#and pay ghost zone lawyers

[drsilverfish]

Where’s the Angel? Angel, Dark Angel and Fight Club In 15x10 The Hero’s Journey

That was so accomplished - a real treat of an episode from Andrew Dabb, in which he explores the meta-narrative of it all. 

There are so many layers I can’t even, and I’m sure all you lovely earlier time-zone people have already got going on many of them. 

Before I dive into all your posts, I thought I’d start with Dabb’s Angel, Dark Angel and Fight Club subtext.

It’s fitting, no doubt, that Dabb should pay tribute both to Joss Whedon’s Angel and to James Cameron’s Dark Angel, because Buffy and Angel have long been sources of inspiration in the SPN writers’ room, and, of course, Jensen played a character (two clone brothers, Ben/ Alec) in Dark Angel.

1x16 The Ring is the Angel episode where our vampire hero gets kidnapped and put into a monster fighting ring.

Dabb’s reference to it here, provides a meta-commentary on 15x10 The Hero’s Journey, because in the Angel episode, the monsters are not actually the real monsters. They are kidnapped, Roman-style slave-gladiators. The real monsters are the lawyers and other rich people, who pay to direct, and bet on, the brutal, bloody show  - in other words, a pretty clear Chuck analogy. 

Just as the return of Werewolf!Garth in 15x10 also shows us that the SPN monsters are not the real villains (not always, anyway, sometimes they’re friends).....  the real villain is a twisted, controlling, writer-God. 

2x15 Fuhgeddaboudit is the Dark Angel episode where Alec gets kicked in the nuts in a cage-fighting ring by Max (Jessica Alba) (just as Dean gets kicked in the nuts by the monster cage-fighter Maul in 15x10):

This inter-textual reference of Dabb’s also comments on 15x10 The Hero’s Journey, because in that Dark Angel episode, our heroes are all being manipulated by a transgenic, the vampish Mia, with mind-control powers. Again, we have a Chuck analogy.

Of course, both these shows, Angel and Dark Angel, also have an “angel” in the title. So, although Cas is off somewhere, “in Heaven” in 15x10, he’s right there in the inter-textual subtext of Dabb’s episode. 

And let’s not forget that both Angel and Dark Angel had love (their main “Angel” and “Dark Angel” characters’ romantic arcs) as well as monsters, at the heart of their shows. 

Dabb is making another analogy here.... hmmmn, what could it be?!?!?!?  

Dean’s tap-dancing dream-sequence gives us a bit of a, subtextual, clue. He’s dressed in glittering white, for a start - the colour of Heaven. And he’s dancing to a Cole Porter song, “Let’s Misbehave”. Porter was, of course, gay. 

“They say the spring means just one thing to little love-birds,” croons the tune, as Dean dances with a standing-lamp:

Lamp-shading, in subtext, that there is a certain angel Dean would like to “misbehave” with.

It’s also, of course, deeply touching, because dancing becomes a metaphor for love and happiness. Garth has found it, and in the dream-sequence, we see Garth teaching it to Dean, just as we see Sam and Dean both looking longingly through the window at Garth and Bess dancing together in domestic bliss, at the end. Dabb himself is lamp-shading, heavily, the happy endings the Winchesters deserve.

Now, of course, the Angel and Dark Angel episodes above, and therefore Dabb’s 15x10 Supernatural episode all pay a little homage to Fight Club (1999). 

Fight Club is a movie, like several dozen others SPN has referenced over the years (and remember, accidents don’t just happen accidentally) with a strong homoerotic subtext, namely between Tyler Durden and the Narrator.

Ah yes, the classic Hollywood “gun in the mouth as a penis metaphor”:

Of course, Durden turns out to be a mental projection of the Narrator’s, a Shadow-self, a doppleganger. In subtext (in one reading of Fight Club) the Narrator (who is attracted to Durden’s machismo) is closeted. 

And doesn’t that just have resonances for Dean, who has just been on an underworld journey to Purgatory 2.0 (a metaphor for a Jungian meeting with the Shadow-self) where he has turned and faced one layer of his own Shadow, namely, the rage he inherited from his traumatic childhood, that controls him as if he were his own rage-filled father.  And that encounter, allowed him to be more emotionally open with Cas than he’s ever been before.

S14 spent a long time associating, in subtext, Dean’s Shadow-self with his closeted queerness (as per my previous posts on the Ma’lak box as a metaphor for the closet) as well as with the repressive Ghost of John Winchester - the two, of course, linked, by John’s requirement for Dean to perform a certain kind of hetero-masculinity.

Fight Club at its heart, involves an interrogation of masculinity. Also, just like the Dark Angel episode 2x15 Fuhgeddaboudit, it involves manipulated reality, as we the audience only gradually realise that the Narrator is hallucinating Durden.  

Which, in this most meta of SPN episodes, leaves us, woven into Dabb’s inter-textual subtext, with the same questions Sam and Dean have. 

How much of who the Winchesters are and what’s happening to them is down to Chuck’s manipulations, and how much is down to their own free will?

This is the theme of the final quest on the Winchesters’ own “hero’s journey”.

My usual disclaimer applies: reading the queer subtext in SPN does not promise or imply we are going to get inarguable confetti and a rainbow parade at The EndTM.  But, subtext IS part of narrative. 

[writingpitcheswearingpearls]

Drawn to You

Summary:  When Danny goes to a psychic to get his soulmate drawn, he's expectantly pretty confused about why she's drawn him with a colour palette change.

Read on Ao3

Danny had been having a pretty good day with his friends, using their free Saturday to go to the arcade. In an attempt to not burn through all their allowance before they could save up for the upcoming Doomed game, Danny and Tucker painfully had to request Sam to drag them away from the venue once they hit their budget. Despite the grumbling he’d done when Sam followed through with it, Danny still felt it was a good day overall. That was, until they crossed paths with the A-Listers from school.

He was hoping that if they kept their heads down, that the trio could pass the popular kids without being noticed. When Paulina gasped at something she saw in a shop window and got them all to look with her, he felt like it might just work.

“Oh look, a psychic who draws your soulmate!” She exclaimed excitedly, jumping up and down and clapping. Being distracted by the movement was enough for Dash to catch sight of him in the shop window reflection. The tall boy wore a malicious smirk before chortling.

“Fenturd doesn’t have to pay her to know he’ll die alone.” The bully teased loudly, turning and jabbing Danny in the collarbone. To Danny’s surprise, the comment hurt a lot more than the harsh jab that would probably bruise later. He was a loser after all, so how likely was it that he’d die alone? If he did have a soulmate, they’d probably rather be caught dead than be his soulmate and ask for a refund. Who in the world would ever want to be his soulmate?

“Shut up Dash! Danny’s far more likely to have a soulmate than someone as awful as you!” Sam growled defensively, pushing herself between Dash and Danny. Dash glowered at her furiously, puffing up his chest as he towered over her.

“You think because you’re a girl I won’t wail on you, Manson?” He sneered in an imposing tone that frightened Danny but seemed to have no effect on Sam.

“No, I think you won’t wail on me because if I sue you for it I can afford far better lawyers.” She quipped back, folding her arms and attempting to be as tall as possible. Dash went red and was shaking with fury. Danny and Tucker swapped a worried look between themselves. This was usually the best time to start running, but it didn’t seem like Sam was going to back down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dash yelled, grabbing Sam by the front of her shirt. Kwan winced, before grabbing Dash’s hands and forcing them away from Sam.

“It means shut up before you do something insanely stupid. Come on, let’s go to the arcade.” Kwan warned, trying to coax his friend away from the trio. With an irritated huff, Dash eventually stopped resisting and stomped off with the rest of the A-Listers.

“Sam, are you okay? That was insane!” Tucker checked, fussing over his friend. Sam swatted him away dismissively, rolling her eyes.

“It was nothing, don’t worry. It’s not like I could just stand there and let Dash talk about Danny like that.” With that statement, both Sam and Tucker shifted their glances to Danny. Feeling uncomfortable with their sympathetic looks, his eyes darted away and locked onto the first thing he saw. The sign that Paulina had pointed out.

Psychic Drawing of Soulmate: $10 Limited Time Only

He was embarrassed to admit the idea tempted him. Had his parents’ lunatic ravings about ghosts finally gotten to him? He knew psychics weren’t real, so why did he want to give this con artist any of his money? Was just the concept of seeing the face of someone who could love him enough to turn him into a gullible fool?

“Danny? Are you okay, bud?” Tucker asked with a concerned tone. Danny snapped out of his thoughts and looked back to his friends, both of whom looked quite worried.

“You’re not thinking about going in there, are you? Come on, Danny! We’re thirteen, we’re too young to be thinking about love and soulmates!” Sam argued, reaching for Danny’s wrist to tug him away from the shop. Reflexively, he side-stepped towards the door to the shop and out of her reach.

“I…I’ll catch up with you later online, okay?” He farewelled, before quickly pulling open the door and escaping into the psychic’s store.

The interior every bit as stereotypical as he expected. Between the dark brown walls, the dim, warm light bulbs in the tiny chandelier, the candles scattered around the room and the velvet curtains drawn over the window, he felt like he had stepped from late afternoon into midnight. This area seemed to be a waiting room, he observed from the reception desk and the line of chairs against the wall.

“Hello, child. Curious about the unknown, or just trying to get away from bullies? I sense fear and hurt in your aura.” Danny whipped around to see a woman standing in a doorway leading to another room. She had curly, auburn hair swept out of her face by a colourful scarf that was tied off behind her neck and draped over her shoulder. A wheat coloured loose-knit shawl wrapped around her arms over the floor length burgundy dress she wore. She was a few bangles away from being exactly what Danny expected a psychic to look like.

“Uh…I saw the sign in the window, so I was wondering if…” He started, finding himself far too embarrassed to continue the sentence. A soft expression of surprise swept the woman’s face.

“You want me to draw your soulmate? But you’re so young!” She exclaimed. Danny nervously wrung the bottom of his shirt in his hands, eyes low and avoiding contact with her.

“I don’t need to meet them or anything. I just… want to know if I have one at all.” He admitted, tears threatening to escape. After an uncomfortable amount of silence, Danny dared to look up at the woman to find her looking at him with an expression of indecision. Noticing him looking at her, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Okay, I will draw your soulmate for you. As long as you keep in mind that it might take a long time for you to meet them, and it might not be easy to win them over if – when you do. This person is a complement to your soul, but we can’t account for free will.” She disclaimed cautiously. Danny couldn’t quite tell if it was authentic, or just vague excuses to explain why her predictions haven’t turned out to be true to avoid being sued. At this point he was far too curious and desperate, so when she asked him for his name and date of birth before asking him to wait while she prepared the drawing room, he obliged.

By the time she returned, his leg was in full nervous bounce mode and he was all too keen to follow her into the drawing room. This space was better lit than the waiting room, which made sense considering what it was for. At the centre of the room was a small round table with a strip of black velvet draped over it and old looking chairs tucked in to either side. He took the seat he was offered and watched as she paced over to another table and grabbed a tray of burning incense and a small sketchpad before she returned and took the chair opposite him at the table.

“I will now tap into the spirit realm and draw upon their energies to find your soulmate. It requires a lot of focus, so please try not to do anything to distract me during the process. I will show you when it is done.” She explained. When Danny gave a nod of understanding, she shifted her weight in her chair and closed her eyes. After a few moments, she began to sway and Danny could see her eyes behind her lids begin to twitch. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and began to draw. Despite her eyes seeming glazed over, she never missed the paper in front of her even when she swapped to a different pencil, seeming completely in the zone. It could have been five minutes or an hour, but eventually the psychic stopped drawing and shook her head as if snapping out of a daze. Danny sat up in his chair excited. He was going to find out what his soulmate looked like. Would he already know them, or would it be a completely unfamiliar face? He watched the woman expectantly, waiting for her to turn the paper around. She looked down at her work and froze with a completely bewildered expression on her face.

“W-What the fuck?” Blurted from her mouth as her eyes remained wide open. Danny felt a pit form in his stomach. What the hell could that reaction mean?

“What’s wrong? Who did you draw?” Danny asked, making no attempt to hide how nervous he felt in his tone. The woman quickly looked up at him, then back at the drawing, before returning her gaze to him.

“Something’s gone wrong. I don’t understand why I drew this.” She stated, looking extremely confused. Danny pushed himself out of the chair and onto his feet.

“What is it? Show me!” He cried out, more and more panicked by the second. The woman’s eyes widened even further and she clung the drawing to her chest.

“That might not be a good idea. Maybe I should try again –”

“No! Give it to me!” He demanded, striding over to her and tugging the sketchpad out of her hands, her reflexes being too slow to stop him. When he turned the drawing side towards himself, it felt like his brain shut down. She’d just drawn him but with green eyes and without filling in his hair dark.

“What the hell? Is this some kind of joke?” He asked, anger rising in his chest.

“What – No! I did what I always do, I don’t know what went wrong!” She replied, panic warping her features. Danny scoffed.

“Yeah, right. Am I supposed to believe some spirits told you that my soulmate is just me in a blonde wig? I knew psychics were fake, why did I think…” He started to complain, stopping himself when he felt tears trailing down his face. He had to get out of there before it could get any more embarrassing. Without any warning, Danny took off, clutching the snatched sketchpad to his chest and bolting all the way home. Angrily, he threw the sketchpad into the back of his cupboard and slammed it shut before throwing himself onto the bed and crying until he fell asleep.

///

Phantom groaned as he saw the contents of Danny’s latest purchase.

“Danny! You already own shoes nearly identical to these!” He berated, hovering over his human half as he reclined on the bed. Danny looked up from his phone to see what Phantom was talking about.

“Oh. Whoops. I’ll return them tomorrow.” He stated, before turning his attention back to the phone. Phantom rolled his eyes. Despite this split not being as severe as it was the first time in terms of personality clashes, Phantom still had moments where Danny’s episodes of laziness were incredibly frustrating.

“If you bothered to keep your closet tidy, you wouldn’t get yourself into situations where you can’t remember what you already own.” Phantom lectured, lingering over the human under scrutiny. Danny sighed as he put the phone down.

“Ugh, you’re right. It just got so bad so fast, so it’s hard to know how to start.” Danny admitted, sitting up on the bed. Phantom smiled at his other half, heart warmed by the maturity to admit he made a mistake. More often than not he found himself enjoying the type of person his other half was. Despite the odd complaint here and there, he was truly grateful it was better this time. He wasn’t sure he’d keep it together long enough for the ghost catcher to be repaired if he had to deal with “fun” Danny instead of “easily distracted but means well” Danny. To be fair, the human had a lot more things to focus on than him. All Phantom had to think about was stopping ghosts and that wasn’t even all the time.

“Tell you what; how about I help you? It won’t seem nearly as daunting with someone pitching in.” Phantom suggested, lowering himself to be level with Danny. The human gave a grateful smile and nod, and the two of them made their way to the closet.

“You work on picking up the clothes that have fallen off their hangers and rehang them, I’ll pick up all the miscellaneous items and see if I can find a more appropriate home for them. Then, the shoes should be easy to deal with.” Phantom instructed, before getting to work. It was strange how much easier it was to have organised thoughts now they were separated. He supposed that was because his thought process no longer relied on getting enough chemicals in order to focus. It was a hidden plus that when Danny was forcing himself to concentrate he made the silliest little faces. Not that Phantom would ever tell him.

After pulling out a basketball, an old school bag, and several old text books, Phantom stumbled upon a sketchpad. Turning it over, he was surprised to see a drawing of himself on the front page. It was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t recall why, just like with any memory from Danny that had happened before the portal accident. For some reason Phantom didn’t have a hundred percent access to those memories, but usually it didn’t bother him too much until now. Why did Danny have a drawing of Phantom before he existed? Attempting to calm down, he tried to rationalise it. Maybe this drawing happened after the current split, and it only seems familiar because it’s him.

“Danny? What’s this?” Phantom asked, turning the drawing to his human half and waiting for what he hoped was a rational explanation. Danny glanced over curiously, but as soon as he caught sight of the sketchpad his face went white and his expression dropped.

“W-Where did you get that?” Danny stammered, looking like he was going to throw up.

“It was in the back of your closet. What’s going on?” Phantom questioned, getting worried. Danny tentatively reached forward and plucked the drawing out of Phantoms hands, staring at the thing like he couldn’t believe it was real.

“I forgot all about this. I was so upset. I wanted to forget about it. I can’t believe…” Danny murmured, trailing off as his gaze drifted from the paper to Phantom.

“Danny, you’re scaring me.” Phantom whispered, watching myriad emotions dance across the human’s face and body language. Eventually, he locked onto nervous and shifted uncomfortably as he struggled to maintain eye contact with Phantom.

“I should explain. When I was thirteen, I went to this psychic who claimed she could draw a person’s… soulmate.” Danny began shakily, blushing with embarrassment. Phantom’s eyes went wide as he realised what the human was saying.

“Sh-She drew m-me?” Phantom asked, voice shaking just as much as Danny’s had. Instead of speaking, Danny offered an awkward nod.

“For you?” Phantom continued to question. Anybody else might have been happy making the assumption, but he had to know for sure. Danny clenched his eyes shut and gave an even more frantic nod. Phantom felt anchored and weightless all at once. He wasn’t just a ghost half, he was a soulmate. To Danny. Phantom felt like he could laugh and shoot up into the stratosphere until Danny’s reaction fully hit him. The human was still sitting with his eyes scrunched up and his body tense, like he was bracing to be hit with a fire-hose. Was this not a happy revelation for both of them? Phantom floated closer to Danny and carefully placed a hand on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong? Do you not want to be soulmates?” The question got Danny to open his eyes and look up at him with a confused, indecisive expression.

“How can we be soulmates? We’re the same person.” Danny mumbled. Phantom paused to think. Sure they used to be the same person, but were they the same person like this? Neither of them was like a duplicate that behaved like an extra limb, and they both had independent thoughts and feelings. Is that all it takes for someone to be a different person? Phantom shook his head and placed his other hand on Danny’s cheek.

“It doesn’t matter how. All I know is that I’m happy by your side and I don’t want to leave. Are you happy? Would you want me to leave?” Phantom spoke softly, yet determined. Danny’s eyes blew wide open as he gazed into Phantom’s.

“No! I mean, I’m happy and I don’t want you to leave!” Danny replied frantically, as if the idea of Phantom leaving was the scariest thing he could think of. Phantom leaning in and pressed their foreheads together, relishing in the human’s body heat.

“If a soulmate is somebody you want to be with forever, then I’d call you my soulmate in a heartbeat.” Phantom quietly declared. He felt the body he was holding shiver.

“Really?” Danny whispered, pulling away just far enough to look clearly in Phantom’s eyes.

“With absolutely no hesitation.” Phantom answered, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss into Danny’s lips.

Needless to say, when the ghost catcher was finally fixed, they didn’t see a need to use it.

BONUS:

Hayley sipped her tea as she watched the television in her cosy little break room. One of the perks from pretending to have psychic powers was that certain clients sent her gifts when they were satisfied with her work. The tea had been a gift from a woman who had somehow managed to end up with who Hayley had based her “psychic vision” on. All she’d done was look the woman up on Facebook and imagined who would be a good pick for her based on her friends list. Just like always, she didn’t pick until she began drawing. It was more fun that way and required less thinking. The only time her method hadn’t worked was with that poor boy. His teary face haunted her, and she’d questioned why she’d drawn what she had drawn since that day. Maybe that’s why when a certain news story interrupted her program, she immediately spat out her tea at what she saw.

