room. For a fraction of a second, the world spun. He could see stars on the brim of his vision. After a great upheaval of air from his lungs, Balan came back. 

“Beautiful...? No one’s ever called me that before.” He chuckled sheepishly as he smoothed over his dreads. 

“But can I call you beautiful?” Leo became a bit shy, the poor boy looked as if he did something wrong. 

“If that helps, then yes. You are more than welcome to call me ‘beautiful’, little one.” The maestro bowed in the chair gracefully. He smiled genuinely while he pulled little Leo in for a hug, the teen leaning into him as he pressed into his shoulder. As they parted, Balan found his moment to press his forehead against Leo’s. Their contact was electric, stunning but completely welcomed as Balan breathed him in softly. Leo reciprocated the gesture, his small hands wrapping around the maestro’s neck affectionately. Oceanic, hope-filled orbs blended with the sunset gold ones in perfection. They stayed like such for a while, neither coming up with any words to justify this moment between them had. When they had to pull apart, Balan was the one who leant forward, as if not wanting the contact to come to an end.

He gets up, still holding the teen, to lay him down on the large bed. Leo relaxes in the maestro’s embrace as he buries his face into his neck. Balan didn’t stop the sweet, light-hearted laugh that bubbled forth as he encompasses the boy, swaddling him in the warmth of his body. They exchange a final look before Leo yawns softly. His eyes, previously stricken with tears of grief, now sparkle with ebullience and peace.

The remainder of the night was of Balan holding the little one as if he were the only thing in the world, his world, to think of at that moment. Surrounded by a jubilant contentment, he lain himself bare in front of this particular visitor for the first time in ages. So long as it was with Leo, he’d do it again. 

Over and over again.

[ii-newcomers]

29. Pushing the Frontier

"Girls, today I’m teaching you a new game.” I said in the car on our way home for one of Angie’s monthly visits.

“What is it Mr Lopes?”

“Is it a surprise, Dad?”

“No, Princess, I can start telling you about it now.”

Whenever we brought her home from school she would be in the back seat talking about the things she wanted us to do when we got home.

“Angie, stop touching yourself, someone could see you from outside.”

We soon figured I had to sit on the back too, to keep an eye on her, or she would start touching herself right then, and that would have been unsafe.

“I’ll say it’s just an itch. It is an itch.”

You never let her be demanding, but it was still fun to hear talking crazy horny.

“Do as she says Angie, don’t get into dangerous habits.”

She composed herself.

“Princess, at your young age you have mastered your gag-reflex.”

“Thanks Dad, I do my best.”

“Today I’ll show you something called a deepthroat,” you said.

“Sounds nice Dad, just the name makes me tingle.”

“It’s great Flo,” said Angie. She wasn’t into gagging and I hadn’t forced her anymore, but she kept on surprising us with her sexual savvy. “There’s nothing like a good-sized cock down your throat. No, there is. Lots. Anyway.”

Aware of her contradictions and not minding a bit, you smiled at her. In the few months since she came into our lives you two had become very close, her skill at enhancing the pleasure you could give me being her main virtue to your eyes. I could see in the rearview mirror how Angie eyed you at your mention of your tingling, then holding herself from going to you and searching for the site of the sensation you were referring to.

“I can’t wait to see your dad fucking your throat Flo,” to which you replied with innocent giggling.

When we got home you took care of your belongings with your usual care, before coming to me with a smile and an open attitude to be taught. Angie had been wandering from my room to yours, consumed in anticipation.

“Come, Princess. Lay down on your back on Daddy’s big bed. Let your head hang down from the edge.”

Angie had already stripped and was reaching for my pants for me to follow her lead. You looked at us with your face inverted, having adopted the position I instructed. I allowed her to follow her impulses and engage in a thorough and dedicated fellatio.

“Okay Flo, now open wide. This will be easy for you. All you have to do is swallow your dad’s cock and not gag.” She had taken the reins and we allowed her to do so, it was pleasurable to have your little friend play the role of an experienced woman. In a way it was more than a role.

I slowly pushed my phallus deep inside your open mouth.

“Fuck Flo, you look so hot with your throat getting swollen by your dad’s cock.” She gently ran her fingers over your throat as I shaped it from within. When I withdrew she gave you a luscious kiss, spilling more of your saliva on your face in what could have seemed a careless manner, but we knew to be skillfully choreographed for the effect of a ravaged face in you.

“Flo, your mouth is so good to get fucked by your dad’s cock.”

She then moved over to take my phallus in her mouth.

“My turn Mr Lopes. I mean, could you please fuck my throat sir?” She giggled at her pretense of submissiveness.

As usual, without waiting for permission to be granted, she climbed on the bed and adopted the position in question. You, always placing the wellbeing of others first, sat up and gently rubbed her vagina as she proceeded to show her prowess in the maneuver you had just been presented with.

“Lick my pussy Flo, while your dad fucks my throat.”

You took turns, practicing intake while the other caressed the one receiving, a few cycles before turning into our more usual fares, that time in a much more gentle manner with you, my little princess.

As the afternoon turned into evening, after a light dinner break, we were back in the main bedroom.

"Come Flo, get closer, have a look at your father's cock going in and out my asshole."

Closer you could better enjoy the view, staring with your mouth half open.

"Do you like it, Flo? Do you like seeing how his cock stretches out my asshole? Get closer."

Some days I would perform only a vaginal penetration, others I would follow with the anal sex she enjoyed so much. This was one of those days.

“Yeah.” To your transfixed stare, I withdrew and her anus showed the natural dilation induced by me.

"Flo, lick my asshole please. Lick it now that it's gaping."

I nodded to your silent request for permission and did as she requested, around the rim and tickling it with your tongue. She moaned loudly and flexed her sphincters, opening and closing.

"She's blinking Flo. I'm sure you'll get it in no time my baby girl."

"Of course Dad, I will." You nodded and smiled. There it was, you had an assignment.

Later on it was your turn to have your anus penetrated while she was watched close up.

"Let's see that blinking now Flo." she said when I withdrew

We had been having such a good time you had forgotten, then you flexed your muscles down there.

"There we go princess, that's a nasty anal freak for Daddy.”

“You know Flo, you can also blink with your dad's cock inside your asshole. Give it a try."

I got in again and you again flexed, this time as I slid my phallus back and forth.

“Good girl!” I said.

“Hey! Don't I get any credit?“

“I do appreciate your concern for my daughter's education Angie.”

“Thank you Mr Lopes! Do I get your cum today for that?”

“You do Angie, thanks to Flo having such a sweet and selfless character.”

***

Part of Angie’s charm was her unbound enthusiasm.

“Mr Lopes, what’s the most times you’ve cummed on the same day with Flo?”

It was late afternoon. We had already had the sexual entrée of that Tuesday’s visit. We had moved on to have Angie over for the two consecutive nights every month. We were going through a heat wave that summer, so a late dip was called for and we were resting by the swimming pool.

“That was the first time he fucked my asshole,” you speaking in my stead was another sweet way of tending to my comfort. “He cummed three times, and pretty much in a row.”

“You guys need to give me more details of all your wild fucking.”

“We keep nothing from you, Angie dear.” I said in a soft tone. She already knew the limits I had set, she only needed a reminder now and then. The rough treatment you enjoyed so much, for her had been only a welcoming rite, after which keeping her in line was an agreeable chore we shared.

“Angie, we shouldn’t talk like this here.” you spoke in a low voice, not a whisper, which by its very nature has an even greater pull on prying ears.

She clasped her hand on her mouth, then broke in laughter and her pretense of alarm.

“What are you talking about, you just … yourself.” she caught herself from falling into explicit language again, always in a lighthearted tone.

“Yeah. Still, what’s the rush, we can go on talking about it inside.”

“Okay.” She replied with partially veiled impatience.

Our stay outdoors was shortened by her curiosity. She had endeared herself to us and we didn’t mind her stretching the bounds.

“Can I masturbate on your bed Flo? I promise I won’t shout too loud, the neighbours will never guess what freaks we are.”

We were on our way to change our swimming suits in our respective rooms. We had gone each our own way, but she spoke well within earshot.

“Come here, Angie dear.” I called her from my room.

“I’m dressing, Mr Lopes.” Short pause. “Should I go anyway?”

You both took my silence in the affirmative and walked in, you behind her, stark naked, into my bedroom.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with it Angie, but I intend to spare a few of your orgasms from masturbation.”

“Alright.” her anticipation was transparent in her grin. “So...”, our attention prompted her, “how many times? Three?”

She crawled on the bed, laying on her back, her knees up and spread open, despite my offer she was caressing the inner face of her thighs.

“Yep,” you crawled to her side, “three. You know, my first time getting my dad’s cock in my asshole was special, I’m glad I got it then.”

“I bet you’re glad. I mean, I don’t mean to be demanding sir, but we’ve never had you cum more than once.”

“Maybe this will be our first time, Angie dear.”

“Dad, you don’t have to.”

“Of course not princess, but as long as it’s fun I wouldn’t discard it a priori.”

“Yeah, I can be a lot of fun.” she said, moving on to stimulate your nipples with her tongue. “Hey, while we’re at it, when are you planing to start fucking Flo’s pussy, Mr Lopes? Flo, you don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Angie, that is quite a momentous event to make it part of a light-hearted record-breaking.”

She hesitated and paused, probably discarding comments contradicting my statement.

“It’s okay Angie. Dad knows what’s best for me, and that’s all that matters. I love what we do, and I know I’ll love what he’ll be showing me later on. Like you say Dad, all in dew time.”

“That’s right princess. Now, let’s not digress and get back to the current order of business.”

We went on to what could seem a fairly long run, above two hours, but for us was what we had grown accustomed to expect.

“Am I gonna get to see the fireworks again today Mr Lopes?” she said, shortly after you two had done your playful sharing of my semen. We were sprawled on my bed, close together, caressing each other.

“Angie, quit pressing my dad.”

“Don’t worry Flo, I feel under no pressure.”

“So?”

“Let’s see after dinner, Angie dear.”

We donned our comfortable lounging loose clothing and went to the kitchen. Once there, she strove to take my attention away from setting up our dinner together, the way we usually do.

“Angie, he said after dinner.”

She was pressing her backside against my still flaccid penis, though her insistence was having some effect on its size.

“Okay. Sorry Mr Lopes.” Her sweet insincere apology. “But I can tell you’re ready for it, aren’t you?”

“What can I say Angie? You have a truly uncanny ability to read a man’s sexual disposition.”

“Thanks. Yeah, I’ve made the best of my little time, you know. I’m just a little girl.” She said giggling.

We went on with our planned order, to start with the dinner.

“Now?” She said, as soon as we finished dessert.

“Dishes.” I instructed. She caught up with my meaning. There were simple duties that couldn’t be pushed aside.

She took care of the chore by herself, proving once again the overwhelming power of motivation.

“Hey, don’t start without me! That’s not fair Flo, you get to fuck him every day.”

You had sat on my lap, giving shape to my erection.

“Not every day Angie, I wish. Only every other week.” you replied, stretching your arms above you, back to reach my head, your body giving way to soft twitching from the anticipated pleasure.

“Yeah, I know. Whatever. You still do it twice as much as I do, and you get to suck his cock every single night too.” She had finished and was coming over to us.

She stood by our side, as if she were uncertain for a second on her course of action. She never was, she could mould into any arrangement we could, when she hadn’t started one of her own making.

“We’ve never fucked in the kitchen guys. Have you?”

“I’m not much into sexual games involving food Angie.” I replied, providing information you had never needed me to make explicit.

“Who said anything about food? Let’s fuck in the kitchen. You know, cock, not cook.” She reached under you to make physical her meaning.

You jumped off my lap.

“Sounds fun. Would you like it, Dad?”

“It’s highly unlikely I won’t like anything coming from you princess.”

“Look, he’s already hard.” She carefully extracted my rapidly hardening penis, her description almost true.

We recreated her suggestion, and though it was undeniably pleasurable, we didn’t feel strongly inclined to repeat it on another occasion, I took you two to my bed for my culmination.

“We made it.” She sighed deeply.

“You have cummed lots Angie, what’s the big deal with Dad cumming more times?”

“Flo, guys can’t go on fucking after they cum. I thought you knew that.” She teased you. “So, it is a big deal, not all that many girls can pull it.”

“We just fucked for two straight hours, just in the afternoon, not counting the morning. You can’t keep it up much longer yourself, even you need a break after a while.” It wasn't arguing, not in the charged sense, you were only developing your line of argumentation. The loving tone made all the difference.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s fun. I don’t know, I just find it fun, get a guy hard over and over. Don’t you?”

“It’s not fun if Dad isn't having fun.”

“I can tell when a guy’s having fun, can’t you?”

“Angie, you will learn with time that sexual stimulus and response are not synonymous with the joy of sex.”

“Teach me Mr Lopes.”

She enjoyed sometimes pretending to have an intellect duller than what I could tell was the case, she never missed my meaning.

“Dad,” you had gently verified the absolutely drained state of my penis. “Don’t listen to her.”

“Mr Lopes, would like to give me a chance? Let’s break the record.”

“It’s okay princess, I won’t keep on insisting in an endeavour that’s only meant to be enjoyable. Go ahead Angie, I’m all yours.”

“I don’t need all of you, with all due respect, sir.” Giggling as she sat on my chest, falling on my penis and enveloping it in her mouth, easily fitting inside in its diminished state.

As soon as she started, while I was under the impression her efforts were going to be in vain, you came up with your remarkable resourcefulness.

You took the sex-toy we had grown fond of, and used it in her vagina and anus, stimulating her sensible areas with its vibration, then penetrating her; in the proper, hygienic order. As she demonstrated her appreciation for your initiative, you added your tongue into the mix.

Your presentation and her response was all that was missing.

“Flo, you’re a genius.” she said in a pause within the fellation she was now able to perform properly.

“I just know my dad really well.”

“Let’s not stay in the figure Angie.” I said as I got off from below her and went into action, to show her the deed had to be completed, and our enjoyment had to be the justification of her exercise.

After half-an-hour I knew cutting that last leg short was going to be necessary in order not to lose the initial momentum for my erection. It wasn’t a splendid climax, but it was pleasurable all the same.

“You’re welcome Mr Lopes.” she said, my semen dripping from her lips.

“Angie!” you gave her a playful slap on her shoulder.

“Granting your whim was highly enjoyable, let’s leave it at that.”

“Thank you Mr Lopes.” she said, mellowing into a warm embrace with you as she corrected herself, with an endearing shade of apology in her expression of gratitude..

We were so happy about everything.

[legobiwan]

So somehow I managed to binge all of Santa Clarita Diet in the past two weeks.

Blame the treadmill.

I was not expecting to enjoy this show at all. Santa Clarita? Yeck. Diet? Double-yeck. 

I mean, I actively avoided it for months and then I finally gave in after seeing it show up on about three different “underappreciated series” lists. 

The initial vomiting scene was a lot to take in, have to admit. I almost bailed right then between that and the prototypical suburban setup. Also, because I had no idea what was going on. 

And despite these reservations, I persevered. Which, I suppose, makes me (and I might guess audience), very much like Joel. (And now I finally know who Timothy Olyphant is and he is decidedly not Timothy Omundson which had been a point of confusion for a few months.)

The first season was, by far, the most charming, the mix of “how do we uphold the facade of our upper-class suburban life” also while “how do we cover up a murder we were woefully underequipped to execute” reaching a pitch-perfect balance. I really enjoyed the underlying message of “beneath even most perfect veneer, we are all imperfect and capable of being our best and worst selves.” Plus, the humor surrounding these “Central Casting get me a suburban couple asap” going around hacking people up was delightful.

And yet, there is some world-building in this show. The Knights of Serbia. The Bile. Mr. Ball Legs. Where were they going with all of this? Netflix really picked a bad moment to axe the series, I’m hoping they pick it up again.

Okay, okay, but zombies (yes, that’s discriminatory, I know) and murder aside - 

I’m usually not into the whole suburban marriage and one kid setting but not only did the twist work, this show actually portrays the difficult and quirky ins and outs of a long-term relationship pretty well. The long-standing arguments no one is going to win. Compromise. The ability to be in a unit and yet be two different people with different strengths and different interests.  Joel and Sheila’s communication is really a point worth pondering, even when they are keeping things from each other. They, surprisingly, have a pretty solid marriage, which only strengthens after Sheila turns.

And this is coming from someone who is pretty aro/not into romance.

I almost fell off the chair when Juliet O’Hara threatened to kick someone’s sexual organs up their throats. (Not to mention Eric was young!Shawn in Psych, as well.)

Okay, so Pilot!Joel and...Later!Joel

The man’s hair got character development, I mean, honestly.

Season 3, while fun, I think missed the charm of the other neighbors in reaching for a more ambitious plotline - although maybe that was going to be the point.

But the themes of this show - love, acceptance, embracing and being your true self and what even is the true self and has society caused us all to erect a fake personality to better “fit in.” What is the definition of bravery? And does the knowledge of our death define how we live our lives? Questions I would not expect of a zombie-dramedy,

Season 2 and season 3 saw some of the characterizations become a little less subtle - especially when it came to Joel. I was so glad to see him crossbow Poplović, that was a good moment and he needed it, I think his development had been a little stagnant for a while.

Other things I like about this show - the absolute way it just went with queer relationships. The biggest issue between Lisa and Anne wasn’t them being gay/bi/pan, it was religion.

Gary finding a purpose in his work after begging to be killed was...oddly touching?

I enjoyed that no one in this show is without fault. Joel equivocates, Sheila is impulsive, Abby is brash, Eric is timid, etc. etc. The characters are very well-developed.

 Apparently, the person who plays Abby Hammond is enby? No wonder they’re awesome on the show.

Is Santa Clarita Diet a deep show? Yes and no. I found the moments when Sheila was exploring what it meant to embrace her “true” self - whatever that means - to really click. Is the show entertaining and hilarious? Hell. yes. 

My two favorite moments:

and

[laufire]

Supernatural s1

my dash: decries Supernatural every five posts.

me: time to watch it seriously for the first time in my life.

-First thing first: it’s an amazingly well-crafted season of tv. I’m a character-focused watcher, not a plot-focused one; I never connected emotionally to the Winchesters (still haven’t and likely never will, as interesting I might find them as character constructs), so I feared I’d be bored and would want to skip scenes. Nuh huh. I was many things, but none of them were bored xDD. Each episode was a lesson in good pacing and the entire season another in proper build-up. There are one or two or a few dozen tv-writers I would like to show it to, ngl.

-Another thing it excelled at was in its portrayal in abusive family dynamics. The way Dean went mellow and so unlike himself when John gave an order (and what a SHOCK it is in the later episodes when he finally stands up to him!!). How Sam said HE would apologize to his father when they saw each other again, or how he made apologies for his father because “it could have been worse” (at least John didn’t beat them up, like it happened to that poor kid!). John showing Sam more “““respect””” (as far as he’s able at least) simply because Sam already proved he’s capable of leaving him; the way John controls the information he gives them and when and how and how much and how small they feel when they reunite with him. Dean knowing his father had been possessed by a demon because it wasn’t reprimanding him and belittling him. Dean’s psychic shapeshifter (?) expressing his resentment towards Sam for getting to escape. Dean’s quickness to resort to violence when Sam says something that makes him angry, or how he tries to severe ties between Sam and his college friends, or how he guilt trips him when Sam says he plans on returning to his studies, or how he minimizes Sam’s experiences with John or how Sam criticizes Dean’s compliance... (I don’t think Dean’s being consciously manipulative. I think it’s intuitive. Which is far, far scarier. He’s the Elena Gilbert of Supernatural and a walking red flag for controlling behavior). How it’s paired with ~honeymoon periods. The way they use the families around them to highlight their issues. It’s... chilling and terrifying and I can’t look away. I won’t get into the shit John pulls in 2x01 because that’s for the s2 POV, but oh my god I’m so happy he’s dead.

I wasn’t all that sure of how self-aware the creators were about this trend (especially because of how centralized and validated Dean’s POV is in his conflicts with Sam IMO. OTOH... characters like Dean and actors like Ackles are the type to take over a show by charisma alone tbf. The way he swoops in in the pilot and starts disrupting everything, including Sam’s relationship, reminding me of both Angel in BTVS and Chuck in Gossip Girl, Doylist-wise. This comparison is going to make sense to like three people I talk with regularly xDD). At least on early seasons, since certain spoilers about the later ones make me think it grew over time. I’m still unsure but I think they are a little self-aware because of this quote:

Eric Kripke said of Buffy: “I loved ‘Hush’ and ‘Once More, With Feeling,’ but overall, Buffy really taught me about effectively using metaphor in genre. For Buffy, it was ‘high school is hell (literally),’ and Joss Whedon did such a masterful job of grounding his horror and fantasy concepts in this notion, and ultimately telling allegories about high school, which turned what could’ve been B-Movie material into an all-time classic. I used that same philosophy on my run of Supernatural, with the mantra ‘family is hell (literally),’ and always grounded my horror episodes around the notion of families, to the show’s benefit. So thanks, Joss Whedon. I owe you a beer. (Credit: The WB)

everyone wants to be Buffy lol.

-My absolute favourite thing was how competent the Winchesters are (I’m even reluctantly including John here. That bastard). They’re sneaky with local authorities, crafty about fake IDs, credit scams, research abilities, DIY supernatural detectors xDD... I loved the lack of an audience proxy, the fact that the story throws you into the deep end with people that already know their shit. And that the other side is competent too, like when Meg & YED’s plan to trap John relied on the Winchester being competent; on Sam immediately going into the defensive because, what are the chances of finding that cute weird girl a second time, miles away?; on John suspecting it was a trap and only revealing himself after Meg appears to be dead... Another scene that I loved in that sense, from 2x01 (I watched until 2x03, I wanted to see Sterling K. Brown’s first appearance lol) was how upon discovering Reapers are shapeshifters, Dean immediately knew that cute ghost he’d befriended was the one after him. I get the feeling this aspect will get lost in future season and it’s a pity, tbh.

-Related to that, some of my favourite moments: Sam straight up bribing a guy to get into the morgue when Dean’s arguments are failing (with Dean’s money!); Dean’s plan of “well, if this guy is haunting the house and there’s no other way to kill him, we burn the house. No house no haunting”; Dean telling that kid to fake appendicitis to get his parents out of the house; John blessing the tank of water knowing he’s walking into a trap with demons... I dig this stuff.

-I get whiplash sometimes, with the show making a point of (very briefly) telling you racism, homophobia or pro-life attitudes are Bad(TM) and the brothers are Against them (the Racist Truck episode, the one where a woman used a Reaper to exchange “virtuous” lives for those of sinners...), when the rest of the show is err... what it is lol. Dean is toxic masculinity’s poster boy (I was so disgusted by how he acted with Jess omfg), in s2 we don’t get the monsters’ perspective on hunters until we’ve conveniently met our first black one (I love the episode AND the character but it’s fucking true)...

-I need to make a note of paying attention to the writers credits/Bts stuff because I find this show’s progression fascinating on a metatextual level. The only problem is that audience reaction seems to have played a big role (which is a problem on one or two different levels imo xD), and tracking that down is sliiiiightly more difficult lol. Oh well (I don’t even think I want to see too much of this fandom, even to satisfy my curiosity. Some of the glimpses I’ve caught of it are disturbing to the extreme).

-The detail about dead people’s blood being toxic to vampires is SO COOL OMG. I’m tempted to steal it xD

Some random stuff:

-The monsters of the week were some legit creepy stuff.

-I love that Meg has her own hellhounds. Is that still a thing when she returns?

-Dean: you and dad are reckless and I’m going to have to be the one that buries you. / Me, with the power of foresight: 👀

-Also Dean: sometimes it scares me how good I am at killing. / Me: it scares the shit out of me how good you are at killing, too, fam.

-I get the impression Sam loses his demonic-in-origin powers later on, right? What a waste, I love those.

-I’m pretty sure at one point it’s implied John used Dean to honeytrap monsters (when he sends him as a trap for the lady vampire that stole the Colt) and I really don’t know what to do with this information.

-Cassie was GORGEOUS and even make Dean likeable for me while they lasted xDD. But given this show’s track record I’m considering the lack of more appearances a blessing.

-So many guest stars. Everyone’s been on SPN. Especially if they were on the Buffyverse first (I totally get the impulse of casting Buffy actor after Buffy actor lmfao).

-Funny how Luther Hargreeves is exactly who a lot of fans think Dean was (Dean is far, far colder imo), and yet one is constantly called pathetic and evil and the other woobified. Very Funny Indeed *coughs* (funnier still that the character I often see Dean compared to is Wynonna Earp when the parallels are kids-pool deep at best and offensive at worst. Dean is not a Wynonna. Again, Dean is an Elena Gilbert xDD).

-The two paranormal investigators were dumb as rocks, but their motto was “What Would Buffy Do” so I like them (if they ever change that to What Would the Winchesters Do or something like that I’m going to be furious lmao).

-When I want to ~chill I dress about exactly like Dean (minus the flannel I’ve seen in later seasons, you can’t pay me to wear flannel). Like, I think I have a couple of shirts that look exactly like ones of his. I don’t know how I feel about this xDD

-IDK how I’ll feel about Bobby later on (I get the impression every long-term character on this show has their hateful phases xD), but in his introduction he said the last time he saw John he threatened to shoot him (“he causes that reaction in people”), so he’s so far the most relatable character around lol.

[dollydeez]

“Summin Strange in Them There Hills” Preview

Chapter One: Two Missing, Presumed Dead

This was supposed to be my time off, but “two missing, presumed dead” isn’t the kind of story I can turn down. I was in my apartment, surrounded by bottles, dirty dishes and cigarette butts, when an envelope slid beneath my front door. “Fuck,” I thought, assuming it to be a bill I had forgotten or the harbinger of trouble. It was the latter. A note from my boss, sparse on the explanation: and old friend of his was running an outpost on the frontier, two boys went out and never came back, leave [the contact’s] last name out of the press. If there are those of faint heart among us, my next series of columns will not be for you. Or maybe they will, I’m scribbling the first draft of this while waiting for the train with no intent of changing it. My job is to see the present and past with clear eyes; the future will always remain shrouded in fog. The only other instruction I was given was to hop on the next train available to Darmatilo. I know nothing about it, beside the fact that it lies in the region first settled by our kind when we moved westward. In my frenzy to get down to the station, I packed lightly and walked fast. It seems the line only runs in that direction twice a day, so I’ve had plenty of time to wander about. The ticket counter had a small display of pamphlets next to it, trying to tempt workers to waste their vacation in an arid wasteland, but I was able to scrounge up some information on my destination. Not directly, it was mostly an ad for the luxurious riverfront city of Ladustri, but there was a passing line about the ‘historic’ settlement of Darmatilo, separated by a small ridge from the mining town of Lagerdient. After eighty years it’s suddenly ‘historic’, the absolute gall. The train should be arriving any minute, and only now am I realizing that I could have gone back home to pack more substantively. I’m not used to last minute trips, nor stories with the possibility of more than a few days work. Maybe I’ll be lucky and head home before I run out of clean clothes, but it feels almost vulgar to suggest. My packing playing a role in the length of my stay is fine in the context of a feel-good story, but heading into something more dramatic… Comfort be damned, I’ll stay however long it takes to finish the piece.