Front and centre of the screen was the face of that boy, only now he had white hair, green eyes, and was shooting bright green beams at a ghost. The newscaster said he was a ghost that came through a portal from the Ghost Zone and Hayley immediately dropped her mug. How could she not? It was easy to be shocked that after hundreds of times of pretending to tap into the spirit realm, she actually had for once. Who knows, maybe she had been tapping into this “Ghost Zone” this whole time, and ghosts were the reason she had been so successful for so many years?

So years later, when she received an invitation in the mail to the wedding of Daniel Fenton and Phantom, she was more than happy to RSVP as attending.

[therisinggear]

Ghost Of a Chance. Chapter 1

A Ghost of a Chance!: The Ghost Queen's Slaughter!  

                                                          ~Amity Park- Three years ago~

The town of Amity Park, a town tied to the paranormal. Ghosts from other dimensions have invaded the living plane of existence time and time again. Most are just relatively normal people. While others are, for lack of a better term Supervillains. Because of the influx of evil ghosts, one young hero fought to keep the peace. 

Danny Fenton was just fourteen when his parents built a very strange machine. The Ghost Portal, It was designed to view a world unseen. During its test run, it failed to activate and it was left to collect dust in its parent's lab. 

One day on a dare from his friends made him put on a Jumpsuit and go inside it. "I still think this is a REALLY bad idea, Sam! Have you ever even seen The Fly?" Danny tells her before he accidentally presses the On button, activating the portal with him inside with the help of this horrifyingly dangerous design flaw. With a bright green glow, Danny's screams in agony. His friend Tucker holds Sam back when she tries to run in and get Danny out. "NO STOP IT'S TOO DANGEROUS!!" Tucker screams at her.  

"LET ME GO TUCKER If We Don't DO ANYTHING DANNY IS GOING TO DIE!!" Sam screams as she kicks Tucker in the stomach. He drops to the floor with the wind knocked out of him. A changed Danny stumbles out, staggered by the experience. His black hair is now snow white and his blue eyes now glowing green. The white/Black jumpsuit had its colors inverted. 

After that Life changing day, Danny gained the abilities of a ghost. While learning his new abilities became a hero. At one point even saved the earth with every ghost he ever fought.                

~Three years Later~

After fighting ghosts for three whole years, Amity Park has had ghosts become an everyday part of life. With Danny becoming a literal symbol of Ghost and Humans working well together, Ghost has been given rights as citizens. Some of Danny's old enemies gave up antagonizing humans and got real jobs. 

Sidney Poindexter got his GED and became an Anti-bully activist. He actively reduced bullying in schools by telling kids how he took his own life because of it.

The Hothead Ember Mclain made it big as a legitimate performer with a record deal. She may even be going platinum soon. 

Hell, even The Box Ghost got a job with FedEx.

One day, Danny was out buying new college prep books when he spotted another one of his old enemies in the coffee shop, looking depressed. Desiree the wishing ghost is waiting for her coffee, dressed in a suit.  She appears worried about something, checking her watch. 

"Oh boy this can't be good."  He mumbled to himself, trying not to draw her attention. He starts to feel sorry when she pays for her coffee. A heartbroken Desiree just stares blankly at her phone. Soon she spots him in the distance and politely waves while grinding her teeth. "Fantastic, My date stands me up and now I have to deal with the Phantom boy!"       

 "Oh man, I'm so going to regret this later." He awkwardly waves back at her before gesturing to her he is leaving. Danny walks away with a sigh of relief. "Talk about awkward running into a former enemy!" Without paying attention he bumps into Desiree. "Ahem!" 

Danny would have jumped in shock if his Ghost Sense didn't already let him know she was right in front of him. Desiree looks down at him with her arms crossed. "What do you want, Phantom?" An enraged scowl on her face before she notices the books in his hand. "Oh, you didn't come for me!" She calms down a bit and even laughs. "Forgive me, I've not been in the best of moods."

Danny laughs, nearly dropping his books. "I was just as surprised to see you, Desiree! I almost went ghost like the old days out of habit." The former adversaries laugh at the whole situation. "So how are you, Desiree? By the get up I'm assuming you've gone legit like a lot of other ghosts."

"Yes I passed the bar exam and I'm now a lawyer." She clarifies with pride written on her face. "I happened to order two coffees and my date decided not to show up, care to join me?" 

Both of them return to the coffee shop and have a friendly conversation, like the hostilities of their past is now gone."Your date sounds like a real dumbass to stand you up. So you chose to be a lawyer? I have to admit I never saw that one coming. The Box Ghost working at FedEx I saw a mile away, but this takes me by surprise." The ghost boy admits to her.

"In the last three years, I've tried many different jobs but being a Lawyer had the most appeal, so I committed to law school. Getting a GED was the First real challenge because the last time I had a formal education was two-thousand years ago. " She points at Danny's books while taking a sip. "So how about you Phantom? You look like you are getting serious in your studies in these peaceful times."

"I want to be an astronaut one day and with the lack of Ghost fighting, I've had more time to study for it. Good riddance too, I never really liked all the non-stop fighting anyway. Like the first time we fought, You kicked my butt big time before I made a wish." 

"I hope one day my wishes can come true," Desiree mumbled to herself with some regret. "The one thing I can never have."

"Your own Kingdom if I remember that gypsy's story right." Danny muses out loud. Desiree shakes her head with a sad look on her face. 

"That was just a superficial legend, not the real story. What I really wish for is something I never had."                        

~Fenton labs~

Four years after Danny got his powers from the ghost portal, the constant battles always took their toll on him every time but he always bounced back. From the Box ghost to the former ghost King, he always came back stronger. However, he might have his hands full this time. His many enemies began the unthinkable. They somehow found a way to make his ability to feel the incoming presence of another ghost useless. Under the command of the new Ghost Queen, they went after his friends and family one by one. 

Wave after wave of the Ghost Queen's minions worn the now eighteen-year-old ghost boy down. Soon he was overpowered by her most fearsome henchmen, Beaten to the point he could not fight back. 

He is on his knees in a Burning laboratory as his two most powerful foes looming above him. The Fright Knight, the spirit of Halloween and an evil older copy of himself from another timeline called  Dark Danny. "Games over kid it's been over before it even began!" His evil parallel self-boast. Dark Danny lifts Danny by the neck, strangling his younger self while charging up a blast in his other hand. Danny is too beaten and bloody to fight back. "Time to DIE!!"     

Danny almost gets blasted through the stomach before the Fright Knight cuts Dark Danny's arm off. "Her Highness the Queen ordered us to bring him to her alive!!" The Knight snarls at his partner. An enraged Dark Danny throws a swing before the Fright Knight has a blast aimed at his head. "And I've been given the freedom to eliminate you if I see fit!"  

Dark Danny stops baring his teeth at the knight and regains his cool. "You know, I liked it better when you served me in my timeline." He drops Danny and reattaches his arm. 

A terrified Danny tries to crawl away but is too gravely injured to get far. "D-Danny?" His sister Jazz is buried under rubble, in tears and reaching out to him as she bleeds out. Dark Danny picks Jazz up off the ground by the hair. A sadistic smirk on his face as he looks down at Danny. "Hello sis, miss me?" Jazz spits blood in his face as a last act of defiance. "Go To Hell!"  

"You're already here Jazz, and you are about to meet the devil herself?" He puts her in an ectoplasmic bubble along with Danny. "Lucky for you, she did say to bring at least one living family member." 

He waves his hand to make a Ghost Portal. 

~Ghost Zone~

The two villains enter it, on the other side is a massive palace in the Ghost Zone. Various ghosts and humans on their knees in the throne room. A ghostly servant blows a horn, "Presenting The new Ghost Queen! Her Highness Queen..." A tall busty woman with an hourglass figure walks down a dark corridor, her red eyes shine in the darkness before she enters the light. Her skin is brown with glowing veins marks all over her arms, veins that change between red blue yellow and green. "...Desiree!"

The (Former) Wishing Ghost sets on her new throne, giving Danny a lustful leer. "Bring him closer and release him." She orders her henchmen, her eyes never leaving the ghost boy. Dark Danny makes his Ecto-Bubble vanish, he kicks his younger counterpart towards the foot of Desiree's throne. The barely conscious Danny can't keep his eyes open as The Ghost Queen gingerly caresses his face. "And I had this grand speech planned and you deliver him to me almost dead!?"

Dark Danny laughs smugly with fangs before a look of rage takes over him. He is looking at his hand as he is being removed from existence in green fire. "We had a deal! I give you what you want, you give me what I want!", He screams. 

Desiree picks Danny up bridal style, her expression is cold as she glares at Dark Danny. "Your results are unsatisfactory, enjoy existing no more." Dark Danny disappears, vanishing within the flames.

~Hours later~

Danny wakes up in a large bed with all his injuries healed. "Where am I?!" He gets out of the bed only to fall on his face, his legs feel like jelly. "Oh great, I'm in enemy territory and I can't walk or go ghost!" Arms wrap around him as a pair of soft lips kissed him on the cheek. He spots the Ring of Rage on her finger. He sees Desiree's new look like she is almost human again. The flaming crown of her head gives him a clue, much to his horror. 

"The numbness will subside in time, but you need to rest," Desiree whispers into his ear, her embrace getting tighter when Danny struggles to get loose. "Desiree, is this really you? What did you do to yourself!?"              

She puts him back in the bed. Danny then remembers Jazz was with him. "Jazz, what did you do to her?!", He shouts at her.

"Healed up and resting in another room. As for what I did to myself..." She puts her right hand up to Danny so he can see the glowing Ring. "...I transcended beyond a ghost or my original humanity, with the power of the former ghost king's ring and crown." 

Danny looks at her with abstract terror. "You took those from him?! Do you have any idea what those can do?! If your not careful you can destroy the whole ghost zone and the earth along with it!"

"Worth the risk, I am making an empire, one where ghosts and Humans can be equals. I'm just about finished all I need now is..." Queen Desiree forces him down onto the bed, She Kisses Danny while holding him down. She moans loudly, forcing her tongue down his thought.      "...a king to rule beside me!~"

All Danny can say is a flat, "W-What the fuck!? Those things are making you crazy!" His eyes were wide with shock and confusion. "What does this have to do with me anyway?!"  

Desiree while still on top smiles warmly, laying next to him.  "It's Very simple Danny.~" Her voice is sweet, yet has an undertone of insanity. "You and I marry then rule a glorious empire as Husband and Wife."

"I'm a little young for you, don't you think? I only just turned eighteen." He asks Desiree with a sliver of fear. 

"TIME OUT!!"  

Time is frozen in place and when it starts Danny is gone. "Oh, no Worries Your of age now. Wait..." The Ghost Queen looks around the room before flinging into a rage. She fires a blast that destroys a wall. "Clockwork!" 

Queen Desiree flies out so fast she makes a sonic boom.   

~Clockwork's Realm~      

Clockwork the master of time opens up a portal in time. A weakened and injured Danny has a Time medallion on him. "If you wish to Save all of the creation, go now!" The normally calm Master of time screams in panic. 

Danny limps into the Time portal and in a flash of light is gone. "DANNY!!!" The Ghost Queen screams blows open the wall. *BOOM!* She conjures skeletal arms to bind Clockwork and depower him. "Clockwork Your queen has questions regarding her consort! Return him to me and I'll show you mercy and even forgive your crimes!" 

"Danny is already gone and you can't get to him. You may be seemingly omnipotent with the power of the Ghost King but even You have no power over time!" Desiree blasts him into oblivion, leaving no trace of Clockwork. With a snap of her finger, The Fright Knight is Summoned. 

"Follow Danny and bring him to me no matter the cost!"

"At once your majesty!" Her knight with his orders enters the portal. 

Queen Desiree descends into maniacal laughter. "I will have you, Danny! Even if I have to rip apart time and space! So I wish it so shall it be!!"

[ecto-american]

Broken Ectoplasm C13

DannyMay themed story don’t bully me at it being DECEMBER i’m trying my best

Ectoplasm | Broken | Glass | Theory | Community | Eavesdropping | Worldbuilding | Accident | History | Shape shift | Puppet | Ink | Or Read on FFN or AO3. | 

The unspoken answer was very, very unlikely. But until it was spoken, the answer was always no, right? So fuck it.

"Hey, can I primarily question Phantom?" Agent G asked. His partner looked at him skeptically, and the officer with them said nothing.

"No," Agent K replied. "Can't afford for you to make rookie mistakes." Agent G frowned.

"How am I ever supposed to learn?" he asked. "You'll be right there with me. Come on, I'll even write up the whole report."

"Phantom is a serious and dangerous threat," the other replied. "We're not leaving the questions to a rookie."

The elevator doors opened, and the trio walked towards the room. A nurse was waiting at the door for them, only giving a polite hello before opening it for them. Agent K just gave a brief nod before slipping inside, and Officer Snowden offered a thanks.

Agent G walked into the room behind his fellow agent and the officer, and he immediately saw Phantom. He didn't look nearly as bad as he had expected, though he could see bruising that had begun to heal around his throat. He had plenty of bandaging covering what he assumed to be surgical scars, and Phantom was alert. He sat up in bed, watching them as the lawyer, Ohmer, from the day before, stood with him.

To his surprise, Phantom's eyes were locked onto him specifically the second he entered. Looking at him strangely, almost as if...he recognized him? Would Phantom really recognize him from years ago? When he kind of saved Agent G from the Guys in White shooting at him? Heh. Kinda ironic. But Agent G was skeptical that Phantom really had gotten that good of a look at him then. Or maybe Phantom was taken aback by seeing an unintentional doppelganger.

"His jaw's wired shut," Ohmer spoke up. She pointed to the whiteboard and markers in Phantom's lap. "So we've been using this to communicate." Agent K grumbled in disgust. Phantom not being able to talk would mean that the entire interview would take much, much longer, since Phantom had to write every word out. There would be less body language to dissect, less visual cues. It was more work than Agent K was willing to do. This was a good opportunity.

"Ugh, of course," he muttered, adjusting his suit a bit with a tired sigh. Agent G nudged him, giving a half smile. Agent K stared at him coldly before making an annoyed sigh. "Go for it, rookie. But if you fuck this up, it's on you. And you're writing the report."

"Noted," the younger agent agreed.

Agent G eagerly grabbed one of the chairs, pulling it up to sit next to Phantom. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Phantom continue to stare at him with a raised eyebrow and slight awe. Curious. Agent G shrugged it off best he could, taking his seat and pulling his notebook out to take notes. He couldn't help but notice that Agent K was not doing the same, instead scrolling through his phone. Probably on Facebook again.

"Hey," Agent G began, feeling suddenly…awkward. He didn't think he'd get this far. Phantom stared at him. "So, um, I'm Agent G. I'm from the Guys in White." Phantom blinked at him, head jerking a bit as if that surprised him. "What do you want me to call you?"

Phantom picked up the whiteboard, still staring at him. But he soon broke the staredown to scribble out on the whiteboard.

Phantom is fine.

"Cool, cool," Agent G nodded. He took a deep breath before flipping through his notebook. He had all of his questions written out on the first page, a number next to them. The rookie studied his questions before picking one to start with. Flipping to a new page, he wrote the number associated with the question before looking up to Phantom. "Do you remember when Amity Park was going through that overshadowing epidemic?"

Phantom cocked his head curiously. He seemed surprised by the question, but he nodded. Agent G took note of that before he continued.

"Do you know why they did that?" Agent G continued. "Why the ghosts were overshadowing people in such a mass wave?"

If he seemed surprised before, Phantom look drop dead shocked at this line of questioning. Agent G was sure that had his jaw not been wired shut, that Phantom would be staring open mouthed at him. His lips opened a bit, exposing the metal that was keeping him from being unable to properly say anything, and he made a noise, a clear "huh?" type of confused tone. Phantom stared at Agent G for a moment as he twirled the marker in his hand. He seemed hesitant and unsure.

"Please," Agent G spoke up. Phantom paused. "Just tell us what you know."

Phantom began to jot down on the whiteboard, and Agent G glanced at his companions. Officer Snowden had taken a free seat and was paying close mind. His coworker continued to stare at his phone, occasionally scrolling. He was sure that Agent K was still listening, but how much the man would pick up on the conversation was debatable.

Soon, Phantom turned the board around, and Agent G read it carefully.

It was Walker and his goons. He's basically ghost police. He claimed that me bringing a human world item into the Ghost Zone was illegal, and he arrested me. I escaped, and he began overshadowing people as a ploy to get the town to hate me in hopes that I'd turn myself in if people here hated me.

Agent G wrote down what Phantom said into his notebook, word for word. He was silent as he processed that information. So Phantom was admittedly a wanted criminal in the Ghost Zone? That law didn't sound very just. But yet again, Agent G truly had no idea why that law was even in effect, if it was harmful. And Phantom's statement brought on several questions.

"Why did you escape?" he asked. Phantom studied him for a moment as he turned the board back around. He erased it with his hand before writing. Agent G in turn, studied Phantom. His hands were writing very confidently, no constant erasing and with little pause. He was sure of what he had to say.

The entire sentencing is very unfair. No trial, no defense, nothing. It was just Walker telling me the law, which is bullshit btw, and him sentencing me to 1,000 years.

Holy fuck, that was a long time. Agent G nodded slowly as he, again, wrote down the statement word for word. Then again, ghosts were, sorta, immortal. Time meant nothing to them in that regard.

"What was the item?" Agent G asked. Phantom flipped the board around to write.

It was a wrapped anniversary present for my mom from my dad, a ghost themed checkers game.

That definitely didn't seem worth such a long sentence. Phantom mentioned his parents too, and his parents post his death. This was something Agent G had never read about Phantom doing, mentioning his family or interacting with people like that. Although admittedly, on some level, it was creepy to think about Phantom haunting his old family. But he'd get back to that.

Based on the speed of the responses, Phantom seemed to be telling the truth. But of course, Agent G had no clue how he'd even begin to try and verify this story. He'd figure it out. For now?

"Do you know who all was overshadowed?" he asked. Phantom paused to seemingly think, but only for a moment before his hands moved the marker over the whiteboard.

Some Casper High students, the mayor, several townspeople. Specific people: Mayor Montez, Paulina Sanchez, Dash Baxter, Lancer, Kwan Ishiyama, Star Thunder

Agent G knew almost every single one of those names. He went to high school with many of them briefly. Ugh, verifying these stories would be a trip down cringey memory lane, but he still wrote down the statement, like the others, word for word. He wrote the number two before asking his next question.

"Do you know why the overshadowing ended? Like the incident?"

The look Phantom gave him was so sorrowful. He looked tired and distressed, but he wrote his answer regardless.

He did what he set out to do. Everybody hates me. They want me dissected and gone.

"Oh honey," Ohmer spoke softly. The lawyer reached out to lovingly smooth the ghost's hair, and Phantom smiled at the touch. Agent G nearly forgot that he wasn't alone with Phantom in the room. Officer Snowden was watching on silent as a mouse, and Agent K was still looking at his phone.

Regardless, the answer was jotted down. He wrote the number three, and he glanced up at Phantom. The ghost was waiting for him expectantly.

"Do you know Frederich Isak Showenhower?"Agent G asked. Phantom looked a bit confused, staring at him with a bit of a frown. "He's more commonly known as Freakshow." Recognition lit up in his eyes, and he nodded. "Can you describe your relationship with him?"