Travel is not an unfamiliar aspect of the job, and it comes with a few perks. I don’t often head out of the city, Our City that is, but when I do I travel well. Private cabin with plenty of space, complimentary food service, and unlimited access to the sleeper cars. I spent most of my time glued to a book, but when the trolleys passed by and roused me from my trance I would glance up at the world dashing by. Trees to mountains to nothing desert. Swear to god my ears popped at least three times. Despite the emptiness stretching out before me, the desert is a relief. Something about the mountains, knowing I was so far above everything else, put me off. No matter how much I ate, nothing felt satisfying. I couldn’t concentrate on my book and even my nocturnal excursions provided little relief in the face of knowing how separated from everything I was. The air is too thin up there, no one wants to man an outpost up there. Despite all the complaints I could have about the desert, moving away from that truly dead region into one that seems that way was a relief. The ground was more even and I actually ended up finishing my book. Tragic, finishing a nonsense book in a single sitting, everything wrong with it jumped out much more ferociously. But I wasn’t reading for the plot, I wanted to see characters wriggle through strange situations. It posed this great question of, beyond all the strangeness in normal life, what if there was much more out there in the stars? Automatons indistinguishable from humans, Earth as our homeworld being a long forgotten relic, ‘star ships’ with the ability to jump great distances across the universe… I can’t tell whether the idea of humanity’s faults existing far beyond the bounds of our world is deeply cynical or a profane kind of optimism. If I’ve been keeping track of the stations correctly, I should be getting off soon. This section of my notes, or article if I decide to publish it as is, might be coming to a premature end but I need the last five minutes of any journey to get ready to transition back into work. I may travel for work, but it’s never felt like work. I can’t think of any other moment where I feel so comfortable and justified to fold into myself.

The whine of the whistle felt louder, knowing that I should start gathering my things. I’m a professional and know what I’m doing, so I hung back while everyone else stood up and huddled around the doors as they waited for them to open. Part of me can understand the impulse to get out as quickly as possible, but pragmatically the best option is to stay comfortable and seated until everyone is moving. Filtering out with the last of the passengers, I glanced along the platform for a figure who seemed to be waiting for someone. A man dressed in jeans and a dirty grey shirt was leaning against one of the pillars supporting the station awning, brim of his black hat pulled over his face and cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He looked over to me and gave a little nod upwards in acknowledgment. “Nic?” “And you must be Marcy, mighty nice to meet you,” he said, sticking his hand out. I nodded and kept moving, hoping the horses weren’t in the opposite direction. I would not describe Nic as loquacious, gregarious, or even a minor form of talkative. He was silent down the boardwalk, and was sparse with his words in identifying the black stallion as his and chestnut horse next to it, with a white streak going from its mouth past its chest, as the one I would be using. He focused on the case on the ride over, along with confirming that his first name was fine to use. Franz and James were the lads missing, the first disappearances in a long line of ‘kids’ finding refuge in the outpost, and… I’ll print it because it’s the truth, but I hate it: I was only there to make the remaining residents feel at ease. Not to say I won’t see this assignment to the conclusion, I am still an investigator, but I wasn’t meant to mention I’d only shown up to write for a paper. Something about wanting to keep the ‘kids’ from the brutal truths of our existence, make them think someone cares enough to look into it. Seems I am that someone who cares, although their understanding of my motivation may be a bit skewed. The ridge was surprisingly verdant, lined with trees on either side which were surrounded by pine needles and shrubbery. How they got into the desert I’ll never know, but squirrels rustled through the branches as we passed, spooked by our presence. Nic spent the gallop from the station shouting over his shoulder to get me up to speed, yet in the craggy path, full of sharp turns forcing us to keep our pace slow, he was silent. Why was that? “I wanted to give you a chance to appreciate the scenery.” And after all that time on the train, surrounded by dirt out to the horizon, I did. It reminded me of a certain part of the park about seven kilometers south of my flat. A straight path, but juxtaposed with everything around them[rephrase] both feel like somewhere you could get lost amongst the trees.

We spent at least half an hour winding through the wilderness until we entered a clearing, at the centre of which was a three story house. The wood was weather-beaten and dark from some impossible rain localized in this little area, and it had a covered porch out front next to the hitching post with chairs and a barrel hosting a crowded ashtray. The sound of hooves below us was muffled by grass as we approached the house. Candlelight flickered in the windows and I concentrated on taking in the moment; getting back into the experience of the first night off in a distant place, settling in so I can better take in what it feels like to be here. Following Nic inside, I got the faint whiff of roast beef. The dining room to our left was set up for dinner, but the room was empty. In the living room to the right a fire was blazing next to a man in a suit, who glanced up at us from his book with a look of anger. “You’re late,” he said, setting his book aside to get up. Despite shaking his head solemnly, his lips trembled, fighting to curl upwards, as he held in laughter. “Marcy’s train was late, and-” “Absolutely no excuse! The food’s gone cold, what am I meant to do? Heat it up in the oven like a commoner?” I said nothing while observing this ritual, as he sidled up to Nic and gave him a kiss on the cheek. They laughed and he turned to me. “Jasper,” he said, sticking his hand out for me shake. I introduced myself and, looking to Nic to confirm that I could speak freely, made sure we were on the same page as to why I was there. He wasn’t entirely comfortable talking about it, something about it making him not want to leave the house, and shifted the conversation to getting me settled in.[Ugh rewrite this] “We can save this for tomorrow, no? You’re probably starving, let me get dinner heated back up.” He gave Nic another peck, then disappeared into the kitchen. I went with Nic and took a seat at the table. It’d been mostly travel, but it was still a long day and I started to feel it as I sunk into my seat. Jasper was dashing between the kitchen, dining room and cellar as he brought out a bottle and poured us all a glass. In the middle of proposing a toast, he excused himself for a moment to check the oven. When he came back, he raised his glass and said, “To new friendships and new beginnings.”

Final Notes: I have a small candle resting on the desk in my room, where I’m scribbling this down before going to bed. It feels like a slow start, with little to no new information coming out (beside the ruse I’m meant to carry on with) and I’m fine with that for the moment. It’ll take some getting used to, being out in the middle of nowhere. The constant sounds of the city have been replaced by the buzz of cicadas and chirp of crickets. I’m in a small room, previously belonging to James, with a twin bed set up with an itchy green blanket. Beside the oak armoire and a painting of a dancer hanging on the wall, the room is bare. Despite how late it is and how tired I feel, the prospect of settling in to a new bed feels draining in its own wicked way. It’s an intersection of the trust needed to fall asleep in a strange place, the adjustment to a new environment, and the threat of restlessness. My job demands that I keep daylight hours, but I’ve always been fond of late nights. Not doing anything, but staying up and feeling like the world is my own. One item of concern I brought up over dinner was the absence of the ‘kids’ (it’s an oft enough used colloquialism in this situation that I’ll be removing the apostrophes from here on out) as the pretense for me coming out was putting their minds at ease. It seems their concern was focused on the idea of an unsolved crime rather than their safety. One of the more troubling manifestations of this was their insistence on abducting locals to interview, undermining the separation between residence and feeding grounds. I haven’t looked into how it’s done in the industrialized setting of the city, but from the price I’m guessing there is an assumption that we’d handle it on the individual end. That’s not an option out here, and to compensate they cross county lines for donors in most cases. Thankfully, most of the abductees were taken from their homes and could simply be bitten and returned with no recollection. But this was a corrective course, and at least one was picked up while in transit. If we are dealing with a hunter, which I doubt, they’ve been tossing rocks at the hornets nest. Even if not, one might have been stirred up in this chaos. We’ll just have to see moving forward.

So that’s the start of the [unedited] second draft of my next novel, Summin Strange in Them There Hills. If you read any of the first draft, there’s been a significant shift in the voice which I’m really happy with! My goal with the novels I have planned is to ground the narration in the world of the story, and this draft feels promising.

[everlock101]

Invisible

I recently received some compliments on this story so I decided to post here as well as fanfiction.net. This is just a fun little story I had in my head one day. Hope you like it.

I do not own any Flash characters.  

.........

Summary: Allie Allen has always felt invisible as Barry Allen’s sister. But two thieves may just alter her life in a big way. 

Being able to become invisible is perfectly fitting, I thought to myself as I watched Cisco, Caitlyn, and Wells fuss over Barry. He’d just fought against a metahuman that could control mechanical bees and Caitlin was worrying over him. 

Not me. Because I could create force fields and I hadn’t been stung so obviously I hadn’t been hurt. 

Except for my dislocated shoulder from where I’d been dropped from about fifteen feet up.   

It shouldn’t have surprised me that nothing had changed. Barry was the one who had seen our mother die. Barry was the one who was so smart. Barry was the one who had gotten the scholarships, who had always excelled, who had always been a go-getter. 

I just wasn’t like that. I’d been a straight C student, had gone to local community college and worked as a custodian for the university. I hadn’t been the one to have nightmares about our mother’s dead body.   

I trudged through the streets, cradling my injured arm, thinking that invisibility seemed moot since no one really noticed me anyway.  

Sure, I knew most people felt that way at some point in their lives and sure, I knew I would be missed if I ever did act on the dark thoughts that crept into my mind sometimes at night. 

But sometimes, the simple idea of nonexistence was really appealing to me.

Laughter broke me from my rather morbid thoughts. I glanced up to see Saints and Sinners and, seized with a reckless impulse, I walked inside. 

This definitely wasn't my scene. Everything was gritty and dark and a cloud of smoke seemed to hang over everything. I coughed and wound my way to the bar.

I wasn't dressed for bar-hopping either. I still wore the loose pants and wrinkled shirt I wore under my super suit. I ordered a drink and downed it, welcoming the numbing sensation in my arm. 

And then I heard their voices.

“Well well well, if it isn't Miss Allen,” I groaned quietly before I turned to see Snart and Rory plopping down on either side of me. Despite their criminal nature and the multiple attempts on my life and my brother’s, I actually felt surprisingly safe with Rory's bulk on one side and Snart's icy gaze on the other. 

“What do you want?” I asked tiredly as I downed my second shot. I waved for more. 

“To know what a pretty thing like you is doing in a place like this,” Snart continued, sipping his beer and gazing at me curiously.

“This ain't your scene, doll,” Rory added in a grumble. 

“How do you know?” I shot back. I finished three more shots in rapid succession and felt pleasantly buzzed. The alcohol made me feel warm and fuzzy and the pain in my arm was a distant memory. Fortunately, my powers hadn’t stripped away my ability to be drunk.

“Because you're a goody-two-shoes like your brother,” Rory grunted. I let out a derisive laugh. 

“Let's not bring up my brother,” I said darkly, polishing off another shot. 

“Touchy subject?” I didn't respond as I downed another drink. 

“What happened to your shoulder, kid?” Snart asked. I shrugged without thinking and let out a hiss as the pain flared back briefly. Suddenly, Rory’s hand landed on my dislocated shoulder. I winced. 

“Dislocated,” Rory grunted. Snart’s brow furrowed and he leaned in behind me to examine it. 

“I’m fine. I can take care of it,” I replied. 

“Take a deep breath,” Rory ordered. 

“Wha-” A second later, there was a crunch and pain flooded through my arm, shoulder, and chest. Snart’s hand clapped over my mouth and I screamed into it. 

I dropped my head on the bar as Rory let go of my arm. I breathed deeply for a few moments until the pain subsided to a dull throb.

“You’re a dick,” I groaned. 

“You’re welcome,” Rory shot back. Snart waved for some more shots and I eagerly downed another.   

…

An hour later, I hung off of Rory as Snart picked the lock on my door. I giggled.

“I'm so glad you know how to do that,” I slurred. “Finding my key sounds like a headache.” The door opened and Rory hauled me inside. I giggled again as my feet left the floor.

“Wheee!!” I laughed as Rory carried me through my small apartment to my bedroom. He sat me on my bed where I flopped back and blew hair from my face. 

Snart pulled off my shoes and Rory undid my braid, his hands surprisingly gentle for their size. Carefully, they maneuvered me out of my jacket and overshirt so I was left in my jeans and a tank top. 

I tried to think of the last time anyone had treated me so gently but couldn’t. Tears pricked my eyes as I thought of waking up to a cold, empty apartment and a cold empty life. 

My loneliness came swiftly, sweeping over me like a dark, heavy blanket. Tears dripped down my temples. 

“Kid?” Snart had asked me something. I just turned away from him. I didn't want them to see me cry. 

“Kid?” Snart’s voice softened and I felt a hand touch my hair. 

Rory came to my other side and touched my hand lightly. 

I blamed the alcohol.

All of it came out in a rush of choked tears. All the dreadful feelings of being perfectly completely invisible, even without my powers in the mix. I cried and cried until I felt empty but clean. 

“Please don't leave.” The words slipped from my tongue before I drifted off. 

…

I woke with a dull headache but I was warm and comfortable. I cracked open an eye. The room was dim which I was grateful for. Someone shifted in the bed beside me and I blushed, remembering what I had asked Mick Rory and Leonard Snart of all people. 

What was even stranger was that they had listened.

I looked over my shoulder to see the broad, bulky outline of Rory. He was still asleep, his warm breath fanning over my neck and shoulders. Snart was nowhere to be seen. 

I carefully got out of bed and left my room, stopping only to hit the bathroom quickly. 

Something smelled wonderful, coaxing me through the apartment. I stepped into the kitchen to see fresh croissants and double chocolate chunk muffins steaming on the counter.

Snart stood at the coffee maker, one of my Flash mugs held to his lips. He quirked an eyebrow at me over the cup and held out another steaming mug to me. I eagerly accepted the coffee and the aspirin he pushed my way. I took two pills, grabbed a chocolate muffin and leaned against the counter beside him.

It seemed terribly domestic; the two of us standing here in soft silence, drinking coffee and waiting for the morning to fully rise. It felt nice. Snart’s presence filled the little kitchen making the usual lonely room feel a bit brighter. I suddenly snorted. 

Snart, who seemed perfectly content to communicate nonverbally, quirked his eyebrow at me again. 

“I'm just imagining Barry or Joe's reaction if they walked in right now.” I laughed again but it was a bit bitter this time (they hadn't visited my apartment since I'd moved in) and Leonard snorted as well. 

Rory stumbled in, eyes still closed. He banged his hip against the counter but still managed to fumble his way to the third mug of coffee. He gave us a grunt of greeting before bumping his lips against Snart's in a short good morning kiss. I stared in amazement as Rory, a convicted arsonist/murderer/thief curled up on Snart's shoulder and Snart, convicted master thief and murderer let him, and drank his coffee.

“This is so weird.” 

…

When I returned home from work, I wasn’t expecting to step into the smell of chicken and rice. I sniffed curiously as I hung up my jacket and purse. 

I paused and just took in the scene that greeted me from my kitchen. Rory was crouched in front of my oven in flannel pajama bottoms and no shirt. Snart sat on my counter next to a rice cooker that definitely hadn’t come from my kitchen and sipped a Coke. 

“Aw, welcome home,” he greeted. Mick glanced over his burned shoulder at me. 

“Um, hi?” I dropped my keys into the little mason jar on the counter. 

“Mick’s making baked chicken with rice and we’ve got some mixed veggies in the microwave,” he explained. “Hope you like it.” 

“Sounds...great…” I blinked a few times as if expecting the scene to suddenly vanish. Snart just raised an eyebrow. 

“What? You asked us to stay.” I stared at him and felt my lips turn upward. 

The food was delicious. My powers, like Barry’s, required a lot of upkeep. I burned a lot more calories than before the accident even when I didn’t use my powers. 

I polished off my plate and eyed the last bit of rice and veggies. 

“You can have the rest,” Rory told me. I eagerly scooped them onto my plate and devoured them. I was still hungry and tried to think about what else might be in my fridge. 

“Are you still hungry?” Snart asked. I flushed. 

“I have to eat a lot to keep up my powers. Barry has to eat more though.” My jaw clicked shut. I was letting myself get too comfortable with criminals who had it out for my brother.

“How much a day?” Rory asked, sounding curious. I shrugged. 

“Well, I usually don’t eat enough so I can’t be sure.” Rory sat back tapping his fingers on the table, looking thoughtful. 

“Looks like you just gave Mick a challenge,” Snart chuckled. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Mick loves cooking. He’ll enjoy figuring out how much you need to eat.” I glanced between them hesitantly. 

“So...you two are...I mean...you’re gonna stick around.” I pushed the carrot around my plate. 

“What better way to learn about our enemy?’ My head jerked up but Rory and Snart both had amused glints in their eyes. I threw my napkin at them. 

....

We quickly settled into an routine. Rory and Snart slept over most nights, letting me know whenever they couldn’t make it over. It was easy to feel comfortable with them and I often worried that I was going to hell. 

But Rory’s cooking was probably worth it. He prepared huge meals, figuring out how much I needed to eat on a regular basis and what I liked to eat. They made me laugh and I felt more comfortable with them then I’d felt with Barry in years. 

...

The fight had been bad. A new meta-human had nearly killed Barry and me. 

“Barry?! Barry?! Are you alright!” Caitlin’s voice was the loudest but everyone was asking about Barry. I shut my comms off and walked away, not even having to turn invisible to avoid being noticed. 

I slumped into my apartment and sagged against the door. Everything just hurt: my three broken fingers, my fractured cheekbone, my dislocated knee, and every scrape, bump, and bruise.

“Doll?” I jerked upright then hissed in pain as my broken ribs twinged. Mick stood in the doorway to the kitchen holding a mixing bowl. He stared at me for a moment. 

“Len,” he called. Instantly, Len appeared from the living room. Worry filled his face as his eyes landed on me. He started forward and gently wrapped an arm around my waist. 

“Come on, sweetheart.” I almost wanted to cry as we started toward the living room. When Len saw how bad my limp was he simply scooped me up into a bridal hold. 

Len carried me into my bathroom and settled me on the closed toilet. Mick appeared a moment later with a first aid kit. 

“Ok, we’re going to get you out of this suit, sweetheart.” I nodded and let them maneuver me out of my ripped and blood stained clothes. My fractured wrist gave a particularly nasty twinge. 

“Who did this to you?” Mick demanded roughly. I looked up at him and realized that my left eye was beginning to swell shut. 

“Meta,” I mumbled. “Jeremy Briggs. He had super strength.” Mick nodded and exchanged an unreadable look with Len. 

I sat there in my undergarments as they worked in tandem to get my cleaned and patched up. Thankfully, they gave me some pain pills that worked quickly. 

“Alright, come here sweetheart.” Len scooped me back up after he had finished. Mick led us back into my bedroom and pulled some sleep clothes from my dresser. Carefully, gently, they got me into them and settled me into bed. They smoothed the blankets up over my chin. 

“Get some rest, doll,” Mick rumbled. I fumbled for their hands. 

“Please…” I swallowed the rest of my plea down nervously. They both just smiled. 

“I gotta clean up the kitchen,” Mick told me. 

“And then we’ll be back, alright sweetheart?” I nodded and Mick gave my uninjured hand a gentle squeeze. 

I dozed for a while, listening to them working in the kitchen. Finally, they returned wearing their own pajamas. I stirred as I felt them slipping into bed on either side of me. Their arms crossed over my waist. Len nuzzled his nose into my neck and I felt Mick press a warm kiss to my forehead. I sighed in contentment and easily slipped into sleep.

…

The next morning, I woke abruptly. I sat up, instantly looking for danger. My injuries all protested and I gasped, bending over. 

My bedroom door opened and Mick rushed to my side, helping me ease back into the pillows. My bed was empty. That’s what had woken me up. 

“Easy, doll. Easy.” 

“Where’d-where’d you go?” I gasped through my aching ribs. Mick brushed his fingers through my hair until I finally relaxed. 

“Len went out. I was just working on some food for ya.” My stomach clenched painfully. I hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. Mick chuckled lightly. 

“I’ll be right back.” He kissed my forehead and slipped from my room. 

I adjusted myself up against the pillows. He returned a few moments later with a tray full of food and several cups of water and orange juice. 

He set the food on my nightstand before sitting beside me. 

“Open up,” he said with a teasing glint in his eyes. I smiled weakly as he bgean feeding me. Mick had planned well; preparing only soft foods like eggs and oatmeal and fresh toast. 

Eating helped me feel a lot better and I started getting out of bed. 

“Hey, what’re ya doin’?” Mick tried to push me back down but I batted his hands away and got to my feet. 

“I’m ok. I need to go to the bathroom.” Mick huffed as I started toward the toilet. 

When I returned from the bathroom, Len was talking with Mick. My brow furrowed as they quickly stopped when I walked into the room. 

“What evil plan are you two concocting?” I asked, with a small laugh. 

“What are you doing out of bed?” Len drawled. 

“I had to pee,” I huffed. Len pointed and I sighed, sliding back under the covers. Len sat beside me while Mick cleaned up my empty plates and took them to the kitchen. 

“How are you feeling?” Len asked quietly. I shrugged. My powers helped me heal faster than normal, but not quite as fast as Barry. 

“Not terrible. Really sore but I’m healing up, especially after eating.” Len nodded.

“Good.” Len reached out to touch my chin, his icy eyes carefully examining the healing bruises on my face. “Gave us a good scare there.” I chewed on my lip as his hand fell back to the bed. 

“Why?” I asked quietly. 

“In case you missed the past few months, we’ve invested a lot into keeping you alive.” He gave me a smirk and a wink. “We’d hate to see that go to waste.” I snorted.

…

Two days later, I heard Jeremy’s name on the news. Curious, I turned up the volume on my TV. 

“Jeremy Briggs, a recently captured meta-human, was found dead in his cell last night.” I turned it off and looked toward the kitchen where Mick and Len peeked out. I arched an eyebrow at them. They just looked back innocently and I rolled my eyes. 

...        

I wasn’t sure when I fell in love with them. But I knew when I realized it. 

It was just another day, seven months into this new routine. I woke and shuffled my way into the kitchen. It was Saturday and I’d slept in past even Mick and yet there was coffee and breakfast still waiting for me. I eagerly gulped the hot drink and started munching a doughnut before following the noise of the TV to the living room. 

Mick was lounging on my couch, his bare feet propped up on my coffee table, snoring lightly. Len lay across him, focused on the news playing on the TV. 

Suddenly, the doughnut stuck in my throat. They looked perfect here in my apartment. The idea of crawling under Len’s legs and curling up against Mick’s side with my coffee sounded so normal and amazing. 

My heart dropped to the floor and so did my coffee mug. The shattering sound startled Mick and Len and they both shot up, eyes roving wildly over the scene, always ready for danger. I inhaled sharply as my eyes began to burn. I pressed my now empty hands to my mouth (my doughnut had fallen as well) and clamped my jaw shut to seal in any sob that might escape me. 

Because it would be just my luck to fall for two people already in a committed relationship. With each other. 

“Kid?” Len asked. 

I bolted before he could say anything else. I yanked my purse and keys off their hook and ran outside, my bare feet skidding on the damp metal stairs. 

“Allie!” Len and Mick had apparently given chase. I nearly tripped as I hit the pavement and I felt something cut my foot. 

“Allie, stop!” They’d gotten closer. They were faster. I’d never make it to my car. 

I threw myself off anything that would make my footprints stand out and felt energy rush over me as I became invisible. I quickly stepped out of reach as Len and Mick came to a halt, their heads whipping from side to side. 

“Allie!?” They both began to call. I stuffed my wrist to my mouth to muffle my cries and hurried away. 

…

I ended up at the police station. I avoided Joe or Barry and managed to get into Singh’s office without being noticed. He was on the phone but his eyebrows furrowed when he saw me. I was sure I looked a mess with my red cheeks, bleeding feet, swollen eyes, and pajamas which included one of Mick’s shirts and some sleep shorts. 

“What happened to you kid?” Singh asked after hanging up. I trembled as I sank into a chair. He grabbed the first aid kit from his desk then came to patch up my feet. 

“It’s-it’s complicated,” I rasped. I shuddered with another sob and buried my face in my hands. Singh, thankfully, didn't ask any more questions, just finished patching me up, then patted my shoulder, and let me cry. 

…

Avoiding my own apartment was a nightmare. I’d never given them a key but Mick and Len didn’t need one, even if I changed the locks. So I pretended that my apartment’s laundry was broken and stayed at Joe’s. 

No one seemed to notice my misery. Something was up with the Reverse-Flash and no one had time for my pathetic little problems. I’d never spent much time doing the hero stuff so no one really noticed my absence. 

Apparently Len and Mick did though. There was evidence of them looking for me all over. They blew up my phone with calls and texts and when I’d asked Joe to take me to my apartment, I’d glimpsed them watching from down the block. 

But I couldn’t face them. I couldn’t bear it. It would be better this way. Eventually, they’d forget about me and I’d go back to being invisible to everyone. 

…

Two weeks passed in utter misery. Joe and Iris were gone all the time now to help Bear. I missed my brother. It hadn't been so bad when we were kids. He had helped me with my homework, gone on imaginary adventures with me. We'd had fun.

I missed him sometimes. 

….

The night was quiet except for the creaking of the house. I stared up at my ceiling too lethargic to do anything else. 

And then I heard something. A click that was out of place. I sat up and strained my ears. Nothing. I was about to go back to staring into the void when I heard a stair creak under the weight of a foot.

Instantly, I turned invisible and crept from my room. I knew the places to avoid so I was completely silent as I went to the top of the stairs.

A man in a ski mask was creeping up. I could see his gun glinting in the moonlight.

I tiptoed back to my room and dialed Joe's number.

"Joe, there's someone-" 

"I'm sorry, Allie. I'll call you back." The phone went dead and my heart seized. 

Ok. Ok. It's fine. You're invisible and you can create force fields. You're fine. 

I went back to my door and peeked out. The man was stuffing a silver figurine into his shoulder bag. I slipped out behind him, focusing on keeping myself invisible. 

Too focused.

My foot hit a loose board. The man whirled and I startled out of my invisibility. Before I could throw up any kind of defense, he raised the gun and fired. 

Being shot wasn't like the movies. The gun was much louder, making my ears ring. I didn't fly backward. Instead, it felt like the bullet just tore through me. There was a brief moment where everything seemed to slow and I just stared at the robber in shock. 

I toppled backward and everything sped up again. Footsteps pounded back down the stairs. I heard a commotion, what sounded like a fight, but the shock was settling in, cold and hard. 

A voice swam over me. I looked up into familiar eyes. 

"M-Mick?" 

"Stay still." Pain suddenly exploded through me as he pressed down on my wound. I screamed. Bright spots flashed over my vision. 

“Leonard!” Mick sounded...afraid. But that couldn’t be. Mick wasn’t afraid of anything. I heard footsteps, heavy breathing, voices, and then I just…

Faded.

…

I woke to a rather annoying beeping sound. I fumbled for my alarm, desperate for a few more minutes of sleep. 

Blazing pain shot down my arm. I sucked in a sharp breath. My eyes flew open as a warm hand caught mine. 

"Easy, easy doll," Mick rumbled. I blinked at him, slowly relaxing into the pillows, the pain fading away to a dull ache. Len appeared by his side, worry gleaming in his eyes. 

"Hey kid, you're gonna be ok," he told me. 

Tears filled my eyes. I was so tired of hurting, of being in danger, of fear. 

“Hey, hey,” Mick rumbled. His thumb swept over my cheeks. I continued to cry. I was wrung out, miserable from my revelation about loving the two men, and in pain again. My heart was too heavy. 

“We’ve got ya,” Mick grunted. “We’ve got ya.”

…

I was able to return home after a few days. None of my family members or friends, had returned my calls. None of them knew I was in the hospital. When Mick and Len finally drove me home, I felt numb and miserable. 

“Kid-” Len started but I just walked past them and into my bedroom. I shut the door and locked it. I knew they could pick the lock but I hoped they would give me my space. I buried myself under my blankets and cried some more. 