He brainwashed me using his scepter.

This was starting to hit unintentional gold. Nobody outside of the GIW and police knew the details of Showenhower's wild story. The media, the public, none of them knew about this crazy brainwashing story. Nobody knew about the scepter being his self-reported means to commit all the crimes, that ghosts were involved. Publicly, the man kept a tight lip on his crime. Very unusual, the criminals normally were very vocal about their side of the story. But not Showenhower. He was silent. Agent G wrote it down.

"Can you elaborate?" he asked. Phantom stared at him blankly. Agent G rephrased, "What do you mean by brainwashed? Can you describe the scepter?"

Phantom's eyes lit up in understanding, and he began to write.

He had this red scepter with a crystal ball. He would hold it up to us, and give us orders. It was hard to fight. There was something to it that just made us obey him. I could break the spell sometimes, but he always knew where to find me. Bring me back. He said the scepter was this family heirloom, and that they used ghosts to entertain people in his circus. But that he found that using us to steal things was much more profitable, since he couldn't be connected to the crime.

Agent G nodded understandingly as he wrote down the answer. So far, this was very interesting. He was giving some confidential details.

"Can you tell me what happened to this scepter?" Agent G questioned. This was the one thing the ex-ringleader refused to tell them. It was information they had been trying to get from him for years now.

It broke.

Agent G hummed curiously. Broken? Wouldn't Showenhower admit that though?

"Do you know where it is?" Agent G asked. Phantom thought for a moment.

Map

Agent G stared at the message before it clicked. Phantom was asking for a map. The rookie jumped from his seat, pulling his phone out. He opened the map application, and he handed it to Phantom.

The ghost zoomed out, and Agent G watched his every move. He shifted to the train tracks, and he followed them. After traveling down the railroad for a bit, scrolling, Phantom stopped at a bridge. He studied it for a moment before making a circle with his finger.

"Around here?" Agent G asked. Phantom nodded, and he picked up his board.

Before the river, over the bridge. It fell somewhere in there.

Agent G nodded. He marked the spot made on his phone's map before tucking it back into his pocket. All of this was fitting into a new puzzle that he was theorizing.

"You mentioned your parents," Agent G began, but paused at the immediate shift in Phantom's entire demeanor. He stiffened and looked at him with that deer in the headlights stare. "What can you tell me about them?"

Unlike before, Phantom didn't make any movements to right anything. He stared at Agent G, his chest heaving a bit as if in a panic. Like a human suspect. This was interesting. Phantom really did mimic humans a lot, as his reports would often detail. Was this a defense mechanism? Possibly, given Phantom's self-reported age.

Agent G waited patiently, and the ghost finally bowed his head to stare at his whiteboard. His hand tapped the marker against his knee nervously.

"You don't have to answer anything you don't want to answer," Officer Snowden finally spoke up. Phantom glanced up at her, before turning to look to Ohmer. The hospital lawyer nodded in agreement.

"Yup. Don't have to answer anything," she confirmed.

Phantom looked a bit more relieved, and he jotted down on the whiteboard.

No comment.

Hm, this was the first question Phantom refused to answer. Was it too personal? Agent G's idea wracked for more theories. Likely to protect family, since he reportedly was interacting with them despite his death. Speaking of.

"Can you tell me when you passed away?" he asked.

Phantom's face scrunched up a bit, obviously hurt. He shook his head no. Agent G hummed lightly as he made that note. Fair enough. That was very personal. He made his final note and flipped through his notes. He had a lot of information to dissect now, and a lot more details to work with and compare and contrast.

"That's all I have for now, but I'll be returning soon," Agent G replied. Phantom stared at him curiously. The agent searched through his pocket to pull out a card. "If you have anything else to tell me, please feel free to call." He paused. "I'm sure a nurse can help you, or your lawyer."

Phantom nodded, turning the card over in his hand. The ghost quickly scribbled on his whiteboard.

No arrest?

"By law, you cannot be released into their custody until you're discharged from the hospital," Ohmer clarified. Agent G nodded to confirm.

"We'll be here to formally read you your charges and rights, the usual come your discharge day," Agent G explained. Phantom looked visibly deflated, but gave a short nod as he slumped over. Ohmer smoothed his hair out.

"Hey, Agent K. We're done here," Agent G announced. The other officer looked startled, standing. Agent G was already out the door, along with Officer Snowden. The officer said her goodbyes and was already walking away.

"Wait, already?" Agent K demanded to know as he followed the two out. Agent G was still re-reading his notes as he jotted down more extras before he forgot the details as he waited for his partner to catch up. The rookie shrugged.

"We'll be back," Agent G assured him. "But right now, I have some other folks that I want to talk to. Try to collaborate Phantom's claims." Agent K studied him curiously. "And question him based on that, see what kind of lies we can catch him in and what evidence we can truly confront him with."

"Sounds like a giant waste of time, doing all this back and forth," Agent K complained. Agent G shrugged.

"Then you can wait in the car," he offered, ignoring Agent K's frown. Agent G re-read the list of names Phantom gave him. "But right now, I have a few people I'd like to talk to." Agent K gave a begrudging sigh.

"Fine, let's go whatever you're going to go," Agent K finally agreed. "Long as you're writing the report."

Agent G grinned. Finally, a chance to get some real answers.

[elizagailofhousestark-blog]

A complete theory on the history and intentions of the lake entity in It Lives Beneath

(This information has been updated as of Chapter 10. The first part of this theory involves the history of The Power and the Cult in Westchester)

TL;DR: The ghost in the lake is MC’s grandmother

Beginnings of Pine Springs

In the year 1970, the AMC Gremlin car was produced and popularized. This was the vehicle which the journal author drove upon moving to a cabin in the woods near the river, which we can safely assume to be located in present-day Pine Springs. At that time, The Power was a “curious and playful” entity that encompassed the woods and waters in the neighboring towns of Westchester and Pine Springs. Within months after arrival, the journal author unintentionally established a connection with The Power, was compelled towards the house ruins in Westchester, saw Redfield, and met Cora.

Also in 1970, exactly fifty years prior to the Lake Day celebration in ILB, the town of Pine Springs was founded. According to Astrid, The Society– which is a cult that claims to be protectors of The Power in Pine Springs– was formed shortly after. Meanwhile, a development company attempted to buy the land which the journal author occupied. The author refused, and made a decision to protect The Power absolutely.

Eventually, the development company succeeded. Pine Springs became urbanized. A dam was built for water storage, irrigation, power generation, flood control, and other industrial uses. The flow of the river near the journal author’s home was restricted to create the dam– also known as a reservoir or an artificial lake. Later on, the water level in the lake was drained to make way for more mansions in the Lakefront Neighborhood.

Negative environmental impacts of dams

Now to make it clear, dams are highly beneficial to human civilizations. Dams do not pollute the water or air, and they are efficient substitutes to the more destructive fossil fuel consumption. However, constructing dams can also harm nature in numerous ways.

Dams take up a huge area of land for them to work. Entire forests need to be cut down.

The rivers which provide the water source for the dams need to have their flows obstructed, or reversed on opposite ends of the dam. Hydroelectric power plants also change the temperature of the water. These changes may disrupt the balance of ecological systems in the river and the surrounding land.

Migratory fish species are affected. In the Columbia River along the border of Oregon, salmon must swim upstream to their spawning grounds to reproduce but the series of dams gets in their way. Fish and other organisms can also be injured or killed by the turbine blades.

Due to sedimentation, reservoirs will have higher amounts of nutrients which cultivate an excess of algae and other weeds. These weeds consume large amounts of oxygen as they decompose, creating oxygen-starved dead zones incapable of supporting river life of any kind.

If too much water is stored in dams, downstream rivers can dry up.

Methane and carbon dioxide, strong greenhouse gasses, may also form in some reservoirs and be emitted to the atmosphere.

The town founders and the first members of The Society

At this point, it is clear why The Power would have been against the dam’s construction. However, Astrid, who is the current leader of The Society that claims to be protectors of The Power, is also a real estate company owner. Her husband Vincent, another cultist, is a corporate lawyer– a profession that protects capitalism and industrialization. In Chapter 10, Chief Kelley, also a cultist, confirmed that the town founders were the ones who dammed the river and cut down the forests. He also mentions that they would have been proud of him now for his services to the town.

Therefore, it is my theory that the cultists today are heirs of the town founders, who were also the first members of The Society. Those same people exploited The Power against its own interest of preserving nature. They harnessed power to gain wealth and influence, and to put themselves on top of the economic pyramid.

What happened to the first cultists?

Chief Kelley angrily asserted that the founders had to make a huge sacrifice for the town. What could have been this sacrifice?

In ILITW, the MC discovers that there were “two mass murders in Westchester, in the same woods, within 100 years of one another.” The first one happened on October 31, 1871. The fourteen members of The Arcane Society of Westchester communed to perform a ritual but Redfield attempted to hog The Power for himself, got consumed, and was turned into the monster in the woods. The second instance happened on August 22, 1976.

It is highly probable that the victims of that incident were the cultists/ town founders. As of writing, we have no way of confirming if it was indeed a massacre or a mass suicide– if they were murdered by The Power or if they sacrificed themselves. However, we do know two other instances of group deaths. One was in 1871 when Redfield became the monster. The ritual went wrong when Redfield hogged The Power. The cultists were massacred, then Cora and the few other survivors worked to bind Redfield later on. The second was in September of 2017 if you did not gain enough nerve points for your friends in ILITW. In that instance, Jane murdered the “cult members” in order to free herself. Both of those massacres resulted in someone becoming a new monster who is fused with The Power.

I theorize that the author of the journal, after getting the idea from Cora’s story about Redfield, desperately resorted to joining The Society. She also attempted to hog The Power for herself so she can stop her fellow cultists from using it for the wrong reasons. In the process, she became the ghost entity in the lake. But who is she?

The identity of the ghost in the lake

At first, we are led to believe that the journal author is male, because he was able to fix the house all by himself. Some popular theories claim that Grandpa Arthur is the journal author after all and the house he lives in is the same cabin in the woods. But if this is the case, then why would the journal entries present themselves to MC in the form of ghostly bottles? If Grandpa intended for MC to know about his history, he could have just told MC directly. Furthermore, Grandpa mentioned that he has been paying mortgage in the last 30 years, but the journal author owned the cabin and had no landlord.

Another hint that the journal author could have been female is when she wrote: “That development group has found a cunning new tactic: they sent a handsome man in a little bowtie to knock on my door. He had a nice smile and he was quick with the witty chit-chat.” (Of course, this could also be an evidence to the author being a male homosexual, but how could the development company have known that?)

If you pay close attention, you will notice that there are many significant parallels in the plot and timeframe of the events in ILITW and the ones in ILB. Because of this pattern, it would make sense that the journal author ended up becoming the female lake entity, just as Redfield– the letter writer– ended up becoming the monster in the woods.

Finally, the most compelling evidence I have that the journal author is the same person as the female lake entity is this: Noah/ILITW MC (the monster) knew that the way to communicate with the lake entity is written in a book found in Cora’s house. Since Cora is also a cultist who met the journal author, she would have known how to talk her.

Having established that, I will now leap into my theory that the lake entity is MC’s grandmother. (By the way, the ghost can’t possibly be MC’s mom because she died only 2 weeks before MC came to Pine Springs and her body can’t possibly be reduced to bones already. Plus MC and Elliot obviously would have buried their parents.)

The following are the evidences for my claim:

The lake entity had been drowning people in the lake for 20 years [acc. to Ned], and yet in Chapter 9, she somehow recognized MC who has only been in Pine Springs for a week. The only possible explanation for this recognition is if they share the same blood, or if the ghost can see a resemblance of her own daughter (MC’s mom) in MC.

It is the only plausible explanation of why Grandpa would choose to be associated to the cult. Perhaps he is looking for a way to free his wife or avenge her by infiltrating the cult. Note that he is the only one among them who is poor. As to his speech that he wanted to harness The Power to live longer, it seems hard to believe that an old man who has no family or riches would want to live longer in this world.

It has been repeatedly emphasized that the lake entity is angry about something that had hurt her. The ghost of the grandmother behaves similarly to MC and Elliot in this way:

MC is at least 18 years old because he/she is of legal age and is in college. When MC was seven years old, his/her biological father left his/her mom who ended up with Todd and gave birth to Elliot. Therefore, MC is at least seven years older than Elliot and Elliot is a pubescent teenager who is likely between ages 13-16. This puts MC’s age closer to 20 years or above. Now remember MC mentioned that they never met Grandpa Arthur. This means that their mom left Pine Springs at least 20 years ago. Perhaps she left Pine Springs to protect her unborn baby from the danger of knowing about the cult.

Now, I have no evidence for this, but I also think that a cult member needs an heir to pass his/her rank onto (or maybe to sacrifice later on). Astrid and Vincent Wescott have Imogen. Richard Sutcliffe has Robbie. Grandpa had MC’s mom. Perhaps Chief Kelley adopted Parker so he can be his heir. If this is true, it can explain why MC’s mom left Pine Springs: because she did not want her child to eventually be associated with the cult.

So why did the cult kill MC’s mother? Why did they save MC and Elliot from the lake entity? If the lake entity is their grandmother, why did she attempt to drown MC and Elliot?

Why the lake entity is drowning people

The ghost in the lake has been drowning people by luring them towards the water. According to Ned, his wife was the third victim that year, Kyle was the second this month, and it has been happening more frequently of late.

“The Power’s true strength comes from its connection with its followers. [Cora]” The more cult members there are and the more frequently they interact with The Power, the stronger both parties get. By trapping Dan in the clearing, Jane lured the ILITW gang into the woods so she can establish a connection with them and become stronger. When Goddard asked a member of The Arcane Society of Westchester if he could join them, the member was delighted and immediately agreed. Similarly, the cult in Pine Springs has been benefiting from recruiting more members, which is exactly how a pyramid scheme works.

In ILITW, a doctor took note of the pattern of an epidemic in Westchester which is characterized by an influx of coma patients, closely followed by the death of one or more people, and then a period of quiet. Cora revealed that when The Power grows too strong just as Jane did, it tends to feed on the life force of human beings who could fall into a coma or eventually die.

Perhaps The Power needs to feed on more people just as the The Society recruits more members. However, It does not make sense why the cult would want to put the ghost to rest because then, it would sever their connection and consequentially, their powers too.

What the ghost in the lake wants

It could be merely coincidental, but the drownings began 20 years ago, at the same time that MC’s mom left Pine Springs. This is a bold leap of intuition, but I think that the key to putting the soul of the grandmother to rest lies in her own blood or DNA. (Grandpa Arthur said this kind of power requires blood and sacrifice, and Imogen had to offer a drop of blood during the initiation.)

The only three people with whom the lake entity shares her blood are MC, Elliot, and their mother. When Vincent drove MC and Elliot home, he made sure to check if they have any other relatives, and MC confirmed that they do not.

Perhaps the cultists who betrayed the rest of The Society killed MC’s mom so that her blood could no longer be used to put the ghost to rest.

I do not have an explanation as to why Astrid saved MC and Elliot from the ghost and what the cult intends to do with them, but it is worth noting that the ghost tried to get her hands on MC five separate times, and on Elliot two separate times. Perhaps she recognizes them as her kin and perhaps she understands that their blood is the key to freeing her soul. Nevertheless, I strongly believe that she hasn’t killed Elliot yet.

Finally, we know that the lake entity and the cultists hate each other because of the massacre that happened in 1976, and when she repeatedly says “Kill them all”, she could be telling MC to kill all the cultists.

As the story progresses, we will see which cultists have good and bad intentions.

(Further theory: Proof that Vincent and Kelley are lying)

[pantrybail1-blog]

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[rainbow-hatted1]

What Boredom looks like

1. You just opened up a web browser. What is the first site you visit?

https://www.reddit.com/r/interestingasfuck/

Yeah, that’s sort of my jam. Reddit in general but that is my go to.

vv more below if you wanna deep dive. vv

2. You just walked into a bookstore. What section do you go to first?

The local published section. If it’s a good bookshop they usually have one. Usually it’s poetry, or short essay compilations or local history books but I tend to like the offerings and you’re supporting people who don’t have a big platform yet.

Otherwise, comics and fantasy are my next first stops.

3. You are hanging with your closest friends. What are you most likely doing?

Lately, not much of anything. Arguing… not talking… depressing things.

Ideally, though, there’s a good meal. Either we’ve cobbled it together on our own or it’s a decent take out option and video/board games. Quidditch if it’s a nice day. Basically, where we can sit and bullshit and laugh a lot. That’s the best time with my mates.

4. You just turned your car on. What station is the radio tuned to?

The independent/alt/rock station. In spite making pop music myself I don’t listen to it a lot. Which is probably weird.

5. You have just woken up for the morning. What is the first things you do?

Try to go back to sleep.

6. Complete this phrase: You cannot buy happiness, but you can buy____.

Tacos

7. What would you do if you woke up as the opposite gender?

Probably touch my boobs entirely too much. Liz calls them boob checks… well, if they’re quick and random, this would probably be fondling.  I am ashamed of this answer but it’s likely what I’d do.

8. Are you more likely to cook for yourself or buy food from a restaurant?

I’m prone to laziness but I actually find cooking relaxing so cook for myself. Saves money too. It’s just a good practice to have in general.

9. If you had to lose one of your senses, which one would you rather lose?

Smell, probably. I enjoy food too much to lose taste. And between sight and hearing, I’d miss not having those senses and touch is just kind of important as a human being.  

10. If you could relive any one year of your life, how old would you be?

Dunno

11. Would you take a bullet for anyone you know?

A few someones

12. Would you rather be rich and dumb or poor and extremely intelligent?

Poor and intelligent. Better chances of bettering my situation with that one.

13. What TV character do you most relate to?

Sam Gardner from Atypical.

14. You just walked into a supermarket. What section do you first go to?

Produce. Yeah, you all thought I’d go for the bakery and desserts. Don’t lie.

15. Is sex before marriage wrong?

No. It’s human. So is waiting. It shouldn’t be as polarizing as it is. Sex is part of life and how you want to experience it is entirely up to you.

16. You just won the lottery. What is the first thing you do with your winnings?

Get a lawyer and not tell anyone I won. People get shitty when you have a lot of money. They expect you to make it rain and I wouldn’t. I’d also take the weekly installments. More money overall and you are far less likely to tank yourself with the winnings. Just saying.

17. If your best friend admitted that they have a crush on you, how would you react?

I would be awkward as fuck. Love him, not like that and he has a girlfriend so yeah… it’d be fucked up.

18. Will the USA ever have a female president?

At this point in time: no. Again, this is a polarizing question that shouldn’t be. A woman could run the country I’m not women in charge by that answer. Don’t read into it. I’m merely saying, that with the way the country appears to be currently they will not vote for that. I’m sorry. It’s stupid.

19. You are carpooling with your friends. Are you more likely to be the driver or a passenger?

Passenger. I don’t drive.

20. How short is too short for skirts and dresses?

I’m not ancient or wearing a skirt so I don’t think it matters, but I tend to prefer more modest options on girls.

21. If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, without any consequences, what food would you choose?

Pizza.

22. It’s Saturday night. What are you most likely doing?

Sleeping.

23. You go on a blind date. Your date is extremely beautiful and physically captivating, but you hate their personality. Would you want a second date?

No.

24. How strict should gun laws be?

I think Australia had the right reaction to a massacre

25. Would you rather be the worst player on the best team or the best player on the worst team?

Best player on the worst team. Hopefully, they wouldn’t resent me and we could have a good 90’s style underdog story.

26. How well do you work with others?

Not well.

27. You have the ability to cure only one fatal disease and eradicate it forever. What disease do you choose?

I don’t want that power. Either way people are gonna die and wonder why I couldn’t cure all cancer or something else that’s just as bad…and inevitably another disease will surface that’s worse. There will always be disease even if we don’t like it.

28. If you could go back to college and choose a different degree to study, would you?

Well, considering I’m not in college yet I can still change my mind on that one, but I probably wouldn’t. Care of Magical Creatures but I haven’t zoned in on the specific avenue I want to go in that field yet.

29. Where do you see yourself ten years from now?

Er… traveling the countryside looking for magical creatures and documenting them in the wild. It’d be cool if my friends joined once in a while.

30. Are you pro-life or pro-choice?

Pro-choice isn’t anti-life, for fucks sake people.

31. Would you attend a same sex wedding if invited?

Yeah. If my mates fell in love and get married, I’m gonna be at the party regardless of sexes involved.

32. So far, what has been the greatest day of your life?

The first time HM played to a sold out crowd. That was pretty shocking. We’ve done it since and Nik has carried on doing it on his own but that day was scary and humbling and epic.

33. Has anyone you know ever been arrested?

Yeah, wrongly so but they saw what they wanted and went that’s our guy. Luckily, he didn’t get sent away for good.

34. If it could be one season year-round, what season do would you want it to be?

Fall. But like warm fall not close to winter fall. That fall sucks.

35. What is your biggest regret in life?

Saying such shit things about Anna and Charlie’s mum because I was mad at him. We’ve never recovered from it and it was a stupid in the moment blind rage bullshit thing I can’t ever take back.

36. If you could bring one celebrity back from the dead, who would it be?

John Lennon, probably. But the thing is, not everyone is upset their deaths were untimely. That’s more the livings problem than the dead, I’ve come to learn.

37. What offends you the most?

When people assume how I’m feeling. I’m not exactly easy to read, I know that, and I have a hard time wrapping my own head around my thoughts and feelings. So when I am feeling something and someone says I’m feeling another way because my face doesn’t wash with an emotion or my reaction doesn’t match like it allegedly should it’s really upsetting to me and just makes things worse.

38. Would you rather have an ugly hairstyle or be bald?

Do what you want. It’s just hair

39. At what age did you have your first alcoholic beverage?

16. Yeah, I think that’s right.

40. What do you think happens to us when we die?

Ideally, you move on to another plane. Kind of like a multiverse but one for endings. For a bit you can linger between the here as we know it and there but eventually you either stay and become a ghost or a poltergeist (which depends solely on your continued mental state on the matter of your death) but most move on beyond the veil.

41. What do you think is the best way to quit smoking?

I don’t know.

42. If you could take home any one animal from the zoo, which animal would you choose?

A bear of some sort. Polar, Grizzly, Black…. Whatever they’ve got. Not all zoos have the same bears.

43. Were humans created or did we evolve from earlier species?

I’m gonna go out and say something that pisses people off but I don’t see why it can’t be both. Something came out of nothing which is creating, right? The act of creating something is taking elements and making them something or straight up creating an element. What did that, I don’t know. But at one point there was a creation moment. From there everything on this planet has changed and adapted to the situations and surroundings they came into. Life is change, you don’t change you can’t survive. So both. Both sound right to me.

44. What scares you the most?

Losing everyone I care about… and bugs. Fuck bugs

45. What personality trait turns you off the most?

I hate when people play dumb.

46. You got offered a job to do something you hate, but the pay will make you rich. Do you take it?

No.

47. If today you only had what you were thankful for yesterday, how much would you have?

Sadly, not very much probably.

48. How often do you get mad or upset at yourself?

Everyday.

49. If you could choose one celebrity to be your parent, who would you choose?

I’ll keep my parents, thanks but to answer the question: Reign. At least I’d still have family.

50. If you could only listen to one musical artist for the rest of you life, who would you be listening to?

I would probably choose not to listen to music after a bit. I like variety and I’m not always in the mood for an artist of one flavor but the Beatles? At least their breadth of music is pretty wide.

51. Have you ever used you cell phone while driving?

No

52. Has anyone you were close to die way too young?

Yes.

53. Is world peace possible?

No, I don’t believe it is. It’d be great if it could be. There’s no reason for all this hate but people are always going to clash. We get on for a bit and then boom, it’s done. Peace is an impossibility but we should still strive for it regardless.

54. You go on a blind date. You date is extremely ugly and physically appalling, but you are madly in love with their personality. Would you want a second date?

I don’t know. I want to say yes, be that guy who doesn’t care. Looks really are not everything but ultimately, you should be attracted to your partner. If you aren’t it isn’t likely to work even if their personality is the most beautiful thing in the world.

55. How did you discover that Santa Claus isn’t real?

My little brother told me and I was devastated.

56. Do you believe in God, or some form of higher deity?

I honestly want to but I have a hard time wrapping my mind around how things can be the way they are if a loving god is out there watching us. I think the Futurama episode where Bender gets life on his ass is a great example of how my brain wants to look at it.

And then I read the Bible and get to stories like Zechariah and I’m just left thinking that guy probably had a stroke while praying and the rest is a coincidence.

57. If you could save someone you deeply cared about, but it meant breaking a law, would you do it?

Fuck yes. Without hesitation

58. What is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done for money?

Sold my soul for a sickle once.

59. If you were to make a YouTube video about what you know most about, what would the subject be?

Magical Creatures. I could go on for a very long time about that topic.

60. What do you think is your greatest personality flaw?

I’m rigid. I have a hard time shifting directions when I get going.

61. If your friends spoke to you the way you speak to yourself, would you still want them as friend?

I haven’t got many actual friends so maybe. Better than being alone, I suppose.

62. Have you ever “woke up like this”?

No one has ever “woke up like this”. It’s a lie. It’s always a lie. Even if they look good, that caption shows intent and planning: don’t fall for it.

63. You got offered a job to do something you love, but the pay is one of the worst out there. Do you take it?

If I really fucking love it, yes. But I’m also in a position where I can have a shit paying or no paying job and basically be fine.

64. What do you think is your best physical feature?

My lips?

65. What do you think is your worst physical feature.

My nose is big.

66. Do you know anyone who has committed suicide?

Not suicide no. But I know people who have considered it. Glad they didn’t follow through.

67. What is the nicest thing you’ve ever done for someone you don’t know?

I dunno. I have a habit of giving my bus ticket away if it still has time on it. I know it’s not much but as for random acts of kindness that weren’t really put on display for charities or a fluff news story, that’s the one I’ve got.

68. Have you ever had a night’s dream come true?

No, can’t say that I have.

69. Would you reject a date offer from someone you didn’t like?

yes

70. Which do you think is worse: Failure, or never trying at all?

This is one of those what I say is not really what I do things. I think the second is worse but I often freeze when it comes to choices like this. When I’m by myself: I freeze.

[birdiethebibliophile]

{fic} This Is My Kingdom Come

Fandom:  The Adventure Zone:  Commitment Rating:  M Warnings:  Descriptions of past psychological trauma and dissociative-like state, implied suicidal ideation (more to do with outside perception) Word Count:  1,897

Here on AO3.

Tagging @someone-called-f1nch, @voidfishkid, @mellowstarscape, and @jumpboy-rembrandt, and thanks to @aubreylikesgirls​ for yelling at me about the end of TOSF yesterday and inspiring this!

The first of my promised post-TOSF one-shots. Sorry for starting with such a heavy one. If you haven’t read it, go read That Old Sweet Feeling before this - it won’t make much sense otherwise!

Title from Demons by Imagine Dragons, the last song on my TOSF playlist.

Summary:   A week after she comes home from the hospital, Nadiya finds Remy doing a little too much thinking.

__________________

“Hey… Remy. What’re you doing up here?”

Remy tossed a pebble off the roof towards the silent street below, swinging his legs against the side of the building. “Thinking.”

“Not your usual pastime.”

Nadiya had been out of the hospital for about a week. Between her mom flying in for a few days and Mary Sage’s constant meetings with her lawyer and Grace and Jonesy shepherding different ex-members of the Fellowship in and out of the place like it had a revolving door, it had all felt like a bundle of chaos, one of the results being that Nadiya hadn’t had an actual conversation with Remy since the night he’d almost killed her.

“Yeah. Well.” Remy shrugged, chucking another bit of gravel off the roof. “Got a lot to think about, I guess.”

“We could… talk about it? If you wanted,” Nadiya said, pulling her sweater closer around her and crossing her arms over her chest. San Francisco was foggy and chill at night, and she didn’t like it. Mary had visited a thrift store the day before and brought her back three cardigans, promptly stealing back two of them. Nadiya had been wearing the third ever since. “You could get off the edge of the roof. I could make coffee.”

“I’m okay, Nad,” Remy said. “For real. I don’t take fall damage. ‘M like Spider-Man.”

“Not really what I meant,” Nadiya said.

Remy’s head dipped, and even in the darkness, Nadiya could see his hands clench on the edge of the roof. “I – I dunno.”

“C’mon,” Nadiya said. “This is the first day the doc said I could have caffeine again.”

Remy gave a long, quiet sigh. “Okay,” he said, and swung his legs back onto the roof, hopping down from the ledge. “It won’t keep you up?”

“It won’t keep you  up?” Nadiya countered.

“Nah,” Remy said. “Sometimes helps, actually.”

“Well, I’ve been sleeping a ton lately, and a cup of coffee only lasts about an hour for me, so I’m good,” Nadiya said.

A ghost of a smile flickered across Remy’s face. “How much coffee did you have when you were in grad school? Per day, rough estimate.”

“Five cups? It was pretty shitty stuff, though. Low caffeine. Sometimes instant.”

Remy followed Nadiya back into the building and down the stairs to the penthouse. Grace had flown to Las Vegas earlier that day to deal with the whole almost-an-entire-building-being-destroyed issue on Nadiya’s old campus. Jonesy had gone to bed around eleven, lab goggles still on her head. Mary Sage had curled up an hour earlier, and Irene had been asleep at nine-thirty, for some godforsaken reason (“a steady sleep schedule is important for mental and physical health, Nadiya,” she’d reprimanded when Nadiya scoffed). The apartment was quiet as Nadiya padded across the kitchen to the coffeemaker, measured out the grounds into a filter, filled the water tank. The soft sputtering of the machine started to fill the space, along with the familiar, comforting smell of freshly-brewed coffee.

“So,” Nadiya said, pulling up one of the mismatched chairs to the table. Remy forewent the chair entirely and sat on the table itself. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

Remy jolted, looking up at her from under the hood of his sweatshirt. “No, I haven’t!”

“Liar,” Nadiya said, but not unpleasantly. “I got back from the hospital a week ago and you haven’t said a word to me.”

He blanched as much as his complexion allowed him to – for Remy, this mostly meant his eyes widened so Nadiya could see the white all the way around the dark brown iris. “Oh, God, Nad, I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked how you were doing, I –”

“No, idiot, that’s not what I meant,” Nadiya said, exasperated. “I’m fine. I’m good.  But it doesn’t seem like you are.”

“How are you good? I almost killed you!” Remy said, his voice growing higher even as it stayed quiet so as not to wake anyone else. “I – I fucking impaled  you on your own arm, your heart stopped beating, you were d-dead –”

Nadiya realized quite suddenly that Remy was crying. It was like her brain had rewritten every moment around when he’d started, because she wasn’t sure when he’d gone from not crying to crying, but he certainly was now, one hoodie sleeve pressed to his face, tears flowing thick and fast down his cheeks, shoulders shaking. “You were d-dead,” he repeats, “and I killed  you, and I fucking kill everything I touch.”

“What? No, you don’t,” Nadiya said. She gave up on the chair and climbed up onto the table with him. “Remy. Remy! Hey, I’m here, I’m alive, I’m okay. We’re all okay.”

“Not my parents,” Remy whispered, and his breathing sounded painful, sobs wrenched from his throat between words. “They’re dead, a-and my brother’s gym is never going to make any money, and Xander would be better off without me in his life, and –”

Nadiya steeled herself, then wrapped her arms around Remy’s shoulders in the tightest hug she could manage.

Immediately, Remy’s arms went around her chest and clutched the back of her sweater like a lifeline. His head dropped onto her shoulder. She could barely hear the muffled words: I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

Nadiya held him there, side by side, wrapped around each other, for longer than she could remember holding anyone, including Mary Sage. She felt the shoulder of her sweater growing progressively damper. She found she didn’t care.

Eventually, the coffeemaker stopped its soft sputtering, and the helpless shaking of Remy’s shoulders died down to a tremble, his arms dropping from around her. Nadiya hopped down from the table and filled two mugs, putting sugar in hers and pressing the other into Remy’s hands. He wrapped his fingers around it and took a sip, letting out a shaky sigh. “Sorry,” he said again. His voice was still raspy with tears.

“It’s okay,” Nadiya said, getting back onto the table with her own mug. “Um. I want to say something real, for like a second, but you have to pay close attention because I’m not saying it again, okay?” She stared down into her coffee. “You’re… you’re not just a good guy, Remy. You’re a good friend, and you can relate to other people better than any of us except for maybe Irene. You’re wicked smart, and brave as hell, even if that sometimes verges into some pretty dumbass shit. We –” She stopped and corrected herself. “I couldn’t have gotten through all this without you. I don’t blame you for anything that happened. It was all Martine. And as for the whole anyone  would be better off without you part…”

She looked up, and it was so easy to meet Remy’s eyes. It was always easy with him in a way that wasn’t easy with most people. “It fucking sucked, thinking you were dead,” she said quietly. “And that’s not me trying to blame you for getting caught. Again, that’s on Martine, and she’s going to rot in prison, good riddance. But it was like a piece of us was missing. And I can’t imagine that’s not the way your brother and his kid feel. Okay? There’s no way they’re better off without you than with you.”

“But I lost American Ninja Warrior,” Remy said, and then abruptly laughed shakily, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “I guess when I say it like that and we just stopped somebody from taking over the world it’s not as big of a deal.”

“Who cares if you messed up on TV one time?” Nadiya said. “You saved the world on TV last week. You saved my life, too. By the way. I don’t… I’m still not sure what happened with that.” Nadiya shifted, and to cover her discomfort, took a sip of her coffee. Those moments were still jumbled in her head, a chaos of pain and a floating, disconnected sensation in a sea of white and a tugging in her chest. “I don’t think that would’ve happened without you. Fuck, without you, I feel like Mary Sage wouldn’t have stuck around past around day one, so I gotta thank you for that. Thanks to you I have a girlfriend, I guess.” She nudged him with her elbow.

“Can’t believe I missed that, by the way,” Remy said. “She, uh… she told me she liked you way back when we were kidnapped in Nevada.”

“Took me a little longer to figure it out,” Nadiya admitted. “Not much longer, but a bit. I’m still waiting on the teasing.”

Remy gave another watery laugh and lifted his mug to his lips with shaky hands. “I’ll work on it.”

“Anyway. I just… I might have almost died, but you got fucking brainwashed or whatever.”

“It wasn’t a big –”

“Hey.” Nadiya cut him off. “You weren’t there. Well, you know, kind of. You didn’t see yourself. It was like  you were dead. Like… there was nothing behind your eyes. It was scary as fuck to see, so I don’t know how it must’ve felt. And you haven’t said a word about it.”

“It felt like… nothing,” he said after a long moment. “I can remember it. Which I dunno whether that’s better or worse. But it was like I didn’t have a body? Or maybe I didn’t have a mind. Like I was just a little to the left of everything, so I couldn’t use my brain to think and I couldn’t control what I was doing, and I couldn’t feel anything… and then when you – when you got hurt and fell and – it felt like something wrapped around me and yanked me back into my body. And then it all sort of hit at once, all the memories of –” He shivered. “I don’t remember what they did to me. Just Sylvane knocking me out, and then being brought to the gala and all the shit that went down there, and staying with Martine, and doing whatever she said. Her voice felt like – like a leash? It was just dragging me wherever she wanted me to go, whatever she wanted me to do, and I couldn’t help it. I could see myself hurting you, and I couldn’t stop. And then it just all hit me at once, and I was back and I thought you were dead, and – God.” He ran his hand over his face, then through his hair, knocking his hood back. “It was fucked up, Nad, I think it was pretty fucked up.”

“It sounds fucked up,” Nadiya agreed. “Drink your coffee.”

Remy drank his coffee. “It just didn’t feel okay to say anything about it when you had a literal hole in your chest.”

“Well, it’s closing up now.” Nadiya tapped lightly at the bandages on her midsection. “All good here. So it’s okay now. Yeah?”

Remy let out a long sigh that started out shaky and got deep until it sounded like it was drawing every bit of air from his chest so he could replace it all. “Yeah. Thanks, Nad.” He tipped his mug up and drained the last of his coffee. “I think I should probably get some sleep. You should, too. You’re still healing.”

“We both are,” Nadiya said as Remy climbed off the table. “Night, Remy.”

He smiled, and it almost looked like him. “Night, Nadiya.”

[altrecordreviews]

“In retrospect, I should have had the absinthe…” Eleanor Goodman Talks The Reality of Metal Journalism

Photo via Twitter

Print journalism isn’t what it was - just take one look at NME. However, there are still plenty of music journalists who still strongly believe in the power of print, and no one knows this quite like Metal Hammer’s deputy editor Eleanor Goodman. Here’s what she has to say on how to deal with the ins and outs of journalism and why lawyers are always good to have around just in case you need to write about bestiality.

How did you get into music journalism?

I was studying for a degree in English Literature at Sheffield University when I won a Metal Hammer music journalism competition for my live review of a masked Australian grindcore band called The Berserker. As a nu metal fan, I wasn’t familiar with them, but I was desperate to write for the magazine! The gig certainly opened my eyes to metal’s depths. At a careers event soon after, I met Lianne Steinberg, who was an editor at The Manchester Evening News’ entertainment magazine, City Life. She was encouraging and gave me paid work writing music previews and reviews. I also wrote for local Sheffield magazine Sandman, BBC South Yorkshire online, the university newspaper and a bunch of music webzines. After my degree, I moved to London for a postgrad diploma in magazine journalism at City University. I got a permanent job working on business magazines while freelancing for Rock Sound, and then worked full-time for Bizarre, Kerrang! and Metal Hammer, where I’m currently deputy editor. I commission the features section and curate the monthly covermount CD.

When you first started, how did you avoid getting star-struck when interviewing your favourite bands?

Rather than being star-struck, I struggled with insecurity at first, as I felt much younger than the people I was interviewing, not to mention the other PRs and music industry folk, who seemed like an impenetrable clique. But I found people were generally friendly and happy to chat about themselves. I was nervous the first time I interviewed Marilyn Manson, because I’d always liked his music and heard he could be difficult. I turned down his offer of absinthe in case I got drunk and messed up the interview, but he turned out to be on form and quick-witted. In retrospect, I should have had the absinthe.

Did you receive much guidance when you first started writing for bigger publications? Do you think it would have been beneficial in retrospect?