…

I finally shuffled out a few hours later, expecting Mick and Len to have cleared out. I wasn't expecting to see them asleep on my couch. I stared at them and couldn’t help but smile as Mick snored loudly. My smile dropped and I shuffled into the kitchen. There were Tupperware containers sitting on the counter with food. I plucked one open and began eating dully. 

“Kid?” I sighed and put my fork down. I turned around to see Leonard. “You should be resting.”

“I’m fine,” I groused. Len’s brow furrowed and Mick walked up to me. I tensed as he reached for me. He let his hand drop. 

“What’s wrong, dollface? Other than the injured wing?” I sighed and pressed my palms to the cool countertop. 

“I love you.” The words slipped from my mouth quietly. “Both of you and I’m tired. I’m tired of hurting and I’m tired of being afraid and I’m tired of hiding how I feel from you both. I’m in love with you both and I know that you two are together and that we can’t be-” 

Mick kissed me. I sucked in a sharp breath as his large, warm hand came to cup my neck. My eyes fluttered shut. Leonard’s cool fingers brushed hair from my neck and then his lips brushed over my pulse. I trembled as they pulled away. I blinked rapidly and looked at them. Both of them smirked at me. 

“What were you saying?” Len asked. I could only stare at them. Mick leaned in and began kissing my throat, giving Len a chance to kiss me properly. 

“Wait,” I mumbled, pushing away from them only barely. “Does this mean…” Len rolled his eyes and Mick grunted. 

“Yeah, dollface.” Sparkles of warmth flooded my blood. I let out a watery yet happy giggle before kissing them again. 

[quicksilversquared]

The Felix Fiasco:Chapter 2/2

AU of the episode Felix

Instead of cutting off what his father was going to say, Adrien inadvertently let Mr. Agreste out himself as Hawkmoth. With some help from a friend- and some surprise visiting family members- and a bit of luck, Paris might just find itself one supervillain down by the end of the day.

links in the reblog

Felix had had his story all ready when he stepped in the house. He had been taken off guard by the news, of course, and had run on impulse. Ever since the first akuma had showed up all he had heard was about how much of a villain Hawkmoth was, so of course his first reaction wasn't to be all-in. But he had had time to sit alone and think about it, and- well, he wanted his mom back, of course, just like his father did. And magic could do that, so- well, he wanted to know more, and to see his mom, if possible. After all, it had been ages, and he missed her.

And Adrien's father and Nathalie ate it up. There was no suspicion at all.

Seriously, how were these people supervillains? Sure, Felix was confident in his acting abilities- that was why he had agreed to this whole thing in the first place, because he was positive that he would be able to weasel his way through the situation- but he had figured that there would be more persuasion involved, them drilling him to make sure that he wasn't about to run off again and immediately report them to someone once he knew more. There had been some questions, sure- they had wanted to know if he had told anyone, to which they got a very quick "no!"- but nothing like what he had expected. Apparently the desire to see his mom again made "Adrien" turning to the dark side completely believable.

And then his mom and Adrien- or, sorry, "Felix"- arrived, and they had to interact normally, but as each other.

(At least Adrien had thought to have them practice that part in Marinette's room after they switched clothes. If they hadn't...well, Felix had far less confidence in Adrien's acting abilities, even if Adrien was the one between the two of them to do voice acting and shoot commercials.)

"This is nice and all, but Adrien and I were in the middle of something before you arrived," Mr. Agreste said after a few minutes of- well, admittedly awkward conversation. Felix's mom had apparently decided to continue on with the main reason for their visit- getting back the rings- and that was making Mr. Agreste less than thrilled. It probably was keeping him from getting suspicious, though, considering that Amèlie could have a one-track mind when she wanted to and her not bringing the topic up would be strange. It was a trait that ran in the family, really, so Felix refused to consider it a bad thing. "If you could, ah, wait-"

"They could hang out in my room!" Felix blurted, mimicking what he could remember of his cousin's eagerness as best he could. He gestured widely up the stairs. "There's a foosball table, and, uh..." He wracked his brain. What else had Adrien told him was in his room? Hopefully things hadn't changed too much since his last visit. "A climbing wall, and- well, you'll see."

"Thank you, Adrien!" Amèlie told Felix, beaming. She placed a hand on Adrien's shoulder, clearly ready to guide him up to the room, and then cast a disparaging look at Mr. Agreste. "Hopefully we'll get to hang out with you soon enough. Don't keep my nephew from me for too long, Gabriel."

Mr. Agreste only gave a short jerk of his head that might be interpreted as a nod, landing a heavy hand on Felix's shoulder and steering him forcefully towards what- if Felix was remembering correctly- was his office. Nathalie shut the door behind them, flipping the lock.

For the first time, Felix was nervous. This wasn't going to end in, like, human sacrifice or something, was it? It was all fine before, when they were around other people, but now Felix was on his own. If something went sideways...

No. His uncle wouldn't hurt the boy who he believed was his own son, right? Right-

-no. In a flash, Felix remembered what Adrien had said that had gotten his mom so enraged. Adrien had been attacked by akumas before- targeted by akumas, even, and Mr. Agreste had akumatized himself and attacked Adrien. Maybe it was just because stuff would likely be put back at the end of the attacks and so a little danger was considered acceptable, but that didn't exactly make Felix any less nervous.

"Your mother is down below the house," Mr. Agreste told Felix, guiding him to a specific section of floor in front of a painting of his aunt. It was weird. "We'll have to take the elevator. It's really only designed for one person, but we can make it work for two."

"An elevator? Where?" Felix asked at once, glancing around. He wasn't seeing any doors around in the too-open, too-clinical room. "In here?"

"In the floor, obviously." Mr. Agreste leaned forward, pressing several spots on the painting- buttons! Before Felix had a chance to memorize the pattern, they were going down, down, down. They passed another track that headed to the side and then- if Felix's eyes weren't deceiving him in the dark- upwards, and just kept going down.

Felix had decided: he Did Not Like This.

"It was quite difficult to get all of this installed without anyone noticing," Mr. Agreste commented idly as the elevator went down. "I had to call in a foreign company, make some payments to keep them quiet- not that they ever saw your mother or her condition. I had to keep her in one of the back rooms for a bit- it was quite dicey, making sure that neither you nor the household staff went back there. But the cavern already existed, and some of the scaffolding, so it wasn't quite as expensive as I had worried."

Felix had to struggle not to comment at that. How much of the money he had spent had actually belonged to Mr. Agreste, and how much had come from the Graham de Vanily family fortune? Surely he wasn't making that much money off of the fashion business, considering that everything Gabriel sold was either regular clothes with a brand stamped on them and sold at a huge markup, or absolutely hideous "fashion" that Mr. Agreste dreamed up, at least as far as Felix knew. The quality of the designs had definitely taken a turn for the worse after his aunt vanished, which suggested that either she had been doing a fair bit of designing herself or had simply been in charge of the editing.

"It was quite hard to keep you from noticing, of course, but I had hoped to pull off this whole thing without you knowing at all." Mr. Agreste paused as the elevator slowed and they descended into a huge cavern. Felix was not particularly comfortable knowing that this existed under his cousin's family's mansion- like, who had decided to build a house over this? It should have just been a park, and that way when the ground inevitably decided to collapse, there at least wouldn't be a building over it. "But it has dragged on for long enough now that I- well, Nathalie, at least- thought it might be a good idea to let you in on the secret, and you can be our eyes and ears on the outside."

"What do you mean, Father?" Felix asked, cringing on the inside. Having to call someone else- and someone as awful as Gabriel Agreste- father, so soon after his own dad had died...well, he would rather pass. But if he wanted to act convincing, he needed to address Mr. Agreste just like Adrien would. At least Adrien normally called Mr. Agreste father instead of dad, because Felix really wouldn't have been able to stomach that. Perhaps the two words were technically very similar, but it was just different. "How could I possibly be any more helpful than any news coverage? The Ladyblog has quite a bit of content."

"It has dropped in both quality and quantity recently. Both because your friend Alya has decided to trust Ms. Rossi and her stories, and because she's become so distracted by that DJ boyfriend of hers that she's not following the attacks as often." Mr. Agreste sniffed, leading the way off of the elevator even before it fully came to a stop "Typical teenaged romance single-mindedness. Foolish, and something that they will no doubt regret later on. They have become blind to everything except for each other."

Felix glanced away as though he was uncomfortable with how his- well, Adrien's- friends were being discussed, but inside he was trying not to roll his eyes. Adrien's friends were obsessed with each other? That was rich coming from the guy who had turned into a supervillain in an attempt to save his wife and had rather deliberately put his son in danger multiple times for the same reason.

(Also, this cavern was insane. There were rusting metal walkways over moving water below, and an opening somewhere up above that was shining light down at the cluster of plants at the far end, and- well, it was weird.)

"But you, Nathalie, and I can discuss specifics later," Mr. Agreste told him. "I know Nathalie had some ideas. It will require working in tandem with Ms. Rossi- she's one of my allies, though I don't know how much she suspects."

Felix blinked. "How- how much she suspects? What have you told her?"

"Very little. She is acting on my requests as Mr. Agreste- requests to deliberately get people upset enough to akumatize. Oh, don't look like that, you know that it causes no lasting harm," Mr. Agreste snapped when surprise and disgust slipped onto Felix's face. "And she is slippery enough to smooth things over again afterwards. But she's also been very cooperative with Hawkmoth, agreeing to become akumatized even without emotions clouding her judgment." He sent Felix a considering look. "You could do the same, actually. I'm sure it's something that Nathalie has thought of. With cooperative akumas, I can plan a design and powers in advance, instead of having to come up with them on the fly."

...Felix did not like this Ms. Rossi character already. He also wasn't sure who she was- she wasn't one of the people that Adrien had mentioned- and he didn't want to say anything that would give that away.

"But enough about that. You wanted to see your mother." Mr. Agreste headed up the walkway, shoes clicking with every step. "This way, stop dithering about. We don't have any time to waste- your aunt will start nosing around if we take too long, no doubt, and I shudder to think of what her reaction might be if she gets wind of this." Even from behind, his scowl was evident. "She's too nosy for her own good. The sooner she and your cousin leave, the better."

Felix had to force back the absolute rage at that. How dare his uncle call his mom nosy. Granted, maybe she sometimes was- he got irritated with her prying at times, he was a teenager and wanted his secrets, darn it- but for Mr. Agreste to say that, as though what he was doing wasn't a hundred times worse?

It was absolutely hypocritical.

"And here we are," Mr. Agreste announced, stopping in front of a tube... thing. He pressed a button, and the sides retracted to leave a glass case, with Emilie Agreste laying inside on a padded surface, deathly still.

It brought back memories in a rush, memories that Felix would have rather stayed deep inside. Memories of his father laying in a coffin- narrower than this one, to be sure, and wood instead of metal and glass- but with that same cream-colored silk padding and arranged in that same position, down to the flower bouquet held in his hands. Those waxy, too-pale cheeks, everything a little too neat and perfectly done up to truly look alive.

He wanted to be sick. Why couldn't Mr. Agreste have his wife on a bed, or at least in something far less coffin-like?

"She is alive," Mr. Agreste was saying, stepping closer to the foot of the- he was going to call it a chamber, Felix decided- and resting a hand there. "And the machines- they're to keep her stable. She was using the Peacock Miraculous even though it was broken. She was trying to be helpful, and this is where she ended up." He gazed up at his wife, clear longing on his face before he shook it off, his expression shuttering as he turned back to Felix. "Once I get the Ladybug and Chat Noir Miraculous- well, I want to use the ultimate power to change history, so that she wouldn't end up here."

"Won't there be a price, though?" Felix asked. He and Adrien had talked about it while they were swapping outfits and hairstyles and buffing out the few differences in their facial features with makeup, and Adrien had assumed that any wish made with the two main Miraculous had to result in kickback somewhere. Frankly, Felix had to agree with his cousin's assumption. That made a lot of sense. "A consequence for changing things?"

Mr. Agreste shrugged. "Perhaps. But I'm not going to concern myself about that right now. My kwami, Nooroo, had been most unhelpful about giving me information about that!" His voice rose with every word and Felix cringed back automatically.

He wasn't ever going to be jealous of his cousin ever again. Maybe they had both lost a parent- and maybe there was a possibility that Adrien's mom wasn't completely lost- but at least Felix's remaining parent cared about him. She wouldn't raise her voice, and she wouldn't look at him like Mr. Agreste had looked at "Adrien", all closed off and uncaring.

If Felix hadn't already felt bad for his initial plan to screw up his cousin's reputation as payback for Adrien not coming to Felix's father's funeral before, he definitely would now. It couldn't have been more obvious that his cousin already had enough to deal with.

"Master, I'm not allowed to say more!" a high-pitched voice protested, and Felix startled as a small purple creature appeared over Mr. Agreste's shoulder. "And it's unpredictable, and-"

"That's enough." Mr. Agreste swatted away the small fairy, focusing back on Felix. "I will interrogate Ladybug and Chat Noir's kwamis once I get my hands on them, and I will find out the best way to go forward. You don't need to worry about that."

Felix would beg to disagree, but he thought that it was probably not the best time to knock heads with Mr. Agreste. So he decided to turn to a different topic.

"What was Mom trying to do with the Peacock?" Felix asked, glancing back up at his aunt. "Who was she trying to help?"

Mr. Agreste frowned deeply, letting out a loud sigh. "She was trying to come up with a magic solution to cure your uncle's illness, to help him and possibly you and your cousin as well." He glanced up at Emilie again. "She fell into a coma before the test results came back telling us that neither of the two of you had inherited the genes for his disease."

Felix blinked. He knew that he had gotten tested to see if he had the genetic disposition to get the same illness that had killed his dad, but why- why would Adrien? They were related on his mom's side, not his dad's. "Inherited his disease? How- how would h- I inherit Uncle's..."