I got guidance on my writing during my postgraduate course, which was beneficial – I can still hear my tutors’ voices in my head to this day – though I only really learned through practice. At Bizarre magazine I started as Chief Sub Editor, and had a great editor called David McComb, who taught me a lot about magazine craft. Alongside managing the workflow of the magazine, I ended up editing the features, books and music sections. By working in teams and across different brands, I learned a lot about tone and audience, which had a positive impact on my writing.

What’s the most frustrating part of your job?

Working within constraints. There are always constraints such as getting access to bands, working within budgets and completing pieces to deadlines. Nothing’s ever certain in magazines, either – you could plan a perfect feature, but it could fall apart due to any of the above, or unforeseen circumstances, so you have to be able to change and adapt plans during the course of each issue. Having said that, constraints can force you to innovate and to really narrow down your focus, so they’re not always bad.

What’s the most rewarding?

Seeing an idea come together. Reading a great interview, accompanied by brilliant photos, and looking at how they work together on the design of the pages. It’s always a team effort that involves multiple people behind the scenes as well as in front. It’s also awesome when readers message or comment positively about our content. We’ve had good feedback on our features tackling serious issues such as depression in the music industry, as well as a lot of excitement and insane memes off the back of our recent Ghost cover shoot, which featured the singer of the Swedish band holding the severed head of the ‘old’ one. They have a dedicated fanbase, so it means a lot that we’ve struck a chord. The Metal Hammer Golden Gods is always a great night, too - we honour the biggest names in our world, and it’s surreal to see everyone chatting backstage.

What has been the main problem you’ve come across working for a print magazine?

The decline of print media and the rise of celebrity online. When I started working in print magazines in the early 2000s, the decline in readership had already begun, but mainstream outlets weren’t taking online journalism seriously enough. That lack of early investment has made it more difficult for big brands to catch up, and everyone is still figuring out how to make money online. People have become accustomed to getting content for free, and the sheer number of outlets means there’s a lot of ‘noise’ around artists – especially tours and releases – even if there’s not necessarily a substantial amount of content. Some artists also promote themselves on social media. This means there’s a danger readers will tire of hearing about certain artists before they’ve picked up the magazine. Part of the solution comes back to innovation – what can we do that competitors can’t? And curation – how can we sift through the noise and bring the best in metal to our readers? Our recent covers are good examples of this. Ahead of Judas Priest releasing Firepower, we brought singer Rob Halford together with Tony Iommi for an exclusive photoshoot and chat. Before the Metal Hammer-sponsored Trivium tour in April, we ran a cover featuring them and tour mates Code Orange, Power Trip and Venom Prison – all newer bands we’re keen to give a platform to.

Are journalism ethics and law just as important in music journalism as they are within “regular” journalism?

Absolutely. Music journalism is regular journalism. You’re often talking to people about their personal lives and influences, and sometimes covering wide-ranging social, cultural and political issues, so you have an ethical responsibility to be honest, fair and accurate. The same goes for law – and on a purely commercial level, getting sued can be disastrous for a publication.

Have you/a publication you’ve written for ever encountered any of these issues first hand?

The weirdest scenario was when I was Production Editor at Bizarre magazine, and we ran a feature about a woman in Portugal who had sex with dogs for adult films. Bestiality is illegal in the UK, so I worked with a lawyer to make sure the copy was ‘safe’ and didn’t include any instructions about how to do it, or any names of the people we talked to, so readers theoretically couldn’t track down the material. When the issue came out, the makers of the movies threatened us because we didn’t include their names; they were angry they hadn’t got as much publicity as they’d hoped. We didn’t see that coming! Most magazines I’ve worked for have had access to a lawyer, which means I’ve been able to run any difficult queries or quotes by them. Music-wise, Kerrang! had an incident in 2007, before I joined, where they had to pay £40,000 libel damages over a claim a tour manager pleasured himself in a dressing room. He argued that it lowered his reputation and harmed his chances of getting work.

As a deputy editor, do you have any specific rules or requirements that you ask of your writers?

We’re looking for experience, enthusiasm, creativity, an understanding of metal and Metal Hammer’s audience, and an ability to work to a brief and hit deadlines. Obviously, music is a sociable industry with a lot of late nights, but we also expect people to be professional when representing the brand.

What advice would you give to aspiring music journalists and editors?

Get as much experience as possible, always say yes to opportunities, and ask lots of questions. The more you read, write and edit, the better you’ll become. And don’t be afraid to go out of your comfort zone and cover new and unfamiliar things – you never know where it might lead you.

Follow Eleanor on Twitter @eleanorgoodman  

[renegadesrpg]

Family Matters Part 1: Female Bonding. Truely and Celia CROSSOVER WITH Rekindled

Truely: *It'd been a hell of a day. I was overwhelmed with the weight of everything I'd witnessed and learned. I couldn't bear to see my shop. I assumed it was a disaster zone and just, I just couldn't. So, I hid. Under the covers of my bed.

 Everything hurt from my head to my toes, but most especially my heart. It’s not that I thought Zav was lying, after all I'd seen the evidence of his truth all over my shop. I just needed time to regroup. I didn't want to see or talk to anyone, so I didn't.

 I called my staff and gave them the week off, with pay. Not sure how that'd work but I'll manage. Then I got under my covers and fitfully slept. Dreams were non-existent because I didn't sleep long enough to have them. I kept waking, crying, then repeat.*

*Now the sun will be rising soon and I need a distraction and my regulars will be wanting morning bakes. So, I shower, dress, and make my way downstairs. I hear a noise from the shop and steel myself for another confrontation.*

 Alright assholes...*I try and keep steel in my voice as I throw the back door open only to be knocked back by the smells of cinnamon and vanilla.* Celia?

  Celia: *I'd watched over Truely while she slept. Part of the job and ghosts don't need sleep anyway. It had been a rough night from what I could tell but ghosts don't have the gift of dreamwalking so short of waking her, there was nothing I could do. And I figured waking her would just freak her out more than she already was. So when I was sure she was rousing and knowing she was protected up here in her apartment, I shimmered back down to the shop and began work. I wasn't sure what exactly she'd had planned for today so I went with cinnamon rolls and apple turnovers to start. Can't go wrong with those. Humming to myself as I put the first batch in the oven, I heard my name.*

 Hey Truely, lemme' get these in and then you can tell me what you need for the day.

Truely: *Whoaaaaa. I was not expecting this.* My shop is ok? I, um, I don't know what...thank you Celia. I don't know what happened as I expected a disaster but thank you. *I decided to close my unhinged jaw and get to work.*

It smells wonderful in here. Let me get the coffee going. *I grabbed my favorite apron and let the smells and sounds of a kitchen in use soothe me as I went out to the front and got the coffeemaker going.*

 Let's see, cinnamon rolls and apple um turnovers? So, should do some cookies, thinking chocolate chip and monster. Then maybe some peach cobbler sweet rolls for today's special. Whatcha think?

Celia: *Closing the oven door and smirking as I turn towards her* Of course your shop is ok. Didn't Zav tell you it would be? I could tell you a lot about that reaper angel of yours, but one of the top things would be that he keeps his promises. Cookies are simple enough. Add some coconut haystacks to that. I've got a good stovetop version that we can have out there in 15 minutes for early customers looking for something unusual. If you'll bring me a mug of that joe, two sugars please, I'll get the peach cobbler sweet rolls started.

 Truely: *I smile as I make my way to the coffee pot. I pour us both a cup, adding sugar to both plus cream in mine, then walk back to the kitchen.* Haystacks will be great! Here's your coffee. *I hand her the mug

But honestly so much was going through my head I probably spaced it. Oh! I should make chocolate peanut butter oatmeal no bakes. It can be a day of unusual. *I chuckle as I grab a bowl and the ingredients for my no bakes.*

Are you ok after all that happened yesterday? I'm guessing it was more fun for you, you know the whole kicking ass thing. Does your husband do what Zav does? I know it was mentioned he was away and that's why you came but now...I know it’s not the exact story right?

 Celia: *tilting my head at the cinnamon roll dough* I've got enough of this dough to use for a couple dozen peach cobbler rolls. If I use it, I can set another batch to rising and we can have both cinnamon rolls and peach cobbler rolls when the doors open and some of both baking for 10 o'clock brunch crowd. Do you get that here? *rolling out the dough as I speak,*

 Declan, my mate, is like me, a ghost. We aren't reapers. We were recruited to serve Zav's boss... well, it's complicated, he wasn't Zav's actual boss then, he'd stepped back from the reaper corps for the last thousand years, but he's back now... *sprinkling some spices and sugar on the rolled out dough, then opening canned peaches to make the filling* Anyway, his boss, Sin, wanted someone to cook for him and keep his properties in order. He said. I think he was just lonely. Reapers don't need to eat and he has lawyers and accountants to keep up with his money games. But when we died, Zav came for our souls, to help us move on, you know? But we weren't guaranteed our next lives were to be together and then Sin showed up and told Zav to leave us to him and so *shrugging* we stayed.

 Declan is supposed to be bodyguarding Sin right now. Like that's actually going to work. Sin does what Sin wants to do. The other reapers just wanted an early warning system in case Sin got jumped, someone to give them a minute to get to him. And who they could count on to shout out to them when it happened because they know Sin won't. And since winning the whole good vs evil showdown depends on Sin, it's kind of important he lives to do it. *snickers* They actually got him to stay on house arrest for a few weeks, but they had to know THAT wouldn't last.

Truely: *chuckles* Sounds like a man, er, male. Stubborn as hell. But this Sin must be a hell of a male to get such love and loyalty. I think it's wonderful he made sure you could stay with your mate. He must value the strength that comes from those things. Smart.

I smile as I drop the spoonful’s of batter on wax paper before putting the trays into the fridge to cool and harden.* I appreciate you sticking around. It’s nice talking to someone who gets what's going on. And any info on Zav you wanna share, feel free. *chuckles*

 Hey how are the buns faring? Need help?

 Celia: Sin /is/ a good male. He was a good man when he was human. Zav was his mentor then, you know? How they became friends. Zav told you he came to teach humans, right? It was a long, long time before we were around, but I know the story. Zav found Sin when he was just an ex-slave who had turned a rebellion into an army that was conquering war-lords left and right. Zav befriended him to teach him how to govern the lands he was conquering, to be a good king for the people. Something most of them hadn't had. And Sin became a very good king. But eventually it fell apart. Not because of Sin, unless you consider him being too successful and too tolerant a fault, but because a god got jealous of him. So Sin died and became Death's first reaper. And when that same god took Zav's family, Sin came for him and offered him a place with the reaper corps. So, yeah, he deserves the loyalty he gets. As for us, well...Sin lost his wife in all that. He's looked for her soul for thousands of years and never found it. I think he saw Declan and I as what he'd hoped to have. So we were lucky he was watching that day. *spooning the filling into the dough and then rolling it up.*

Can you hand me a knife so I can cut this into rolls?

 Truely: *I grab the knife closest to me and hand it over* Here you go. Zav is a teacher but now a reaper. He's still a teacher at heart though, I think. I take it Sin has yet to find his Queen? It’s a concept you learn about, reincarnation, and you think it's cool but you never think it’s really real. You know? *shrugs as I start the monster cookie mix* I wonder if my past self...hmmm, never mind. You could go crazy trying to figure some of this out. If I may ask, what was your life like when you were alive? Were you and your mate in charge of your people? Were you here in the states?

   Celia: *taking the knife and slicing the rolled log of dough* I think Sin's given up on finding her. It worries them, going into this. He'll fight to win, but he's lost his reason to survive it. *Laying the rolls one by one on a prepared baking sheet, being careful of the filling.*

Sure, you can ask. *laughs, then sobers* Wolfen can live a long time compared to humans. A couple of centuries, if they're allowed to die naturally. But wolven culture doesn't allow for that often. It's a survival-of-the-fittest world. And there's a very specific order within the packs. Declan was our pack's Beta, the second in charge. In the 20th century that basically meant he was in charge of security. His status gave me the status of second among the females. As such, I was in charge of domestic operations, including cooking. It was just luck that I went to culinary school before I was mated. All that stuff I told you was true, by the way. It was just in the early 1980's. *smiles reminiscently* We were the best fed pack in the northern Hemisphere.

  Truely: *smiles and chuckles* I bet so. You are very good at what you do. That includes kicking ass by the way. *I start spooning the cookie mixture onto the pans making sure to space them evenly.* So, I mean if you were seconds then what happened? Don't people usually go after the leaders?

  Celia: *I'm quiet for a moment. Some memories are hard to talk about. Putting the peach rolls in the oven, I take a towel and wipe my hands before tossing it into a laundry receptacle. Taking a breath, I meet her eyes. The world isn't what she thought it was and I wouldn't be doing her any favors by not telling her all of it now that she was aware of the bigger picture.*

 They went after /all/ of us. Every male, female and pup. None of us survived. *Inhaling again and then huffing it out.*

 We were a very prosperous pack. Our territory encompassed a large area that was rich rare earth elements -- stuff that's used in everything from computer screens to jet engines to communications systems. And another pack wanted it. They infiltrated us and then one night overrode our security systems. *My eyes grow bleak at the memories*

 Declan was running the late watch that night. He was one of the first to die, but he managed to sound the internal alarms first. Our Alpha rallied as many fighters as we had left in an attempt to defend the families but there just weren't enough fighters left. We were overrun.

  Truely: Oh dear Gods. Celia. *I squeezed her shoulder letting her feel my empathy. I figured she wasn't much for hugs, especially from a near stranger, but I needed her to know I was there.*

Thank you for sharing that. It couldn't have been easy. Does the pack that murdered your still exist? Or did they get their just rewards? *I slipped the first two trays of cookies into the oven.*

 Celia: *shrugs* The world isn't exactly what you thought it was, Truely. You deserve to know all of it. The good and the bad. Wolven culture carries the survival-of-the-fittest philosophy to the extremes, yes, but it’s not so different from other cultures. Very few are live-and-let-live. Greed and jealousy are motivations in the human world too. It's just not usually so blatantly done. *sighing*

 The pack that destroyed ours no longer exists. We had just begun doing business with a pack that was venturing into telecommunication technologies. They were looking into partnering with us, with us providing the raw materials and getting into the manufacturing end and them developing the applications and marketing. Their territory bordered ours and their alpha wasn't open to doing business with murderers. *giving you a lopsided small smile.* He also wasn't open to having his pack, and his own mate and young son, live so close to a pack who would kill pups. He took them down. Hard. Made an example out of the alpha and beta. The females and young of the pack he allowed to become part of his own. Fighting males and the alpha's pack council didn't survive the initial onslaught but males over 16 who weren't involved in the fighting were given the opportunity to assimilate or go lone wolf. Most of the young ones assimilated into Blood Moon. I don't know what happened to the others.

  Truely: Well, I'm glad they got theirs. No one should get away with slaughter like that. I know it happens but I don't have to like it and I can relish when assholes get theirs. I need you to do me a favor, if you will. We need a new thing of flour but it's in the cellar. Usually I have Dusti or Lu get it but they are gone. Would you mind getting it? I'll keep an eye on the goodies in the oven.

Celia: *raising my eyebrow* You have a cellar? Did you and Zav ward it? Reapers can get in anywhere Truely. Any open space.

  Truely: It’s very small and ya Zav did. I just. I don’t down there is all.

 Celia: *tilting my head quizzically* You don't go down there? *raising an eyebrow* When I get back, we're gonna talk about that. Anytime somebody gets the creepies about a place or person, there's a reason.

 *Going ghost, I dematerialize down into the cellar. Reforming, I look around* Hmmm, just your run-of-the-mill basement, *murmuring to myself.* Well-finished and clean. Well organized too. No spirits or bad juju here.

 *There was a large sealed container on a pallet near one of the shelves labeled "flour". Opening it, I hoist out a 50lb bag of Minnesota Girl Bakers Flour and put it on my shoulder, then demat back to the kitchen. That's the thing about being both wolfen and ghost. I'm stronger than humans my size and more efficient.*

 Where do you want this?

  Truely: *I laugh with surprise and thrill when you come back carrying that bag* Usually I get 15 minutes of complaints about how I’m wrecking backs by making them drag it up. Thanks though. The rolls are close to done, and the cookies are just about ready to come out too. I'm just about to put the haystacks and no bake cookies out. Wanna help?

  Celia: *Sits the bag of flower on a metal prep table* Sure. Presentation of the food was an actual class. *laughs* But I might be out of practice at that.

  Truely: Easy peasy. *I walk out to the front, pull the show trays out and begin placing the cookies in three long rows.* I do three rows and put the prettiest three at the front. *smiling as I put one full show tray in the display and start working on another.*

 We'll put the haystacks to the left, our left, and no bakes to the right. Usually people start wandering in around 8:30 for coffee and whatever sweet thing is available. But the real crowds hit around 10am, like you mentioned. *I work on another tray as you grab and start yours*

  Celia: *Working quickly, I imitate Truely's display with the haystack cookies, finishing one tray and then starting another before beginning...* I checked out your basement Tru. There's no bad juju there or ghosts. And if there had been I'd have known. And taken care of it. So is it just this cellar or all cellars that give you the willies?

Truely: Oh um *her question caught me off guard since no-one has ever asked me why. They just figure it is one of those things like people who hate anchovies on pizza...just a thing a person dislikes.*

 Well, anything basement or cellar-like. I don't like those types of places, they *I sigh* scare me. Have since I was a very little girl. My parents even moved us to a new place that didn't have one when I was 8 because the one we had scared me too much. As I got older I could lock that fear away, you know I didn't let it bug me. But I still can't go down into them.

  Celia: *Nods as I finish the last tray of cookies* When we're kids lots of things scare us. And being afraid of the dark is usually one of them. But as we get older we usually lose that. Not to say we aren't cautious about things. There's scary stuff out there in the dark. I should know. A lot of people would think I'm one of them. But when we don't lose that fear of something, there's usually a reason behind it. Stuffing down the things you're afraid of only gives them power Tru. If you ever want to face it, I'll be right there beside you.

  Truely: Thank you. I, hmmm, well I don't remember exactly why. See, I was adopted when I was 3. I don't, naturally, remember a lot from that time but I do remember being locked in a very dark basement and being so scared.

 *I look off into the distance* I remember crying to get out. Whispers. Cold. *I shiver and wrap my arms around myself. Shaking my head I grin* Anyway....ever since, just hated them.

  Celia: *Slipping my arm around your shoulders for a quick squeeze* That would be scary for any kid. I totally get your fear. But did you know that little kids can sometimes see or hear us? Ghosts, I mean. It's because they haven't been convinced yet that we're not real. Those whispers could have been from someone like me, maybe just not strong enough to really make themselves heard, but trying to reach out to you.

Truely: Maybe, it's just that it doesn't feel umm nice. *The timer goes off just then*

 Oh, we best get those so they don't burn. We can um talk after if you want. Maybe explain ghosts more.

 <<<TBC>>>

  #FamilyMatters #FemaleBonding #RRPG #BDBAU #Renegades #Reapers #Angels #Vampires #Ghosts #Wolven

[multipleservicelisting]

Master Tenant Pleads Guilty to Involuntary Manslaughter in Ghost Ship Fire

The master tenant of a warehouse that had been converted into a ramshackle artists’ collective in Oakland, Calif., pleaded guilty to 36 counts of involuntary manslaughter on Friday, four years after a fire tore through the building, killing 36 people, court records show.

The master tenant, Derick Almena, entered the pleas in Alameda County Superior Court, avoiding a second trial after his first trial ended without a verdict in 2019.

Mr. Almena was one of two people who had been criminally charged in connection with the fire — the other was found not guilty in 2019 — and his pleas came after several twists in the case had infuriated victims’ families.

The Alameda County District Attorney’s Office said Friday that it could not comment because of a gag order issued by Judge Trina Thompson. Mr. Almena’s lawyer, Tony Serra, did not immediately respond to messages.

But Mary Alexander, a lawyer representing the families of 13 victims, said the families were outraged with the plea agreement, which she said would allow Mr. Almena to avoid additional time behind bars when he is sentenced on March 8. Mr. Almena was in jail for about three years after he was arrested and charged in connection with the fire; he was released on bail last year.

Ms. Alexander said prosecutors had told the families that although Mr. Almena would receive a nine-year prison sentence, he would be credited for time served and good behavior, which could allow him to serve the remainder of his sentence — roughly a year and several months — at home with an ankle bracelet. After that, he would be expected to complete three years of probation, Ms. Alexander said.

“This is really a crushing blow for the families,” Ms. Alexander said. “It’s not enough time behind bars. They feel like it’s not justice and they’re not holding him accountable for killing 36 beautiful young people.”

Colleen Dolan, whose daughter, Chelsea Faith Dolan, 33, was killed in the fire, said it was not fair to allow Mr. Almena to serve his sentence at home when many are already stuck at home because of the coronavirus.

“We’ve all been sitting at home,” she said. “We’ve all been living in isolation for a year. And this is supposed to be justice? It just isn’t.”

The warehouse, which housed an artists’ collective known as the Ghost Ship, burned during a late-night party on Dec. 2, 2016.

Many of the residents had been living there in violation of zoning laws, and the fire highlighted the failure of Oakland’s leaders to enforce building and fire codes. The inferno also became an emblem of the rising cost of living in the Bay Area, which led many artists and young people to seek shelter in the run-down building.

Prosecutors said Mr. Almena, who was the lease holder, had moved into the warehouse with his family in violation of the lease, the Oakland municipal code and the California state fire code.

He then began to sublet space to people inside the warehouse, and encouraged residents to create their own living spaces from unconventional materials he had collected, including dry wood, fence boards, shingles, window frames, wooden sculptures, tapestries, pianos, organs and rugs, prosecutors said.

The flammable material became kindling for the blaze, which quickly consumed the building. Many of the victims were attending a party on the second floor and were unable to escape down the staircase.

Derick Almena pleaded guilty to 36 counts of involuntary manslaughter in connection with the December 2016 fire.Credit…Alameda County Sheriff’s Office, via Associated Press

Mr. Almena and Max Harris, whom prosecutors described as Mr. Almena’s right hand in managing the warehouse, were arrested in 2017 and charged with 36 counts each of involuntary manslaughter.

In 2018, prosecutors announced that they had reached a plea deal with Mr. Almena and Mr. Harris, in which the defendants had agreed to plead no contest to the charges.

Under the deal, Mr. Almena would have served nine years in prison, and Mr. Harris six years. But a month later, after an outcry from families who condemned the deal as too lenient, a judge rejected the agreement, setting up a trial.

During closing arguments, prosecutors called the warehouse a “death trap” and dismissed the defense’s claims that arsonists might have been responsible for the blaze. Witnesses had testified that there were no smoke alarms or sprinklers, and that Mr. Almena once laughed off the suggestion that the warehouse was dangerously susceptible to fire.

After three months of testimony, Mr. Harris was acquitted in September 2019, and the jury told Judge Thompson that they could not reach a verdict on the charges against Mr. Almena.

In July, the City of Oakland agreed to pay nearly $33 million to settle lawsuits filed on behalf of the victims.

Ms. Dolan said that victims’ families would be able to make impact statements on March 8, when Mr. Almena is sentenced. She said it was impossible, however, for the families to convey their “disappointment with this feeble plea bargain.”

Ms. Dolan said her daughter, an electronic musician who performed under the stage name Cherushii, had agreed to perform at the Ghost Ship to support a label mate on the night of the fire.

“She and all the other friends in this artistic community, whether it was artists or whether it was fans, they all showed up to support one of their own, and they all died,” Ms. Dolan said. “There’s no way we can put into words the deep, deep sorrow we feel.”

    Multiple Service Listing for Business Owners | Tools to Grow Your Local Business

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[octannibal-blake]

sad songs for dirty lovers 1/4

by: bellamysdelinquent rating: mature word count: 15,005 part: 1/4

based on a prompt from @whyclarke from months ago.

special thanks to @pensieve-foryour-thoughts for the awesome advice and edits! 

part i. we have scars to cover

May 2013

When Clarke Griffin imagines how she thought her senior year of high school would go, she didn’t imagine it would begin with a severe back injury and losing her best friend. She didn’t imagine it would be filled with whispers in the hallway about how it was actually her fault, that if she hadn’t gotten shit faced drunk at a party, walked in on her boyfriend with his face between another girl’s legs, and called him to come get her, Wells Jaha would have been alive to walk across the stage and receive his high school diploma. He would be well on his way to Stanford to become the best lawyer in the United States. According to the same whispers in the hallway, she took that all away.

It took her a majority of the year to realize Wells’ death hadn’t been her fault, it was just the wrong place at the wrong time. It took some therapy, some nights spent in the sheets with whoever she could find that was willing (girls, boys, she learned a long time ago she didn’t care), and  even more nights spent curled into her father's side, broken and afraid of the world. But she’s coping, or she’s trying, at least. In the fall she’ll be heading to Northwestern for her freshman year of college and to her, it’s a new beginning. It’s a new life.

Needless to say, the last thing she wants to do is spend her summer with her mother. Abigail Griffin is many things -- renowned surgeon, respected researcher, and benefactor to multiple non-profit organizations (though, Clarke knows this is more for image than for actually caring). Being a good mom? That’s not exactly in the same category. In fact, motherly skills is not something she could put on her list of accomplishments. Her parents divorced when she was ten years old, though it hadn’t come as a surprise. As far as Clarke is concerned, she was raised by her father. Her mom had spent countless hours at work, out of town for research shit and conferences and whatever else she could do to stay busy. Eventually, she decided to stay gone altogether. She moved to Boston, taking some prestigious job in a research center hoping to one day cure paralysis. Clarke and her dad stayed in Arkadia, the small town on the outskirts of Maryland. She had been fine with this arrangement.

But Jake Griffin ensured his daughter maintained some relationship with her mother, whether (it) be agreed visits over breaks or forced phone calls between the two of them to check in. She never liked them much, but it made her dad happy, so she would suffer on his behalf. Which is exactly how she finds herself in this predicament: currently standing in the middle of downtown Boston, lost and sweating her ass off. All because she loves her father.

“You need to get away from here,” he told her late last week, “And I know you’re going to Chicago in the fall, but it’s important for you to spend time with your mom.”

She had all but kicked and screamed to get out of it, though when asked she couldn’t provide any concrete reason not to go. She had learned to hate Arkadia and everyone in it, and she felt Wells’ ghost follow her everywhere she went, like some sort of reminder that she made it and he didn’t so she should be grateful. It’s the worst kind of haunted. She let him convince her, and in a moment of weakness, got on the plane.

She regrets it(coming to Boston), especially now that she’s become lost and is exactly the kind of person to refuse directions from anyone. When she arrived, her mom had been just as awkward as expected, but she has to give her credit for trying. She took the day off to show her around the city, give her a tour of the local hotspots and entertainment within walking distance. It turns out there are a lot of things within walking distance as her mom’s condo is located in the heart of Midtown. She isn’t surprised- Being a doctor means having money. Being a good doctor who is very well-known and respected? It means more having money than absolutely necessary. She can’t complain, she supposes. Her mom is at least paying for college. Some fucked up penance for child support over the years.

Their reunion had been short lived. The day after she arrived, Dr. Griffin had to go back to work and she’s only caught glimpses of her since. It’s been a whole week and she’s already to go the fuck home. She huffs in frustration as she turns the map in her hands again, trying to pinpoint exactly where she is. Realizing she just isn’t cut out for topography, she stuffs the map into her backpack and pulls out her phone, typing the nearest address into Google maps and finding her location. It’s a ten minute walk from the condo to her spot.

She’s making an effort to be active, even when all she wants to do is lie on her mom’s expensive sofa and binge watch Netflix on the big screen. That’s what she had done her first three days alone, wallowing in her own misery and silently cursing her father for putting this on her. But then she realized this is the first time she’s had true freedom and who the hell is she to sit around and waste it?

She checks out some of the local shops and galleries, feeling a particular pull to the small art studios. When she walks in, often times she’s ignored by the owner. They are, no doubt, pegging her to be some disruptive teen pretending to be a know it all for the sake of being pretentious. She feels a particular satisfaction when she asks the artist about their pieces and goes into a deep discussion of the technique and well-meaning behind them. She manages to walk away with invitations to local art shows and even the number of one of the shop owners. His name is Nyko, and she’s almost positive he was hitting on her. She’s also almost positive he’s in his thirties.

She stuffs the phone number into the back pocket of her jeans without a second thought and continues her journey around the city. She doesn’t get far before her stomach begins to growl aggressively. She tries to Google restaurants around the area, but decides instead to try out one of the food trucks parked on the curb. She finds one advertising a messy looking sandwich, filled with cheese and onions and her mouth practically drools. She steps up to the counter and orders. They prepare it fairly quickly and when she steps to the side to enjoy the Boston-take on the Philly Cheese Steak, she notices the looming building across the street.

Architecturally, it’s gorgeous, with ancient brick and large arched glass windows. Engraved at the top is: “Library of the City of Boston Built by the People and Dedicated to the Advancement of Learning”. It reminds her of something out of the Harry Potter books, if only for it’s long descriptive title It could have said Public Library and had the same effect.. She remembers hearing her mom mention the library to her in passing,  saying she would bring her here to show her around and perhaps give her an early start on pre-med books. She had been less than excited about it. But now, as she stands outside without her mom, it actually seems quite interesting.

When walks in, she understands why it has such a fancy title. The inside is something out of a regency period novel, perhaps even something out of a castle in kingdoms long ago. A soft, sand colored marble graces the floors and the walls, shining brightly as though they had just been polished. The ceiling arches over them, engraved with elegant designs and paints. Pillars are placed sporadically through the entrance hall, making it seem more daunting than anything. She runs her hands along the walls, where art flows freely around and up the stairs. She moves between galleries, admiring their respective themes and Googling any piece that seems unfamiliar. She likes knowing artists- It’s kind of her thing.

She isn’t sure how long she spends gazing at all the pieces, recognizing some from her high school art history classes and others from her dad’s old art books. She’s completely zoned out when someone startles her.

“This panel represents epic poetry,” a deep voice says from behind her, “it represents Homer, the author of The Iliad and The Odyssey. They’re crowning him.”

She turns to snap at the person who had taken it upon himself to pretentiously explain the art piece to her, but stops when she sees a nameplate, gold plated and bold name, staring back at her. She pauses, taking a good look at the owner of said nametag and notes he can’t be much older than her. Based on the BU  hoodie he has paired with his well-ironed khakis, he’s a college student. And he works here.

He nods at the painting, “It’s by an artist named ---”

“Puvis de Chavannes,” she finishes for him, “I know.”

It comes out a little sharper than she intends, but he seems not to mind. Instead, he moves to stand next to her and pulls her attention back to the other panels, “So, I’m assuming I don’t need to explain these to you, either?”

He’s looking at her with a crooked smile and renewed interest. He had clearly not been expecting her to know. It isn’t common pop culture knowledge by any means. She takes a good look at him, admiring the freckles that pepper his nose and the way his dark hair is all chaos in curls. When she locks eyes with him, dark, chocolate orbs, gleaming with something that almost looks like excitement. Like he truly enjoys talking about art history. She decides to humor him.

“No,” she says finally, “But I guess it’s your job to explain it to me, so go ahead.”

He laughs, and she finds she likes the way it sounds. It’s deep, rich, and sends a small tingle up her spine.

He then launches into a grandiose explanation of the rest of the panels, talking passionately with his hands about each piece and their historical significance. She finds it’s refreshing to  hear someone talk so passionately about art. She counters him a few times, telling him the correct facts about the artist and their techniques in painting it.  By the end of it she’s almost criticizing the pieces and he immediately becomes offended.

“Back then, this technique was popular!” he says in disbelief, “The lines are beautiful.”

She shrugs, “I don’t know...I just don’t think he captured the true emotion of the time, though.”

Bellamy scoffs, “I don’t think emotion is what he was going for. He was just recording history!”

She can’t hold in her laugh at the way he seems so offended by her opinion and this seems to soften him up a little bit.

She shakes her head at him, “I guess you’re the expert, huh?”

He gives her a mischievous grin before backing away from her slowly. It’s then she notices an abandoned cart full of books a few feet away. He grabs it and pushes it towards her, stopping when he’s next to her again, “I’m just the guy who puts away books.”

She nods, like it was the most obvious thing in the world (even though he had definitely convinced her he was the art guy), “Right. Next time I’ll be sure to find the actual art expert.”

He shrugs his shoulders and begins to push the cart away, but not without the last word, “Well, if you don’t want to be bored to tears, I’m here Monday through Friday...”

“I’ll keep that in mind…” she makes a show of squinting as his nametag, “Bellamy.”

“I’ll be sure to warn the so-called art experts about you…”

“Clarke.” she fills in for him.

“See you around then, Clarke.”

He doesn’t give her a chance to respond before he rolls away, leaving her thinking she might just have to visit the library on a regular basis. For the art, of course.

*

She falls into an easy routine. Her mom shows no signs of slowing down at work and she has eaten dinner more times alone than she would have liked. She can’t help but be a little perturbed by the whole thing. She had come to Boston with relatively low expectations  but even so, she can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. To compensate for her mother’s lack of interest in hanging out with her daughter, Clarke has made it a goal to go out and at least try to have fun for the summer. Her dad had sent her here for a reason, whether it be to simply get away from her shit town or for her to find some way to fully heal and move on with her life. Somehow, she knows it was probably for both of those reasons.

Her routine begins with a morning walk around the neighborhood; she stops at the bakery to grab a cup of coffee and continues walking, mostly to people watch. She finds it  quite entertaining. Post cup of coffee, she’ll walk to the park and sketch. Drawing has always been her best outlet, the thing to keep her sane even when she felt the furthest thing from it. Over the months, she’s filled more sketchpads than ever in her entire life and though it didn’t cure her, it definitely helped. Her mom calls it a hobby, but it’s always felt like more than that. She gets lost and pours her soul into it.

Sketching will keep her busy until the afternoon at least. She’ll walk home, grab some food, and shower. Then, she’ll make her way back to the library to simply read. Something about it makes her feels safe. It gives her something to pass the time and their collection of old literature piled with old biology and anatomy records is quite interesting. Admittedly, during the hours she spends there, she checks out the book cart guy, Bellamy, while she’s there. She doesn’t see him everyday but when she does, it’s usually when he passes by her table, a squeaking cart in tow, and he comments on something she’s reading or offers a fun fact about one of the million art pieces located around the gallery. They’ll talk briefly and then he’ll bid her goodbye and move right on along.

When she talks to her friend, Raven, she can practically hear the girl roll her eyes through the phone, “Jesus, you would be the one to do some weird, artsy flirting with a librarian.”

Raven is a spitfire, part of what draws Clarke to her. She had been devastated to find out her boyfriend had been dating someone else at the same time (though, Clarke was the actual side chick), but it led her to Raven Reyes and she is actually pretty fucking grateful for that.

“I didn’t come all the way here to date,” she argued, “I’m not emotionally ready for that.”

“Well, at least make some friends while you’re there. You could use them.” Always count on Raven to put things in blunt perspective. It’s a blessing and a curse.

She isn’t sure how to make friends. Right now, Bellamy is the closes thing she has and she has no idea how to push that mere acquaintanceship into friend territory. Does she ask him to hang out? It seems like that could easily be misconstrued into a date, which is definitely not what she wants to happen. Though, she could probably make it clear that she only wants to be friends. She’s never been good at this stuff. Wells was always the more popular one of the two of them. She had just always been part of the deal with him.She doesn’t have to overthink it much more because as luck would have it, Bellamy makes the first effort.

She’s buried deep into an old anatomy book when she hears him clear his throat,“You do realize it's nine p.m on a Friday night and you're sitting in a library?”

She looks up from her book to find him leaning against her table, collar of his library issued polo unbuttoned and name tag missing. Off the clock, she assumes.

“I suppose there are better things to do?” she crosses her hands over the book she had been engrossed in and smiles sarcastically. There are probably a million things she could do that would be more appeasing than reading books about the human body, but going home to an empty house is not one of those. She doesn’t do well with silence and emptiness. That’s when her thoughts become the loudest.

He shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets, “Probably. I was about to meet some friends for a drink.”

She leans back and shuts the book with an aggressive thud before grabbing her bag off the back of her chair, “A nerd like you has friends? I figured you spent your free time talking to yourself about all the inaccuracies of the Hercules cartoon.”

He laughs at her dig, “I save that for weekdays.”

“Mmm, of course.”

She slings the bag over her shoulders and stands there awkwardly, fiddling with the straps. She wonders if he is actually trying to ask her to come out with him or if he’s just telling her his plans for the night. When the pause becomes a bit too overwhelming, she starts for the door.

“You in?” he asks, falling into step behind her.

She skids to a halt, her Keds making an uncomfortable screech against the polished marble. He stops too, eyebrow quirked, “Or not?”

She considers him for a moment. She's known him for a solid two weeks now. Granted, their relationship extends as far as first name basis and artistic opinions. But, it’s not like she has any other options available. It beats spending all night in an old ass library  (even if it is beautiful).

“Sounds great,” she finally answers. Raven would definitely tell her to go. Plus, she wants something to occupy here time. It’ll be good for her, too, to put herself out there. He’s fairly cute. Win-win.

She follows him out of the library, where he immediately untucks his shirt and runs a hand through his hair, pushing the curls into their natural chaotic look. All professionalism vanished from sight. The disheveled look works for him, she decides.

“So,” he says as they fall into step together, “What's your story?”

She tries to hide how uncomfortable that question makes her. She’s never been one to talk about herself, but now it’s become especially difficult. She decides to take a more sarcastic route.

“Oh, you want my biography?”

He shrugs, “Just the basics. So I know you aren't plotting to kill me or something.”

“Says the guy who lured me out of the library after dark,” she counters.

He doesn't respond and she takes that to mean he's waiting for an answer. She decides he probably isn’t a serial killer. Mostly because she just doesn’t get that vibe from him and she thinks she has a good judge of character. Plus, they’re on a well lit street so if he tries something, she should be able to escape pretty easily. She has a mace.

“Visiting for the summer,” she tells him finally, “Divorced parents. Different cities. Nothing crazy.”

“So that explains why you hang it out in a library for fun.”

“It's close and free.”

“Fair enough,” he concedes. She takes it as her opportunity to question him.

“And you?” she probes, desperate to take the attention off her, but also curious to learn about the mysterious librarian once he’s no longer in the library.

He seems to think about his answer carefully, “I live here full time. I go to BU. The library is a summer gig. My professor hooked me up.”