Mr. Agreste spared him a short look. "There were fertility issues, I thought we told you this before, Adrien. I mean, perhaps we didn't mention that your uncle helped out, but I thought that would be obvious enough."

Wait. He and Adrien were genetically brothers?

Well, that would explain how they looked similar enough to pass for each other with a clothes change, a hairstyle switch, and a little bit of hasty contouring with some makeup to cover up the few differences. Felix had known that technically, if one just considered genetics, that the two of them would be half-brothers since their moms were identical twins, but this...

Well. Felix had wondered how he and Adrien had ended up looking so alike when their fathers looked absolutely nothing like each other.

"Ah," Felix managed instead, deciding not to make any comments about how really, it was probably for the better that Mr. Agreste hadn't been able to have kids. Unlike Felix's own father, Mr. Agreste was- well. Not exactly model material, to say the least. "That- yes, okay."

He would have to ask Adrien how much he knew about the whole fertility issues thing, because he had never been told. That- that seemed like the kind of thing that would be really important to mention, like, years ago.

Also, did Mr. Agreste ever share information with his son in a way that didn't involve dumping it in one abrupt, overwhelming go? That seemed like it might be somewhat damaging.

"I'll admit, we should have done an exam for potential health problems first and made sure that everything came back healthy, but your aunt and uncle offered and Emilie seemed quite fond of the idea, so we were a bit lax on our screening." Mr. Agreste's face pinched, clearly irritated. "Not that it would have been easily available at the time, anyway. Add in the fact that we were rather fond of the idea of knowing the donor, instead of having it be some faceless, homely nobody who might have a dozen kids already across the country, and- well, never mind that. Your screening came back clear, after all, and with Ladybug and Chat Noir's Miraculous, we will fix the damage from the broken Peacock and get your mother back."

"I- right."

"But I think that's enough information for now. We don't want your aunt to come snooping because we're taking too long." With another press of a button, metal shutters closed over the glass chamber and Gabriel Agreste turned, leading the way back up the walkway. Felix glanced back once before hurrying after him, trying his best not to fall behind. "With your help, now, we'll be able to get the Miraculous in no time and have your mom back with us. Like I said, it will very likely involve you working with Ms. Rossi, and I expect you to be on your best behavior with her. If we can get Ms. Dupain-Cheng akumatized...she has avoided my butterflies on more than one occasion now. I suspect that she would make quite the powerful akuma. Her creativity could make her more than a match for Ladybug."

Felix only just hid his disgust at that, instead turning a distressed look on Mr. Agreste. "But- but Marinette is my friend!"

"Akumatization causes no long-term harm, Adrien, we have already been over this. And I thought it would be obvious enough already considering how many times some of your other friends have been akumatized. It's not as though her akumatization would be any different." Mr. Agreste sent him an exasperated look. "If it would distress you that much to upset Ms. Dupain-Cheng, then Ms. Rossi can take care of that bit. You would just need to stay out of the way and not rush after her to try to offer comfort."

Felix knew full well that Adrien would never agree to that, not after Marinette had pulled him in and offered comfort during his breakdown. Still, he had to agree- or at least pretend to. "I- I'll try."

Mr. Agreste's lips flattened. "No, Adrien, you will. There is no try. I am not asking for an impossibility here."

Felix swallowed a sigh. He wasn't surprised, really. "Yes... father."

"Good. And I plan to change the timeline, to keep your mother from ever falling into a coma in the first place, so Ms. Dupain-Cheng won't even remember her akumatization." They stepped onto the platform, and Mr. Agreste tapped the button that would take them back up. Felix tried his best not to scowl as they ascended into the dark tunnel again, trapped with no space to step back and away from the madman that was his uncle. "So you see, I am not the villain after all. Paris will not remember this, if all goes to plan, and we will have your mom again."

For a moment, Felix was almost tempted to forget the whole stop Hawkmoth thing. If Mr. Agreste changed the timeline- would he change it so that the Peacock wouldn't be broken, and Mrs. Agreste might actually be able to find a cure before his dad died? After all, it sounded like she had been trying to find a cure for all of them, not just in case Adrien had the same condition. But...

Well, all signs pointed to it not being a particularly good idea for him to trust Mr. Agreste's stories. He was clearly a madman, and it was incredibly likely that there would be consequences for such serious magical tampering. Maybe their immediate family wouldn't see those impacts- or maybe they would, and Felix would lose his mom instead- but either way, Felix knew deep inside that his dad wouldn't approve.

They went up and up, and Felix turned his attention to his secondary plan- stealing the Miraculous. Adrien had guessed that it was hidden under that hideous ascot- not that he had actually seen the pin, he was just assuming based on where he had seen Hawkmoth wear his Miraculous- and getting it unnoticed would be difficult unless he could figure out a plan. Maybe he could pretend to lose his balance and fall against Mr. Agreste, but how to make that look realistic...

Despite his earlier show of confidence, stealing the Miraculous was always going to be a long shot. Rings were easy, and bracelets. But pins, and particularly hidden ones?

Felix shifted, shuffling his feet as though uncomfortable- and that wasn't hard to act at all- and was about to 'trip' over his own feet when the elevator gave a sudden jolt. Felix's carefully-planned 'fall' turned into a real one, right against Mr. Agreste's chest.

And as luck had it, right against the bottom edge of Mr. Agreste's ascot. As the elevator gave another jolt- good god, please don't let it actually break now- Felix let his hand slide under the ascot (a clip-on, how utterly tasteless and embarrassing for a fashion designer) and felt the bottom of a pin at once- hopefully the Miraculous, and not just a normal pin. As Mr. Agreste's attention was on cursing out the elevator system and trying to keep them upright and not getting their clothes caught in the few bits of exposed machinery, the pin practically shifted itself into his hand and Felix unpinned the Miraculous, letting it slip out of his hand and up his sleeve, trying not to flinch as the pin suddenly changed shape.

Somehow, miraculously, it was mission complete. And his uncle seemed none the wiser.

With one more jolt, the elevator started moving normally again, just as though the near-breakdown hadn't happened. Felix frowned against the darkness, then narrowed his eyes when he caught a glimpse of something small and dark up above, something that vanished into the shadows before he had a chance to get a better look. There was another flicker of movement on the other side of the tunnel, but it too vanished before Felix could figure out what it was.

"Do- do we have rats?" Felix asked, still frowning into the darkness as they continued upwards. "I thought I just saw something."

"Perhaps. The cavern is not exactly completely insulated from the world, so while I shudder to consider it, it's not impossible. Did you see something?"

Felix shrugged, taking a step back- well, as much of a step as he could, without risking stepping too far back and into the walls they were moving past- and letting his hands fall by his sides again. The Miraculous slid back down his sleeve and into his hand, and Felix pocketed it at once. "I thought I saw something small moving along the side of the tunnel, but it's too dark to see."

Mr. Agreste just let out a noncommittal hmm.

After another few seconds, the floor above split and they ascended into the office. Nathalie glanced up as the elevator platform clicked into place on the floor, giving them a brief smile and nod before returning to her work. Felix stepped away from Mr. Agreste at once, giving himself a bit of breathing room.

"I don't think that I have to remind you not to tell anyone," Mr. Agreste instructed him sternly. "Don't make me regret trusting you. I know that you want your mother back as badly as I do, and this is what we need to do. The opinions of the city do not matter."

"Of course, Father," Felix lied at once, very aware of the weight of the Butterfly Miraculous against his leg. "Should I go check on Felix and Aunt Amèlie now?"

Mr. Agreste nodded, leading the way over to the door and unlocking it. "That would probably be for the best. If my memory serves me correctly, your cousin has rather sticky fingers. You wouldn't want too many things to go missing."

Felix very nearly felt offended, but then promptly remembered that his original plan for their visit to the Agrestes had included snitching his cousin's phone and just now, he had stolen his uncle's magic jewelry and was planning on trying to steal his ring for his mom if possible.

Maybe he did have somewhat sticky fingers, but only when he had a goal. It wasn't as though he was a common pickpocket.

"Of course, Father," Felix said again, stepping out of the room. "Will we see you at dinner?"

"No, I've wasted quite enough of the day already, so I'll be taking my meals in the office as usual," Mr. Agreste told him. He scowled. "No matter what opinions your aunt has on the matter."

Felix tried not to smirk. His mom would absolutely be vocal about that, and it would be hilarious to see the face-off. Mr. Agreste well deserved her ire, after all. "Right. I'll see you later, then."

He didn't get a response, and he hadn't expected one. After lingering another half-second, Felix trotted up to Adrien's room, hoping that his memory would serve him right and his cousin hadn't changed rooms or anything since he had last visited. Thankfully, the door handle he remembered gave, and Felix stepped into the room that he remembered, excessive even by rich people standards. His mom and Adrien were there, hovering anxiously by the door. They both let out a sigh of relief when they saw Felix, letting him into the room at once and locking the door behind him.

"How did it go?" Amèlie wanted to know at once, ushering him further into the room and handing over a makeup wipe and a comb so that Felix could start putting his appearance back to right. "Did you see Emilie? Did your uncle suspect anything?"

"Well as it could have, I suppose." Felix shrugged. He hadn't been ill despite the- well, despite the reminders of death and coffins that he really hadn't needed- and Mr. Agreste hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary. "I saw Aunt Emilie, yes, and I don't think he suspected anything, and, well..." Felix let a small smile slide onto his face, reaching into his pocket and pulling his hand back out, opening it where both his mom and Adrien could see. "I managed to grab this when the elevator malfunctioned on the way back up."

The twin gasps this time made Felix grin. Amèlie reached out as though to take it, then drew her hand back. "That- you're sure that's the Miraculous?"

"It sprouted wings after I grabbed it, so I assume so, yes." It had been so hard not to react when he felt the brush of wings sprouting out of the Miraculous, but Felix had managed it. He tapped it, a little curious, but- no. He couldn't want it. He wasn't going to be like his uncle. Felix refused. Besides, the Butterfly itself really couldn't do much beyond make tacky villains in an attempt to take Ladybug and Chat Noir's Miraculous, and considering that his uncle had been trying and failing to do that for ages, the likelihood of Felix actually succeeding in a much shorter timeframe- after all, a non-zero number of people knew about his plan to get the Miraculous- was pretty much nil. "And, well. I managed to get this set up before coming into the house, and it's a good thing, too."

Felix pulled his phone out of his pocket, finally hitting the end button. The screen blinked up at him, announcing that he had been recording for just over forty minutes and his phone's storage was nearly full. It had been a last-minute idea, really, but he was glad that he had thought of it now. His uncle had said quite a few interesting things, and it would be important evidence soon enough.

Adrien grinned as soon as he recognized what Felix was holding. "That's great! More proof for Ladybug and Chat Noir."

"I'll make some copies of the file this evening," Felix told them. He turned his attention to Adrien. "Do you know of a Lila Rossi? Apparently she was freely working with Hawkmoth."

Adrien's jaw dropped, and then a slow grin spread onto his face. "No way! That's great- I mean, it's- well, she's a terrible person," he hastened to explain. "She likes lying to get her way, and it's frustrating to listen to, but if we fight her, then she might get akumatized and cause a lot of problems. I know Marinette has been butting heads with her a lot, and Ladybug loathes Lila, so for Lila to be ousted as willingly working with Hawkmoth..."

Felix smiled at that. "Yes, I gathered that she might not be the kindest character. Mr. Agreste was talking about having her deliberately upset people to get them akumatized, and apparently your friend Marinette was next on his hit list."

"He- what? No, he had better stay away from her, how dare they go after Marinette-"

"Oh, is she your girlfriend?" Amèlie asked in delight. "I did wonder, since you two seemed quite close, but I didn't want to pry, it didn't seem the time."

Adrien promptly turned pink, which seemed like a pretty clear answer to Felix, but he was also shaking his head. "No, I- we're friends! And she does so much for all of us, to help everyone out and keep people happy so that people don't get akumatized, and so for them to target her..."

...yeah, Felix's cousin was pretty obviously sweet on this girl. Before Felix could call Adrien out on that, though, there was a knock on the window and Ladybug waved at them from the other side. Felix stepped that way, ready to hand over the Butterfly Miraculous at once, but Adrien stepped in front of him.

"I want to make sure that it's actually Ladybug," Adrien murmured, just loud enough for Felix and his mom to hear but not Ladybug, who was still standing outside of the window. "The Peacock is still out, and we've seen some odd sentimonsters recently. You put yourself in danger to get this, and I don't want to lose the Miraculous right back to Nathalie again."

Felix nodded, letting Adrien take the lead. He wasn't sure how Adrien was planning on ensuring that this Ladybug was the real one, because Felix was pretty sure that his cousin wouldn't know anything more about Ladybug than any other person in Paris did. He could admit, though, that the timing seemed pretty strange, since how would Ladybug know to come now?

"Hi, Ladybug," Adrien said, pushing open the window and stepping aside to let Ladybug in before Mr. Agreste or Nathalie could spot her on the security cameras. "Um, how are you?"

"I'm- well, I've had an interesting day," Ladybug said, rubbing the back of her head. "Marinette waved me down when I was out for a run- I had heard horns and yelling, so I thought that there was maybe an akuma out and so I was searching- and told me about your father and that, well..."

Adrien nodded. "That he's Hawkmoth."

"And that you were maybe going to try to get the Miraculous, if possible." Ladybug glanced between them. "So I was mostly curious about what more you had learned, and if you maybe...?"

Adrien nodded, then paused. "Ah, one quick question, just to be safe- when Jackady was attacking the house, what did I do when I got to my room?"

Ladybug blinked, clearly puzzled by the question, but only for a moment before her expression cleared in understanding and her cheeks turned pink. "You, uh, went to go take a shower."

"And what did we talk about after I came out?" Adrien asked, just as pink as Ladybug was. She smiled at him, bright and happy.

"I saw the picture of your mom on your computer screens...and I said that you had your mom's smile."

"Okay," Adrien said, nodding and flashing her a wide grin. "Thanks, I just- I just had to make sure."

Ladybug nodded, smiling back. "That's fine. I understand wanting to be careful, and I appreciate that. It's really smart."

There was a pause.

"I got the Miraculous," Felix announced when it seemed as though neither Ladybug nor his cousin were about to speak. He produced it from his pocket. "I understand the Peacock is still at large, but I didn't want to push my luck with trying to find it."

"It's not worth it, not when we know who has it," Ladybug agreed. She took the Butterfly Miraculous, popping open her yo-yo as she did. After another good look at the pin, she tucked it into the yo-yo and snapped it shut. "That's incredible that you were able to get it. I would have thought that Mr. Agreste would have been too protective of the Miraculous to let anyone get close to his neck."

"I got a lucky opening and I have practice swiping things unnoticed," Felix told her, ignoring the fact that anyone would be able to figure out that there wouldn't be many positive applications of that particular skill. That was entirely beside the point. "I also got an audio recording of my entire experience with Mr. Agreste and our visit downstairs. I'll be making a copy of it tonight- mom, what hotel are we staying in?"

His mom frowned, thinking. "I don't recall- it's not the Grand Paris, I know that much, because the last time we visited and stayed there, it was a bit too expensive even for my tastes and I wasn't particularly impressed by the place. It reads as more of a bragging rights project than an actual high-end hotel, so I decided to go elsewhere." She frowned in thought for a moment more and then smoothed out her expression automatically- after all, she couldn't get frown lines, that wouldn't be nice- before digging out her phone and navigating to her email, showing Ladybug the confirmation email before tucking the phone back in her pocket.

"Here, I can give you a USB drive now," Ladybug said, popping one out of her yo-yo. Felix tried not to stare, because seriously, how many functions did that thing have? But maybe he shouldn't be surprised, because it was magic, of course it could do whatever Ladybug wanted. "And then I can pop by later?"

"Well after dinner," Amèlie told her. "We're staying here for our evening meal, and then leaving an hour or two later, as though we were taking the last train of the evening out of the city."

Ladybug nodded in understanding. "Okay, I think I know when that is. I'll give you some time to get settled in before I stop by. And I thank you for turning the Miraculous over. I know not everyone would. The idea of powers like that- well, it's too much for some people to resist."

...well, okay, now he was going to feel guilty if he didn't say anything. Also, everything that he had heard before about the Miraculous and the wish that the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous granted was just guess and conjecture, and he- he wanted to know. Surely as the holder of one of those Miraculous, Ladybug would know more.

"I..." Felix trailed off, glancing to the side. "I will admit, I considered it for maybe a couple minutes. The opportunity to have my father back...and with the price, well, what if we traded my dad for Adrien's father? It's not like having the world be down one supervillain would have been awful, especially because my dad was actually nice. He cared about others, not just himself, and he wouldn't have even considered doing what Mr. Agreste did." He glanced back at Ladybug. "But that's not how the wish would work, would it? That seems too neat and tidy, to be able to pick and choose the person to trade."

"It's definitely more unpredictable," Ladybug agreed. "Even Chat Noir and I's mentor- he's been studying the Miraculous for years, and he made a really dumb mistake that caused a lot of destruction. You would think that he would use the Cure and fix that, but even he doesn't want to mess around with the Wish. There's just no way to control what the price would be."

Felix nodded. "Okay. Thank you." There had been no opportunities missed, after all. That would keep him from staying awake at night, wondering and wishing and cursing himself for not at least trying.

With one last bright smile, Ladybug thanked them again and took off out the window, vanishing quickly. They all watched her go before falling into a somewhat uneasy silence as Adrien and Felix finished swapping back their appearances. Once they were finished, Felix's mom spoke up again.

"We'll have to be careful going forward," she told them. "Adrien, your father is bound to notice that his Miraculous is missing at some point today. I doubt that he would try to make a fuss with Felix and I here, but once we leave- well, I don't think that you should stay here tonight."

"I can lock my door and sneak out," Adrien offered. "I've done it before, and even if Nathalie and Father have the key to the door, I know how to block the doors so that they can't be opened. And, uh." He ducked his head, a small smile on his lips. "Marinette just texted me and said that I can stay over at her house, since they have a guest room."

"Oh, good. Perfect." Amèlie beamed at them. "So I think that unpleasant business has been as sorted out as much as possible, then, and we can move on to more pleasant topics and actually enjoy the rest of our visit here. So. Uh. Ideas?"

"Uh, maybe just one," Felix starting, figuring that- well, he was curious, and this was probably as good of a time for it as any. After all, the visit was already a bit awkward with his uncle's impending arrest for domestic terrorism via magic supervillains, so surely it couldn't get much worse. "Earlier, in the cellar, Uncle said something about him and Aunt Emilie having fertility problems and Dad helping out. Uh, can I just ask- what?"

  Gabriel Agreste let out a long breath once the Graham de Vanilys had finally, finally left, barely sparing Adrien a glance before heading back into his office and calling up a generous glass of scotch to sooth his nerves. His in-laws were as absolutely infuriating and interfering as he had remembered, barely deterred by the loss of Amèlie's husband, it seemed. Add in the fact that Amèlie still couldn't get her thick head around the concept that, family heirlooms or no, the twin rings belonged to him now, and the fact that Adrien's dash after learning about Gabriel's secret identity had caused no small amount of stress, and the fact that Amèlie hadn't accepted no for an answer and had forced Gabriel out of his office for dinner, just to make her stop pestering him and shut up- well, it really was no wonder that Gabriel had been nursing a small but persistent headache for most of the day.

But now they were gone- at least for now, he didn't doubt that they would be back in another couple of months to pester him some more, that family was nothing if not annoyingly persistent- and he could take some Advil with his scotch before settling in to plan out how he and Adrien could work together to take down the superheroes. With any luck, they could steal another Miraculous from one of the lesser, temporary superheroes and Adrien could use that to tip the scales. Gabriel wouldn't allow it for many battles- Adrien would only go out if conditions were solidly in their favor, because if he got his identity exposed that would be a disaster- but it could be the extra thing they needed, a strong akuma plus a sentimonster plus him and Mayura and Adrien.

"I could design the perfect akuma to make Ladybug and Chat Noir pull out one of the temporary heroes," Gabriel mused to himself once his drink was gone and his headache had receded, already rising to head for his elevator. He could plot better up in his lair, and he would also be ready if any negative emotions showed up in the city. There had been a surprising lack of them so far today, and he didn't understand why. "Which could very well mean re-akumatizing one of the people who got that reaction again. That could be difficult, unless I can direct Lila, perhaps." That wouldn't be hard, he was sure, considering that the girl seemed to jump on every opportunity to attack Ladybug. "But I might need to plan this one out some more. Nooroo, remind me what akumas brought out the B-team."

There was silence. Gabriel frowned, his fingers mid-reach towards the elevator buttons that would whisk him up to his lair. "Nooroo?"

Nothing. Dread started to pool in Gabriel's gut, and he scrambled to pull off his ascot, tossing it to the side to get a clear view of his neck.

His neck, which was- for the first time since he had put the brooch on- bare.

"No, no no no!" Gabriel snarled, sure that there had been a mistake. He dropped to his knees, snatching up his ascot and rifling through it in case the brooch had simply gotten snarled in the knot of fabric. His search yielded nothing. "Come on, come on, I couldn't have lost it!" The only new person who knew about him being Hawkmoth- who would have any idea about the hidden brooch- was Adrien, but he wouldn't dare steal his father's Miraculous. He wasn't anywhere near slick enough, after all- it was Felix that was the silver-tongued thief- and besides, he had clearly been very interested in his mother's return.

So where had it gone?

"Okay, breathe," Gabriel muttered to himself, determined not to let himself panic, even as he undid the pin-on ascot so that he could flatten it out. Panic led to dumb decisions, which could mean an end for him. "Adrien couldn't have taken it without tipping me off, he has no control over his emotions. He would have been nervous, and I would have been put on high alert. Maybe I just didn't fasten it right this morning and then it got knocked off."

Yes, that had to be it. Gabriel remembered that he had had to scold Nooroo in front of Adrien when they were in the underground cavern, so he had had the Miraculous then, at least. Which meant that it might have gotten knocked off down there. Where the walkway was not solid and there was rushing water down below.

That would not be good. Visions of the Miraculous getting whisked away by the rushing water danced through his head, and Gabriel's blood pressure spiked again before he remembered that Nathalie still had the Peacock Miraculous. They had to be careful with their usage of it, sure, but surely they could manage a transformation and a sentimonster that could sniff out the Butterfly Miraculous and return it. They might have to wait a week to make sure that Nathalie had fully recovered from her last transformation- or maybe it would be smarter for him to use the Peacock. The thought made Gabriel clench his hands, because the mere idea of subjecting himself to the peacock's weakness was-

Something was wrong. It hadn't been immediately obvious, but when he clenched his fists….

Gabriel's gut twisted as he looked down and then once again, he froze. This time, it had nothing to do with his missing Miraculous. Instead, Gabriel was staring at his bare hand. Specifically, his bare ring finger.

His ring. It was gone. Gone. Just like his Miraculous, vanished into thin air.

No!It-it couldn't be! He had been so careful to not let it out of his sight, and he certainly had never taken it off for more than a minute at a time to clean it. It wasn't as though he would take it off for any other reason- the smooth surface of the ring was hardly going to snag on any fabric, and he was hardly going to deign to do any sort of baking- which meant that it had been removed. Somehow. Without him noticing.

Two incredibly important pieces of jewelry gone without a trace in the span of a day. Gabriel scrambled for his phone, suddenly paranoid that maybe the Peacock had vanished from Nathalie's possession, too. If it had- well, then all was lost, wasn't it?

No. No, it had to be a coincidence. There hadn't been a single opportunity for Adrien to steal his Miraculous, but there certainly had been an opportunity for Felix to palm the ring when they shook hands. He should have been on the lookout for that, should have been on high alert the entire time that his sister-in-law and nephew were within his sight, should have put the ring in a safe until they were gone.

And by now, they were on a train back to London. Gabriel couldn't go after them, and even if he could, Amèlie wouldn't admit to her son taking the ring. They would hide it and play dumb and never let him see that they had it. No, it was well and truly lost to him now, and maddeningly so.

But that didn't mean that the Butterfly was. If he summoned Nathalie back to the house at once- she would be annoyed, certainly, since she had only just left, but as soon as she found out what was going on she would understand the urgency- then they could start the work of figuring out where the Butterfly had gone.

He wasn't going to let Emilie down.

(a/n: If ML is going to make Adrien and Felix inexplicably identical, I'm going to give them a completely bonkers justification for it. In this case, the chances of them looking so similar are a LOT higher if they share a father on top of having identical mothers.

This was meant to be the second and final part of the story, and it very well might be- I do like my open endings, after all- but it is possible that I might return to this story at some point and write a part 3 that ties up a few of the lose ends. It depends entirely on my inspiration and amount of other projects I have on the go, though, so no promises.)

[taww]

First Take Review: Gryphon Essence Preamplifier & Stereo Amplifier

Okay, let’s get this out of the way: with a combined retail of over USD $40k (and that doesn’t include another $6k for the optional Zena DAC module), The Gryphon’s Essence preamplifier and stereo amplifier are by far the most expensive electronics I’ve ever had in my home! They might be the Danish firm’s entry point into separates, but that’s akin to calling a $146k Aston Martin Vantage “entry level.” There was a time in the not-so-distant past when spending such sums of money on stereo gear struck me as pointless excess. Perhaps I’ve been numbed by flipping through too many issues of The Absolute Sound or walking the halls of an audio show; perhaps I’m just entering a life stage (mid-life crisis, anyone?) where I’m allowing myself to indulge in such luxuries. Whatever the case may be, I’ve now had the good fortune of several months with the Essence combo, and despite a number of people prodding me for this review it’s been quite difficult to put into words how they perform. Why? Because every time I sit down to do the “work” of reviewing I just end up getting sucked into the music and forget to do the reviewing bit! But, here goes...

The arrival of the Gryphon components was a case of one thing leading to another. My first experience was when I strolled into Gryphon’s room at RMAF 2018. After being disappointed by so many other mega-buck systems at the show, I was delighted that this one actually sounded like music! Frankly, a lot of über-expensive show systems landed on my ears like amusical hi-fi effects or whimsical fancies of what some people think music should sound like, rather than an actual musical performance. Like other big systems, the Gryphon rig was imposing and fancy-looking, but with a decidedly purposeful, even stark, aesthetic. And the sound - so tangible and luscious, maybe a little dark and brooding, but in a way that connected me emotionally to the recorded performance rather than distracting me with sonic affect. 

At the time I was happily running the Valvet A4 Mk.II monoblocks, and also had @mgd-taww​’s Pass Labs XA30.5 at my disposal. Both delivered the pure and colorful musical flavors of Class A amplification, and both are superb amps. But things got thrown for a bit of a loop when I settled on the Audiovector SR 6 Avantgarde Arreté speakers as my new reference. I had auditioned them at AudioVision SF with the Gryphon Diablo 300 integrated amp ($16k) and the sound gave up nothing to high-quality separates - big, bold and dynamic with tremendous poise and nuance. Coming back to the Pass and Valvet amplifiers (coupled with a Pass Labs XP10 line stage) certainly wasn’t a let-down, but they didn’t have quite the same level synergy with the Audiovectors which sounded more complete and visceral with the Gryphon integrated. 

This combined with the strong aural memories from the RMAF room led to a call to Gryphon’s US distributor, Philip O’Hanlon and Pandora Pang of On a Higher Note. Philip acknowledged that the Diablo was indeed excellent but teased that Gryphon had recently introduced a new line of separates worth consideration. The Essence had just arrived in the States and he had one more set in stock if I were so inclined... and next thing I know, a pallet loaded with what my wife lovingly referred to as “an illegal arms shipment” landed at our doorstep.