So he’s a student. It makes sense; It explains all the random history knowledge he seems to have stored in his brain and also the fact that he actually seems to enjoy working in the library. She doesn’t know many people this age who would find joy working in a place like that (though, she is part of the minority along with him.).

“Let me guess,” she taps her chin with her finger, “History major?”

Predictable.

He feigns shock at her assumption, “How did you know?”

She laughs and finds herself feeling more comfortable around him. He’s a bit intimidating, with his sharp wit and rugged good looks. She had planned to just admire him from a distance, which definitely sounds creepy but it isn’t. She figured he’d remain an anomaly she told Raven about -- just the cute guy in the library.  She hadn't thought they’d actually speak. She definitely expect him to ask her out, or well, whatever it is they’re doing.

“How about you?” he breaks her from her thoughts, “What's your major?”

She almost tells him she hasn't declared since she's only just starting. But then she doesn't because he's taking her out to, presumably, a bar and her ID says that she’s 21. Not that she has any interest in drinking, but she also doesn’t want miss out on this opportunity. This trip is about expanding comfort zones and putting herself back out there, at least, that’s what Raven told her to use it for.

“Pre-med,” is what she finally settles on. He lets out a low whistle.

“That explains all the anatomy books you've been checking out,” he says passively and she stops again, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Have you been stalking my check out record?”

He turns to face her, “Someone’s flattering themselves. You realize I can see what you’re reading when I pass by your table.”

“So you’re just creepy from afar then?”

“I think you’re projecting,” he scoffs, “Don’t act like you had any intention of coming back there until I so eloquently explained those art pieces to you.”

She finds herself having to bite back a smile, their banter coming quick and naturally. She’s already having fun, “I’m not the one that goes out of the way to walk by your table.”

He laughs at that, holding his hands up in surrender, “Fine. You caught me. I was trying to be smooth.”

“And why is that?”

He stops them in front of, what she can only presume to be, the bar they’re meeting his friends at. It’s got an old-time feel to it, with a sign hanging above a chipping wooden door. She can faintly hear music thumping from behind it.

“Cute girl who knows history?” he offers and this time she doesn’t bother to hold back her smile.

He doesn't give her a chance to respond and she's somewhat thankful because she isn't sure what to say. He pulls open the door and gestures for her to enter first. She mumbles a quick thank you.

The bar turns out to be an old pub. The Ark, it's called. It's cozy, reminiscent of the ones you'd see on a modern sitcom. Full of hipsters and draft beer choices. Every day of the week holding a special event: Trivia on Wednesdays, Karaoke on Thursdays and Fridays,live music on Saturdays. She can't say she's surprised.

She follows him over to a booth in the back where he is greeted warmly by a group of people, who are seemingly already a bit tipsy.

“Everyone, this is Clarke,” he announces, “She was reading biology books in the library for fun.”

“Anatomy,” she corrects without thinking. Her cheeks grow red when she does. Smooth.

She's met by choruses of ‘Hi Clarke!’ and ‘We love nerds.” which makes her feel slightly better about the whole thing. He pulls up a couple of chairs from a nearby table and she plops down next to him. She’s trying not to be awkward, but damn if it doesn’t come naturally. She pulls her phone from her back pocket and shoots a quick text to Raven.

Clarke: “I’m socializing. You should be proud of me.”

Raven: “Bloom, my beautiful flower”.

She giggles and stuffs her phone into her backpack. She wouldn’t say she’s an introvert by any means, but meeting new people has always been an awkward experience for her. She never really knows how to start. Luckily, Bellamy seems to sense her discomfort and introduces them one by one.

“That’s Miller,” he points at a scruffy guy currently sporting a beanie despite it being summer, “My roommate and a total dick.”

The guy, Miller, glares at his friend before extending a hand, “Nice to meet you. Also, he’s projecting his own insecurities onto me. He is the actual dick in the relationship.”

She smiles at that. The others get similar introductions: Harper, the peppy blonde, Gina, the kick ass bartender, Murphy, the kindest asshole she’ll ever meet, and Emori, the asshole’s equally asshole-y girlfriend (in a loving way).

“Bellamy, do you have a radar for finding lost souls?” Harper nudges him on the shoulder playfully.

“You know, I’d be careful,” Murphy comments, “With the way you target young, attractive, lonely people, you might start coming off like a serial killer.”

She decides to give the whole being friendly thing a go. She pipes in, “I definitely got serial killer vibes.”

Bellamy gives her a faux wounded look while the others laugh, “Don’t feed into it!”

She smirks back but finds herself questioning, “Does this happen often?”

“God, yes,” Miller groans. And that’s how they spend the next hour, trading each other’s stories about how they met Bellamy. Miller is the original friend (or OF as he calls it), having been friends with him since high school. They met after Miller had been subject to severe bullying when other kids found out he was into guys.

“Talk about fragile masculinity,” Miller rolls his eyes as he recounts the story, “Anyways, Bellamy here so valiantly defended my honor and punched one of the guys on the football team for using some pretty nasty slurs.”

“We spent the rest of high school as the mystery couple,” Bellamy confirms, “Some people figured he was my boyfriend and that’s why I got mad.”

“Best fake boyfriend ever,” Miller tilts his beer into the air and takes a long sip. Gina goes next, explaining that she had come to this bar, to drink her pain away after suffering a pretty nasty breakup. Bellamy forced her to sing karaoke and made sure she got home safely. They ended up dating for almost a month before both realized the romantic chemistry wasn’t there and stayed friends.

“You’re not a good real boyfriend,” Gina pats him on the shoulder, “But you’ll make a good mom.”

“Mother hen, Bellamy,” Murphy agrees, and launches into his hilariously unexciting story about how he had been the brooding freshman in their biology lab and after a long and painful semester of being forced to work together, Bellamy had ensured that Murphy passed Biology with flying colors. Though Murphy does seem to be the most cynical of the group, he does seem appreciative of his friend.

Harper is the last to go, “This is going to sound like some bad college PSA, but I got drunk at a frat party and I guess some douche tried to slip something in my drink while I wasn’t looking. I’m sure you can guess what happened.”

“He saved the day?” she asks, watching Bellamy with curiosity. His cheeks are glowing red, seemingly embarrassed by the sudden revelation of all the good deeds he’s ever done.

“He saved the fucking day,” Harper confirms, “Launched the guy right out of his own Frat house and called me an Uber to get back to the dorm.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that you have a savior complex?” she concludes. He chugs at least half of his beer he had poured from the table’s pitcher, smacking his lips at the end.

“Sure,” he responds shortly, and she watches something like annoyance pass through his eyes. Before she can think further into it, Miller seems to notice the slight exchange and changes the subject.

“So, you read anatomy books for fun?” The conversation flows easily after that, and she realizes this is the first time she’s truly had fun in a while.

“I had just watched Mary Poppins for the first time!” she’s defending herself, hours later, and the group laughs at her sheer idiocy. By the end of it, she nearly forgets they had all been strangers when she walks through the doors. She thinks making friends may not be a lost cause after all.

“Can we keep her?” Gina asks Bellamy as they all pack up to leave for the night. She pretends not to hear, fiddling with her backpack like she’s searching for something.

She has to keep herself from grinning when she hears his response.

“Definitely.”

*

“We’re going out for Gina’s birthday tonight.”

She is currently helping Bellamy sift through the return cart, reshelving the books in their appropriate sections. They have been working diligently for the last couple of hours and the cart seems to finally dwindling down. Over the last couple weeks, since Bellamy took her to meet his friends, they’ve managed to make a smooth transition into friendly territory. When she stopped by the library the next day, he sat with her on his break and they bickered over the value of reading medical books from the 1940s when medicine has made such big strides since then.

After that, it sort of became a part of the day.. He’d come over for breaks and they would chat, sometimes about the weather and other times about the meaning of life (he had been skimming the philosophy section on those particular days). She preferred keeping conversations light, away from personal territory.  The closest they had gotten is when they were in the theatre section placing the mere two returns for it, she mentioned that her ex-girlfriend’s favorite play had been Othello.

“I’m bi,” she had essentially word vomited, though he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t even hinted at wanting to know her sexuality but she threw it at him anyways.

“Sorry,” she apologized, blush creeping into skin, “You didn’t ask.”

She expected him to just shrug it off and go on with the day. She had been surprised when he had offered a sympathetic smile and told her very nonchalantly that he also identifies as bi.

“You know, in case you ever wanna talk about,” he added. It’s not much in the way of revealing deeply personal things, but it makes her acutely aware that she’s struggling to keep him at arm's reach. That feeling bubbles up on occasion and when she’d begin to feel as if the conversation was turning too serious, too personal, she’d excused herself to the restroom or rapidly direct them back into the safe zone.

It wasn’t until a couple of days ago that she had offered to help with his work. He had passed by to let her know he was going to work through his break, a very cluttered cart being pulled behind him. He looked like he had been hard at work, his cheeks flush and curls sticking to the sweat beading on his forehead. She isn’t sure what possessed her to offer, but she shut her own book and followed him into the stacks to ask for the rundown on how to shelve them.

“You don’t have to help me with my job, Clarke,” was his first response, but she had shushed him and repeated her questions. With a defeated sigh, he reluctantly explained the catalog system and the shelving etiquette.

She’s currently shoving three copies of Fifty Shades of Grey onto the shelf with a smidge of aggressiveness.

“Can you believe people really read this shit?” she muses aloud, completely missing his previous statement. She likes erotica as much as the next person but that? (It’s )A monstrosity.

“Believe it or not, some people don’t care to read academically all the time,” he jokes and she gives him the finger in return.

“I was reading a regular book, earlier,” she argues and he rolls his eyes, pushing another book onto the shelf.

“I would consider trying to read any part of Infinite Jest academic reading as well.”

“There’s just no winning with you is there?”

“Nope,” he pops his lips dramatically on the word, “But as I was saying, you should come out with everyone tonight.”

She’s been out with the group a handful of times now. She was given a trial run on the trivia team, and as luck would have it, they scored first thanks to her unmatched knowledge on the human body. They had quickly extended a permanent invite to their savior. She accompanied Bellamy from the library to their usual weekend outings, whether it be to a movie or to the Ark just to hang out. She fits in well with them. Even Harper has made an effort to hang out with her, solo. They exchanged numbers and have gotten coffee a couple of times, Harper joining her on her morning walks. She finds that she really likes the girl, her positivity a much needed change in her life.She really is trying.

“Oh, should I?” she responds with a quirked eyebrow.

“I’m sure you have better things to do,” he says sarcastically. Of course, he knows she doesn’t. Hell, she’s made it pretty damn obvious by the amount of time she chooses to spend with him at the library. She even volunteered to help him work.

“I might,” she twists one of her blonde curls idly between her fingers, looking at him innocently enough.

He rolls his eyes, “Well, when you inevitably get bored doing whatever it is, you can meet me here at ten. Wear something nice.”

She doesn’t respond but he seems okay with that. They continue placing books side by side and she decides to take off once they finish. She begins to feel the familiar dull ache of her back and knows she should go home and take a hot bath and rest. Just as she’s pushing the door open, she hears him call behind her.

“See you at ten!”

*

She shows up at 945. She’s sitting on the stairs when he walks out, running a hand through his curls, no doubt to recreate the messy bed head look he’s learned to perfect. When he sees her, he shakes his ruefully.

“Shut up,” she grumbles before standing up. She swears she sees his eyes slide down her body, but he turns away quickly to cover it up. In his defense, she does look good. She hadn’t been intending to dress to the nines, but when she had called Raven for advice she had been fully advocating for the tightest pair of jeans she owns and the most revealing top. She settled somewhere in the middle, going for the jeans, but opting for a loose fitting, off the-shoulder blouse.  

“Finished the all important task you were doing then?” He says instead as they descend the stairs on their way to...wherever the hell they’re going. She assumes it's not to the usual bar. He would have never told her to dress her up. She’s certain she’s seen people dressed in pajamas sitting at the bar which she is totally fan of.

“Yeah, I managed to pencil this into my busy schedule.”

“Oh, I'm so glad you made time for us peasants, Princess,” he tells her sarcastically  and she shoves him playfully on the shoulder. Another new element to their relationship -- playful touches.

“I try to be kind royalty,” she smiles before changing the subject, “So where are you dragging me, anyways?”

He scoffs, “Dragging, is that what I'm doing?”

She gives him a pointed stare.

“Gina likes going to more...I don't know how to describe it. Club-y type places?” his voice rises at the end.

“Like the ones with the obnoxious music and douchebags wearing polos?”

He snaps his fingers, “Those are the one.”

Her mouth twitches, “I guess you'll fit right in.”

It takes her statement a moment to catch and then he realizes that he is, in fact, wearing a polo. And khakis.

“Miller is bringing me an extra shirt, thank you very much.”

They arrive at a place called Ground Bar. She can hear the music as they approach the doors, the windows vibrating with every bass drop. She can say, for certain, she’s never been to this kind of place before. She assumes it’s the sort place exclusive to big cities, not towns like Arkadia. The closest thing she had come to had been her Junior Prom.

“Oh this kind of music,” she remarks. She doesn't hate EDM.  She has a few songs on her jogging playlist. But she can practically feel the migraine coming on. It’s then she realizes she has no idea how to do this.

“Yeah,” he agrees to her insinuation before pulling out his wallet, “Ready to sweat your ass off and pay ridiculous drink prices?”

As if to answer, she pulls her shirt down a little further, revealing a small bit of her cleavage, “I’m ready to make other people pay ridiculous drink prices, if that's what you mean.”

She watches him try to avoid looking, though she can tell he wants to. Maybe she's teasing him a little bit, but it's fun. Just fun.

“That's not fair,” he mutters.

When they enter the club, they manage to spot their group of friends crowded around one of the standing tables, clinking glasses and shouting into the void.

“You made it!” Gina yells, clearly already having had a couple of drinks. She throws her arms around Bellamy, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

He doesn't seemed fazed by it, instead laughing and turning to the rest of the group, “Really? You started her off with tequila?”

Gina turns to her and throws her arms around her neck, causing her to stumble back slightly. She slurs something about being happy she made it and she can’t help but smile back, feeling genuinely complimented that the girl actually wanted her to be a part of it.

“Happy birthday!” she yells over the thumping music.

Clarke settles in next to Harper, who is still mostly sober. The blonde greets her with an enthusiastic half-hug, “You look great!”

She tugs on her hair self-consciously, the curls already beginning to frizz in the humidity of the bar. She had put a little product in it, in the hopes it would stay relatively tame. She can tell it was a failed attempt. She returns Harper’s compliments, commenting on the dress she picked out. It’s a tight fitting black dress that reaches to mid-thigh and hugs her fit figure in all the right spots. She’s paired it with a pair of blue heels and she tosses her long, blonde hair over her shoulder to model for her. She laughs at the girls antics before turning her attention back to the table. Somewhere in the midst of their greetings, he’s managed to change into a more comfortable looking t-shirt. It’s just a simple dark blue shirt, but it compliments him.

He sneaks off to the bar and she listens intently as Gina starts rambling on about the asshole she had been seeing that won’t call her back.

“I’m a great catch,” she slurs, leaning into Miller’s shoulder.

“Yes, you are.” he reassures with a pat on her shoulder.

“Maybe...” Gina’s voice lowers as she pulls her head in towards the group, “Maybe I’m an awful hookup.”

The group attempts to soothe her, even Emori offering a half-hearted, “No, I’m sure you’re great.”

When Bellamy makes his way back to the table, sipping from his overflowing beer, she proceeds to bombard him.

“Be honest!” Gina jabs his chest with her index finger, “Was I bad in bed?”

Clarke finds herself having to purse her lips to suppress a laugh. He looks completely blindsided by the question. More than that, very much unsure of how to answer. His gaze finds hers and she jerks her head towards Gina. The girl is waiting for an answer.

“No!” and she has to give him credit, whether he believes she is or not, his answer seems to brighten her up.

“It’s him then,” she concludes, smacking her palm on the table and rattling their drinks, “He did weird things with his tongue.”

“That’s why girls are better,” Harper offers and Clarke can’t help but high five her on that one. In her experience, girls are more self-aware of what they’re doing. And more apt to take direction.

This launches everyone into the great debate and Harper announces she needs a drink. Clarke decides to follow her to the bar, if only to get away from the drunken attempt at figuring out who’s better at sex. In all honesty, she’s a firm believer that gender has nothing to do with sexual prowess. It’s definitely based on the person, at least, that’s been her experience.

Harper takes her hand and guides her through the crowd and she finds herself having to squeeze in between bodies and having to take a couple of elbows to the boob in the process. Somehow they manage to squeeze into an open spot at the bar and Harper flags down the bartender. She orders a gin and tonic before turning to her.

“Clarke!” she yells to get her attention, “What do you want?”

This is where she didn’t think it through. She doesn’t drink. Not anymore. The whole idea of it makes her sick to her stomach, no doubt residual guilt eating away at her when she even contemplates picking up a drink. Every time she’s gone out with them, thus far, she’s ordered her own drinks at the bar. Usually a coke or a red bull. People just assume they’re alcoholic and she doesn’t feel like correcting them. As for now, she could just order a coke. She doesn’t owe anyone an explanation. But instead she decides to take the safer route, the one that won’t end in a potential interrogation.

“Bourbon and coke,” she announces. From behind Harper, she watches a greasy looking man admires her ass as she leans over the bar and then turns his eyes on her. He’s definitely older than them, probably in his forties. His beard is hinting at gray and he’s wearing an excessive amount of hairgel, something people her age have learned not to do.

“15 dollars, ladies!” the bartender hollers. Clarke makes a show of beginning to dig in her small purse for cash and she feels a rough hand touch her wrist.

“I got it, sweetie,” he says and tells the bartender to put it on his tab. She tries to keep her eye rolling at a minimal and instead offers as sweet a smile as she can give.

“Thanks!” she grabs Harper’s free wrist and drags her away before the creep can try to latch onto them.

It still amazes her how there still seems to be the assumption that if you buy a girl a drink, she’s suddenly in debt to you. Maybe he’ll learn his lesson. At least they got a free drink out of it.

“Was it free?” Bellamy asks when she moves into the spot next to him. She slides the drink to him and he gives her a confused look.

“Free for me, free for you,” she offers without explanation, “Bourbon and coke.”

She sees something pass across his face briefly, but she isn’t quite sure how to place it. Morbid curiosity? Gratitude?.

“You trying to get me drunk?” he has a charm about him, she can admit. The way he carries himself confidently but self-aware. He knows he’s good looking and he knows how to use it. She can’t complain.

They’re teetering into flirtatious territory and she feels herself going along with it, moving a bit closer to him and placing a light hand on his arm, “Definitely.”

She isn’t opposed to flirting with him. In fact, she’s opened up that gate multiple times. There’s just something about him that continues to draw her in without notice. It’s like she tries to remain friendly and distant, but he’s determined to make it as difficult as possible, though she isn’t sure he’s even aware he’s doing it. Based on all his interactions, he’s just a friendly guy. He’s affectionate with all of his friends, constantly teasing them and it could easily be misconstrued as flirting. Maybe that’s what’s happening here?

Their moment is short lived. Gina manages to nearly yank her shoulder out of socket trying to drag her to the dance floor. She practically orders everyone else to follow suit. Bellamy and Miller are the only exceptions, expressing just how vehemently against dancing they are. They prefer to watch the poor souls who don’t have rhythm make fools of themselves.