Serious crates for serious gear

Like all separates in The Gryphon’s 35-year heritage dating back to the original DM100 amplifier, the Essence line features pure Class A operation with minimal negative feedback, but brings it at a lower price point ($22,990) with more conservative aesthetics and practical packaging. Prior to the Essence, to get a Gryphon amp one had to shell out anywhere from $39k for the Antileon EVO to $57k for the flagship Mephisto (double those if going for monoblocks). The tradeoff is a lower power rating - just 50wpc, albeit in pure class A and doubling into 4 ohms and again into 2 ohms - so you’ll want to pair it with a reasonably efficient speaker. The Essence preamp meanwhile is a repackaging of the Zena preamplifier launched in 2018 (also $17,500), reskinned with cosmetics to match the amp. It features fully balanced operation via a discrete DC-coupled Class A circuit with zero global negative feedback, and can accommodate either of two optional internal modules, the Zena DAC ($6,000) or an MM/MC phono stage ($2,250). Being strictly digital I opted to evaluate the DAC, which I’ll talk about in a later installment. I’ll also save more details about the design and operation of this beautifully-crafted gear, including Gryphon’s unique Green Bias system, for a more in-depth review. For now, let’s get down to the business of how it sounds...

The Essence Preamp

When the Essence components arrived I clearly needed my wife’s assistance to safely unpack and set up the 45kg/99lb Essence amp. But she was busy making reeds for her oboe that evening, so I initially made do setting up the preamp (it weighs in at “only” 13.4kg/29.5lbs) and comparing it to my Pass Labs XP10 with the Pass Labs XA30.5 amplifier.

Firing up the Essence preamp from a cold start was one of those “damn, I don’t understand how a preamp can make this much of a difference” moments. Even though the Pass XP10 is a very solid performer - I find the sound of my PS Audio DirectStream significantly improved by it vs. feeding an amplifier directly - the 3x-as-expensive Gryphon outclassed it from the first note, taking musical resolution from the micro to nano level.

The first thing I noticed was how the entire back of the stage opened up. I never realized how triangular it sounded before, becoming narrower as you went deeper. With the Essence it suddenly feels rectangular and whole, with winds, brass and percussion able to naturally spread out and breath on the stage. It didn’t even take a big orchestral recording to experience this - my very first track was an intimate vocal with piano accompaniment, soprano Elsa Dreisig singing Strauss songs with pianist Jonathan Ware (Qobuz). The sense of the space - a church, as you can see from this video - and where the performers occupied it became strikingly tangible. Piano has starting clarity, with all its complex overtones unfolded and laid out for your ear to sample at its leisure. Dynamic resolution is also unlocked - subtle gradations in vocal intensity flow so organically. Going back to the Pass pre, macro dynamics weren’t Iacking, but the transitions somehow came across more synthetically, as if the volume dial was being turned rather than the performers modulating their instruments in the original performance. 

One thing that didn't change too much was overall tonal balance. I find the Pass pretty neutral and extended, if anything having a subtly warmish character to it, at least by solid state standards. The Gryphon doesn't deviate notably from that, leaning slightly in that direction though with more sophisticated and varied tonal richness and density. The quality of the frequency extremes, however, is a different matter. Most striking is how triangles sparkle and ring with startling presence on the Gryphon. With a claimed frequency response out to 1MHz, the Essence pre delivers the highest highs with a sense of ease and finesse. And the bass is everything people have come to expect from the Gryphon house sound - deep, taut and powerful with beautiful tonality. The Pass Labs wasn’t missing any of the music per se, but the deepest bass notes and highest overtones sounded constrained vs. the effortless and wide-open delivery of the Essence.

So, yeah - a preamplifier that costs 3x as much as the Pass XP10 sounds clearly superior. Not much of a news flash, and a much fairer comparison in the Pass lineup would be the XP32 ($17,500) or at least an XP22 ($9,500). But what took me aback was how a preamplifier like the Essence could bring out so much life and nuance that was being curtailed by an otherwise fine piece like the Pass. The net effect was to make the musical performance feel significantly more tangible, visceral and unclouded - something that even the change of a DAC or amplifier doesn’t consistently achieve. The Gryphon Essence pre is simply an incredible conveyor of the musical signal.

And we haven’t even tried the amplifier yet...

The Essence Amplifier

Once I got my wife to assist in positioning the hefty Essence amp in the cabinet (safety first!), I hooked up the Audiovectors via my usual Audience Au24 SX cables and powered up the Gryphon using the stock power cord (the amp requires a 20A IEC connector, so standard cords won’t work). I played a bit with the Green Bias settings but obviously settled with it in red-hot Class A operation for serious listening. And while the amp has since benefited from multiple months of break-in, it was apparent from its first notes that the Essence had resolution, clarity, dynamics and tonal completeness on an altogether different level from any amp I’ve experienced in my system. But there was something else remarkable about its presentation that’s taken me many months to put my finger on, and I think I might be finally getting it.

The Essence amp has a very special ability to deliver the leading edge of a sound with incredible speed, precision and clarity. I’ve heard amps with fast leading edges (some attribute this to high slew rate), I’ve heard amps with very clean ones (lack of distortion and ringing). The Essence delivers a combination of fast and clean that is truly exceptional, and perhaps close to the state of the art. Every impulse and note attack hits you with perfect timing and delineation, then decay with similarly impeccable control. By comparison, amps like the Pass Labs that struck me as very pure have a bit of fuzz to them. Ever listen to an AM radio station when the signal gets weak, and all the starts and stops of sounds get staticky and fuzzy? There was a bit of that feeling going back to other amps in my system... no, they weren’t literally fuzzy and distorted. It’s just that the Essence amp sounds exceptionally lithe and clean, removing an extremely subtle layer of distortion that became difficult to un-hear in other amplifiers. 

Coming from the Pass XA30.5, the Essence’s midrange was less overtly warm but even more substantive in tone. The Pass is certainly on the warm and lush side for a solid state amp, but past Gryphons I’ve heard had their own dose of chocolatey richness, so I was initially surprised by the balance of the Essence. It has the midrange density and lush tonal colors I was expecting from a Class A Gryphon amp, and yet it also sounds close to dead neutral in character. There’s a crystalline transparency that makes everything else sound a bit cloudy by comparison. Class A amps usually get the tonal part right, but can sound a bit sluggish or rounded dynamically; Class AB amps often have great transient speed but with some roughness around the edges and a bit of tonal hollowness. The Essence backs its exceedingly snappy and clean transients with real tonal substance and an infinite palette of realistic tonal colors. It can simultaneously preserve the gravitas of a string bass ostinato, the glowing warmth of a French horn, the delicate nasality of an oboe and the ethereal lightness of a flute all in balance. Orchestral recordings have never sounded this vivid and realistic in my home.

An interesting display of the amp’s prowess was in violinist Hilary Hahn’s recording of the Vieuxtemps Violin Concerto (Qobuz). The album also contains Mozart’s popular “Turkish” concerto which probably gets most of the plays; the Vieuxtemps is infrequently performed and mostly known by violinists as a sort of advanced student concerto (yes, my teacher made me study it). Vieuxtemps was a Belgian virtuoso of the romantic era and while the concerto has its charms, its orchestration is rather clunky. This actually made for a fascinating sonic experience in the concerto’s orchestral exposition, where different instruments pass melodic fragments back and forth in somewhat disjointed fashion rather than the more cohesive harmonization and counterpoint you’d get from a German master. A flute here, a clarinet there, a timpani roll or violin flourish coming and passing - the Essence conveyed each one with striking clarity and trueness of timbre and dynamics, arranging all the instruments across the stage in perfect proportion. So much of the feel of an instrument lies not just in its tonal makeup but the shape and feel of its notes - the reedy breathiness of a clarinet, the ringing “bong” of a timpani, the firm attack of a trumpet, the brush stroke of a violin. This is where the Essence’s leading-edge precision and lack of electronic haze help it truly evoke the feeling of sitting on the stage with the musicians, each and every instrumental entrance having that tactile realism.

Having been a classmate’s of Ms. Hahn’s I also have first-hand experiences of her playing, and the Essence strongly evoked memories of hearing her performing in recitals or practicing in our conservatory. Though we were both teenagers at the time, she had already developed her distinctive tone and focused intensity, and hearing that reproduced so vividly through the Essence and Audiovector speakers is uncanny.

The frequency extremes of the Essence amp, particularly in combination with the Essence preamp, are also something special - the crazy-wide specified bandwidth of Gryphon components is no joke. The speed and tautness and slam of the bass brings realistic clarity to the foundation of the music. It’s bass that I like to call “sneaky” for the way it doesn’t unduly call attention to itself, but then will come out and smack you in the face as in a live event. Instruments like string bass or contrabassoon are naturally portrayed in the orchestration, rather than getting buried in the mix. The top end is extended and articulate, capable of bringing out all the energy and brilliance of string, brass and percussion instruments, and yet certain recordings that tend towards brightness actually sound warmer and smoother than I've heard before. It sounds so pure and free from distortion, so that if there’s any distortion already present on the recording it does nothing to aggravate it. Sibilants and tape hiss and clipping are still there, yet come across less obtrusively, making them easy to tune out in favor of the music. 

Case in point: the DSD remaster of Strauss Don Juan, recorded in 1958 by the Cleveland Orchestra under George Szell (Qobuz). My wife and I have listened to this recording dozens if not hundreds of times and while the performance is riveting, the recording quality has always been a bit hissy and strident. My wife asked to listen to it again on the Gryphon setup for study purposes and halfway through I remarked, "does this recording sound a lot less bright to you?" She concurred - we had never heard it sound so clean and natural, and for the first time I didn't notice the tape hiss at all. The Gryphon gear really does excel at extracting the essence of the musical performance locked in the recording, neither artificially filtering nor amplifying the distractions of its mechanical limitations. I’ve heard far too many ultra high-end systems that need absolutely pristine audiophile material to sound their best. With the Gryphons, every recording in my collection has never sounded more distinguished and compelling.

The sense of space that the Essence preamp conveyed with other amplifiers becomes even stronger in combination with the Essence amp. I have never heard the different sections of a symphony orchestra arranged so palpably. Winds and percussion have clearly delineated space behind the string section, and delicate clarinet solos that are typically a bit hazy in recordings are conveyed with both clarity and intimacy. There’s something about the Essence’s blend of clean transients, tonal rightness and harmonic resolution that bring out the distinct ambience and texture of each recording - the aural equivalent of the “mouth feel” of a wine. Going back to otherwise excellent amps makes everything feel a bit more homogenous, a hair less stimulating.

There are a couple of potential shortcomings to call out, and they may be interrelated. The first is that the bass in combination with the Audiovector speakers isn’t quite as hard-hitting as with, say, the 600wpc Class D Legacy iv2, or as what I heard with the Gryphon Diablo 300 integrated; nor is it as plump and room-filling as with the Pass XA30.5. Quality-wise it’s exceptional - fast and deep and pitch-perfect in ways they can’t match - but sometimes I just want it to fill out the space a bit more and punch me in the gut a little harder. I mostly miss this when listening to pop tracks, e.g. anything from Billie Eilish where the raw punch of the Legacy amp factors more strongly than the n-th degree of refinement from the Gryphon.

The other nit is that the soundstage, while vividly painted, feels a bit less “generous” than bigger-sounding amps like the Legacy or Pass Labs, or the Gryphon Diablo for that matter. There’s a bit more emphasis on the precise constituency of an orchestra, as opposed to its sheer scale - a little more of the trees, a little less of the forest. To some, this may make the Essence feel a hair light in presentation, despite its rich and layered midrange.  Ears I trust tell me moving up the Gryphon line to the Antileon EVO or Mephisto can give you the best of both worlds, but those are obviously at increasingly exorbitant price points. 

I’ll need to try tweaking these area of reproduction more (e.g. cables), but as it currently stands, I could see the Essence best matching with speakers that are tonally richer and a bit less critically damped on the bottom end, vs. requiring care with something leaner and more laser-focused. It’s slightly lean with some recordings on the Audiovectors, and I’d definitely want to check before paring it with the likes of a Magico. It goes without saying that when you get to this level of fidelity (and cost), you should expect to spend a fair amount of time and effort on component matching.

As a side note, I was able to further extend the capabilities of the Essence via Furutech’s DPS-4.1 power cord (custom built with 20A connectors) and DSS-4.1 speaker cables. These upped the clarity and transparency yet another notch or three, opened up dynamics further and created a wider sense of space on recording after recording. I’ll have more on these excellent cables and how they synergize with the Gryphons in a future installment.

Capturing the Essence

It’s been challenging pinning down the character of the Essence system, the amp in particular. Even more so than other great Class A amps I’ve heard, including from Gryphon, the Essence amp has a combination of purity, openness, refinement, clarity, speed and dynamic life that defy the usual idiosyncrasies and limitations of Class A vs. AB vs. D. It’s dynamically fleet, rhythmically incisive, tonally sophisticated, dimensionally resolving, and sneakily powerful and punchy. In combination with the superb companion preamp, it uncovers a sense of space in virtually every recording I throw at it with greater detail and palpability than I’ve heard before, without seeming artificially holographic like some tube amps. The tonal purity and resolving power of this pair are simply at a level I have rarely experienced anywhere at any price. Moreover, the name “Essence” couldn’t be more apt - all these sophisticated qualities are squarely focused on conveying the beauty and quirks of the original recording without need for enhancement or editorializing to make it enjoyable. The closest aural recollection I have of this sort of musical resolution was the MSB Reference + Magico M3 system at RMAF 2018, which had a significantly superior DAC and a total cost approaching $300k. 

As for the price... well, I can say that the monies spent on a piece by The Gryphon clearly go towards obsessive engineering and craftsmanship in the service of state-of-the-art music reproduction, rather than ostentation or frivolous excess. This is musical fidelity of the highest order, and my new reference in amplification.