Clarke has nothing against dancing. She’s always enjoys it when she gets the chance to do it. She doesn’t make a big show, just sways her hips with the music and follows the rhythm. She actually enjoys the song that’s playing so falling into the movement isn’t too difficult. The lights  are overwhelming, a kaleidoscope of colors surrounding them, but once she’s used to them she finds that likes them.

It doesn’t take long for Harper find someone to make out with. She moves into the crowd and Clarke does her best to keep at least a idea of her whereabouts. She’s watched too many true crime series to just let someone fade into the background without ensuring they’re safe. She and Gina are dancing with each other, though Gina is very much outdoing her, tossing her hair and twirling despite her balance being something close to awful. Emori and Murphy are dancing closely next to them, zoned in on one another like the rest of the floor doesn’t exist. The beat begins to pick up and she’s having fun throwing herself into the music until she feels hands grip at her hips.

She whips around to find the guy from the bar grinning at her lecherously. Her stomach takes a sharp turn.  She tries to move away subtly, turning to face him and backing into Gina. She gives him her best smile, like she hadn’t just rejected him but he seems determined. He places his hands on her hips again and pulls her towards him, grinding his pelvis into her. The whole thing feels dirty and strange. She’s done her fair share of bumping and grinding, but usually the consensual kind.This just feels forced and all around terrible.

She places her hand on his chest and pushes back and it’s then that he seems to register that she doesn’t actually want to dance with him. He puts his mouth to her ear, “You let me buy you a drink.”

She pulls back and has to fight the urge to knee him in the balls. She leans towards him, “You offered, I don’t owe you anything.”

He wraps an arm around her waist, the direct opposite of what she was trying to tell him. Gina seems to come to her senses, though she’s a little too tipsy to offer any sort of support. She gets credit for trying.

“She said back off, dude!” she yells, trying to pull Clarke away from him. It doesn’t do anything besides make him more irritated.

“No one asked you,” he yells at her before waving her off like a fly. To Clarke’s surprise, Gina just takes a step back before disappearing in the crowd. She tries to locate Murphy and Emori, but they seemed to have disappeared at some point. Trying to decide what next steps to take, she concludes that he is actual trash and being polite isn’t going to make him let go. So, she rationalizes her next move and as she leans into him and he gives her a sickening smile, she rears her knee back and gets him squarely in the dick. He let’s go immediately.

He bends over in front of her with a yelp and she places a hand on his shoulder before leaning down to get on his level yelling over the music, “Word of advice: when a someone says no, you fucking listen!”

Feeling satisfied with her work, she gives him a small push and he leaves the crowd with his tail tucked between his legs. When she turns around, she finds Bellamy watching her carefully.

He manages to snap his mouth shut and give her grin, “Gina said some guy was being a dick.”

She nods in understanding. She went for help. She gives the girl her credit back, glad that she hadn’t actually left her in the dust.

She lifts her chin, “I can handle myself.”

That only causes his smile to widen, “Clearly.”

She stands there awkwardly for a moment, trying to shrug off the whole incident. A new song has begun and it’s a slower. Seductive almost. Almost instinctively, she begins moving to beat again. She kinks her eyebrow, daring him to join her. She expects him to shake his head and walk away, but as she moves her hips from side to side, she notices the way his eyes darken ever so slightly and he begins to move with her.

Instinctively, she moves in closer to him. It makes her feel a little more comfortable and she expects that no one else will attempt to dance with her, at the least. He seems hesitant at first, his hand only grazing her side. She feels like she’s in a trance. They’re watching each other intently, and she grabs his hand to place it firmly on her hip. Permission granted.

She leans in with a coy smile, “I thought you didn’t dance?”

He places a finger to his lips, “Don’t ruin this once in lifetime opportunity.”

He places his other hand on her and he’s holding her as she moves, letting himself follow her lead. It feels vastly different from her previous encounter. It’s tentative, but they gravitate towards one another. Her hand slides onto his neck, playing with the hairs at the nape and his arm slips around her waist. They press into each other, hips meeting and chests flush together. She’s feeling warm, all of a sudden, heat flooding her cheeks and her stomach. She doesn’t know when the last time she had been this close to someone. But what she does know is that this, the way he’s moving with her and watching her likes she’s something special, is something she doesn’t want to end.

As if thinking the same thing, he leans his forehead onto hers and their breaths mingle with the heat of the dance floor. She licks her lips in anticipation. There is only a second of hesitation as the song begins to fade into something new before he closes the short distance between them and presses his lips against hers. It’s chaste at first, just lips on lips but she tilts her head slightly and when he runs his tongue teasingly at the seam of her lips, she quickly grants him access.

He’s a good kisser, is the first thing that she registers. She gets lost in him almost immediately, the rest of the world completely drowned out, her own racing thoughts silenced. They’re testing the waters, teasing tongues and soft touches. They could be there for moments or hours, she isn’t sure but when they break apart, suddenly everything is too loud.

.

“I need some air,” she breathes and pulls away, trying to make her way from the crowd. Her heart is beginning to race and she feels herself beginning to panic. Her chest is vibrating under the bass and her head feels like it’s pounding. She forces her way out the door, taking a deep breath of fresh air.

Damn, he’s a good kisser.

Her head is a flurry of thoughts, wanting more but also wary of what it means. She leans against the brick building and closes her eyes, trying to ground herself. The air isn’t cool by any means, but there’s a light breeze that’s helping the fire burn low on her cheeks. She’s hears approaching footsteps and doesn’t even open her eyes to see who they belong to. She knows. And she isn’t surprised one bit.

He leans against the wall next to her, shoving his hands in his pocket and just gazing into the parking lot. They stand in silence, both taking in the meaning of the moment on the dance floor. What does it mean, if anything? Where do they go from here?

“Did I fuck up?” he asks finally, his voice low and contemplative.

“No!” she says immediately, her cheeks flaring once again in embarrassment, “You didn't do anything wrong. It was nice…”

Nice is an understatement. It was amazing. Mind-numbing, even. She can’t remember the last time her mind had ever been that quiet, That focused.

“But?” he can already tell there’s more to the statement. There is a but. A very big but. How does she explain it without going into her history? She’s not ready to reveal that part of herself to him, after all, they're nothing but strangers. Intimate strangers.

“I leave for Chicago in August,” she settles, revealing the least personal of reasons why kissing him was a bad idea, “I...I can’t commit to anything.”

He finally looks at her, shaking his head with a grimace, “It was a kiss, Clarke.”

She doesn’t say anything so he continues, turning his body towards her and relaxing against the wall, “I’m not asking for anything. I like you and it can mean whatever you want it to mean.”

What does she want it to mean? She likes him too, she knows that. But can it really be that simple? Like a friends with benefits type thing? They’re hardly friends. But maybe that’s what makes it a good thing.

“How can you like me? You barely know me...”

“Maybe so. Does it matter?”

She thinks about it carefully. If she had any interest in dating him, maybe it would. She'd want him to know everything about her -- her birthday, her history. She’d tell him about Wells. She'd want him to know the finer details. But she can't date him. She has three months in the city and then they're both on were their respective lives. Yet he’s making her an offer-they can just do what they want to do, summer fling. She always thought those were movie cliches but it doesn’t sound like a terrible idea. They’re pretty much together all the time, anyways.

“I guess it doesn't,” is her final answer.

“I know you’re smart, you’re kind of funny, and tough as nails,” he lists them off like they’re no big deal. Like he wasn't complimenting the hell out of her. She realizes that nothing really has to change from what they’re already doing. They had been flirting since they met.

“Kind of funny?” she raises an eyebrow and she swears she sees his shoulders sag in relief. He seems to understand that it’s her way accepting his offer...or whatever it is.

“You’re hot, so it makes up for the lack of humor,” he deadpans and she pinches his arm. He gives her another smile and she decides to go for it. What does she have to lose?

“So, what happens now?” she asks, inching closer to him, lips curving upwards as she grazes her fingers against his arm.

He offers a shy laugh, bringing his hand to the curve of her hip, “Well, for starters, if I kiss you again, are you going to run away?”

She smiles then, “No.”

“Good,” he replies, a slides his other hand onto her cheek and pulls her forward. Their lips are inches apart, “I like kissing you.”

She doesn’t respond, just closes the distance between them. The world goes silent again, her mind a comfortable quiet she could find solace in. It’s the happiest she’s felt in months.

June 2013

Two things change after Gina’s birthday. The first being that she now has everyone’s number and has been added to every chat group known to man. And they talk a lot. It's endearing but also annoying as her phone is constantly buzzing with activity.  The second being that her and Bellamy are friends who make out on occasion. Or all the time. That’s a better description.

She continues to see him in the library and they put away books together, talking about  anything they can, usually keeping the topic neutral and not very personal. She had told him that after a particularly intense make-out session outside of the Ark and he had been cool with it. The less they know about each other, the more casual they can keep it.

They talk about Harper’s currently dating crisis -- apparently the girl from the bar (Roma was her name) is extremely into her and really wants to date her, but Harper also really wanted to play the field this summer. They also talk about school, he tells her about some of his classes and his aspirations. Nothing out of the ordinary for friends. Perfectly comfortable.

At first, she had been wary on how to act with him while they were around his friends, seemingly not wanting to give the wrong impression.They’re all cool and don’t seem like the judgmental type, but she still hadn't been sure.  Bellamy took the reigns on that one after particularly intense game of darts with Emori and Murphy, he snatched her into a victory kiss and  no one cared. They seemed pretty unsurprised by it, in fact. She figures they know Bellamy well enough to know that relationships aren’t his thing, after all they’ve talked about it quite a bit. His longest relationship had been with a girl named Echo and that lasted about three months before he decided it wasn’t for him.

“Maybe I’m just picky,” he defended himself, but everyone chided him on his inability to connect emotionally. It’s somewhat of a relief to know that about him and it’s perhaps why he so willingly agreed to remain as distant as possible. She can’t complain, it makes staying unattached pretty simple.

“Do you know who Two Door Cinema Club is?” he asks her one day as they lounge in one of the book stacks of the library. They’re taking a well deserved break after shelving a large amount of encyclopedias and she has her head resting on his thigh, thumbing through one of the 1940 editions. He’s currently tracing idle circles into her scalp.

“Sure,” she tells him. Wells had always been her musically inclined friend, introducing her to bands and insisting she listen. They had been one of the few groups/bands she found herself actually enjoying.

“I have tickets to their concert tonight,” he tells her and she doesn’t think much of it. Maybe he’s trying to brag. He likes to do that, she’s learned. He plays the cocky asshole well.

“That’s cool.”

“Miller was supposed to come with me,” he continues, “But he went home.”

Miller’s family lives in Amherst, the most boring town in the world according to Bellamy, but she’s noticed he seems to be a bit dramatic.

“Everything okay?” she asks. She imagines he wouldn’t ditch without good reason. If there’s anything she’s learned about Miller it’s that he’s reliable.

“His dog is sick. He’s old,  so you know...”

If she remembers correctly, his dog had been his screensaver on his phone and he had drunkenly told her all about him. His name is Ammo and he’s pretty fucking cute. It’s also adorable how much Miller cares about him. He’d had him since he was a kid.

“Poor guy.”

Bellamy hums and pulls his clipboard over to idly scratch out the returns he’s shelved, “What I’m trying to say is, I have an extra ticket if you’re interested.”

Oh. It sounds vaguely like a date. Her heart thumps aggressively against her ribcage at the thought.

“It’s not a date,” he seems to read her mind, “It’s just convenient that you like them and I have a ticket already paid for.”

“And you want to go with me?” she wishes she weren’t so self-deprecating.  It shouldn’t come as a surprise. It’s very obvious now that he enjoys her company, and only partially because she’s a good kisser. Or so she assumes. She’s never had anyone else tell her otherwise.

“You were definitely my last choice.”

“Well, in that case,” she leans up to give him a pointed stare, “I’d hate for you to have to go alone. Knowing you, you’d probably find some unsuspecting introvert to prey on.”

The venue isn’t far from Midtown, so they make plans to meet at her mom’s place. She gives him the address and she watches his eyebrows shoot into his hairline.

“You're kidding,” he deadpans and she sighs, praying that he’s not another person who will decide to judge her based on wealth.

“We can leave around 6:30,” is all she responds.

“Damn,” he whistles when he shows up at the apartment, “You weren’t kidding.”

He’s fiddling with one of her mom’s weird fake plants while she slips on her shoes.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s amazing,” she practically shoves him out the door, not wanting him to spend too much time going over the historical artifacts lying around the apartment. She’s also not a fan of showing off money, which her mom’s apartment does quite a bit. It’s Not her thing.

They make it to the venue about thirty minutes before the concert, thanks to a very new Uber driver taking the wrong route and getting them lost. She thinks it’s funny, but doesn’t mind when the driver tells them to forget the payment and drives off.

“I’m not really big into standing at the front anyways,” Bellamy says when they walk inside to see a fairly decent crowd smashed against the stage.

“Me either,” she agrees, “Grab a drink and hang in the back?”

“You’re speaking my language.”

That’s how they spend the entire concert, leaning against a table and nodding along to the music. She dances a little, enjoying the infectious rhythm of their songs. When they play her favorite song, Sun, she can’t help but join into the jumping and maybe one or two hair whip’s makes it out. She wore her hair down for a reason.

He watches her amused, though makes no effort to join in. He did tell her the dancing was a rare thing for him. It’s fine, she enjoys dancing alone anyways.

When he steps away to grab a drink during a small break, the band has an issue with an instrument and arere in the process of tuning their back up. She’s fairly engrossed in watching them until she turns to make a comment to Bellamy and realizes he hasn’t come back. When she turns towards the bar, she sees him engaged in conversation with a tall brunette who’s putting on all the stops. She throws her head back with a laugh, looking like she belongs in a Crest commercial, and places a hand on his shoulder. Clarke feels something pull at her stomach but does her best to ignore it. He has every right in the world to flirt and have fun. They’re friends. Friends who like to kiss sometimes and she’s perfectly content with that.

She decides to move slightly closer to the crowd and engage a little more. They seem like a calm bunch. There’s been minimal pushing and some fairly tame dancing. She’ll fit right in. The next song starts and it’s one of their older ones. The crowd goes wild and she finds herself engrossed in the fist pumping, mouthing the words along with the person standing next to her.

When she feels a hand on the small of her back, she nearly pulls up her knee in reflex. But then she sees dark curls out of the corner of her eye and relaxes.

“Couldn’t resist, huh?” Bellamy says into her ear, her original idea of hanging out in the back and watching long lost. She gives him an innocent shrug. She ignores the fact that the knot that had been sitting in her stomach releases at the sight of him. It’s no big deal. He rolls his eyes but to her surprise, he starts to dance with her. It’s nothing much, just bobbing his head and swaying, but seeing him dance is not as rare an occurrence as he claimed. She tries not to feel satisfied by that.

They spend the rest of their night in the crowd and by the time they leave, they’re a sweaty mess. She pulls her hair up into the bun, desperate to get the hair from sticking to her neck. She hates the way it feels.

“They were amazing,” she gushes, pushing a loose hair from her forehead. He nods in a agreement and watches the crowd begin to scatter. She pulls out her phone to order the Uber and hesitates.

“Would it be easier to drop you off first or me?” she asks. She plans on paying for it, to equalize the fact that he brought her along, so she finds a solution that makes sense, “You, probably.”

“You could come home with me,” he says and she nearly snaps her neck looking up from where she had been typing the address in. He watches her reaction warily, “If you want.”

They haven’t crossed that line yet. They have only hung out in the presence of others, whether the general public or his close friends. It’s not like she hasn’t thought about it. In fact, when his tongue is down her throat and his hands are splayed across the small of her back, she thinks about it quite a lot. She’s trying to make better choices, to stop resolving her issues with sex and drinking and whatever destructive behavior she can come up with. None of those things would bring Wells back. Would stop people from hurting her.

But she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel the temptation. She thinks about going home, to the dark and empty home, to another cold pizza on the counter from her mom, trying to make up for her absence. She thinks about the aching loneliness she feels when she’s stuck inside with nothing to distract her from reality. She looks at him and he’s watching her with reserved hopefulness and suddenly the answer is easy.

“Sure,” she finally says and types his address into the Uber destination bar. They stand in a comfortable silence waiting for it to pull up. Not ten minutes later are they in the back of the car and he’s debating the ethics of surge prices. He had caught a glimpse of her phone and saw the “3x” symbol next to the pricing and decided that this particular Uber driver deserved to hear his lecture on price gouging.

“Bellamy, it’s fine,” she groans, sensing the discomfort of the driver, “Write a letter to the CEO or something!”

He concedes with a dramatic sigh and she pats his leg sympathetically. She’s learned that he tends to work himself up about the smallest things, but she’s happy he’s easy to redirect. She slides her hand from his thigh and twines her fingers into his to give them another reassuring squeeze. That’s the thing about Bellamy. He’s an affectionate guy, free with his touches and often times has no semblance of personal space. He’s that way with all of his friends, often times hanging an arm around Miller or placing a chaste kiss on Harper’s forehead. He enjoys the contact of others and she can’t say she’s opposed.

There surge price debate becomes forgotten. The drive isn’t long and they pull up to a small brick house in a quiet neighborhood, vastly different from what she’s experienced thus far in the city. She likes it.

“It’s not much,” he says as he unlocks the front door and pushes it open, “But it’s home.”

It’s not big by any means. A two bedroom, single floor house. It’s a bit run down, paint chipping from the walls but well decorated and clean. She follows him through the hallway and into the living room, where it is joined with the small kitchen. She’s impressed by how well matched everything is. Most college students have mismatched cheap furniture. They haveat least  put thought into their living room set.

“Most of it is Miller’s,” he breaks the silence, “He’s a bargain hunter. Got the couch and the chair for like 200 bucks on Craigslist.”

“Smart guy,” she responds. She moves to settle on the couch and grabs the book currently lying open on the coffee table.

“Are you seriously reading this again?” it’s a tattered copy of The Iliad, a book that she knows he’s read at least ten times- He’s told her as much.

“I like it,” he counters and snatches from her hands, delicately marking his page and placing it on the bookshelf next to the tv. She’s not surprised to see the shelf is filled with books, some clearly textbooks and others well read editions of classics. He seriously is a nerd but it’s kind of endearing.

When he flops onto the couch next to her, he picks up the remote to mess with the TV, “What do you want to watch?”

“Just turn something on,” she says casually and decides she might as well lay it all out on the table, “We probably won’t watch it much anyway.”

“Are you insinuating a Netflix and chill?” he asks sounding appalled, though his eyes seem to hold a sparkle when he looks at her.

“Don’t you have to have Netflix for that?” she asks dryly.

“Yeah,” he replies, “But Hulu and chill just doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

He finds a show on the front page of Hulu and clicks play, “Did you know Nick Offerman has his own woodworking shop in real life?”

The familiar theme song of Parks and Rec begins to play and smiles slightly, “You don’t say.”

He sets the remotes on the table and glances at her, “He’s also a skilled saxophone player.”

He’s nervous. She peeks at him through her peripherals and he’s stared fixedly at the television, habitually picking at his nails. That’s his tell. His sudden anxiety gives her a bit of her own. Maybe he hadn’t brought her over here for anything other than to hang out. Maybe she had misread the whole situation. But then she thinks about the way he kisses her, like he wants to consume her completely. The way he touches her so freely, like it's the most natural thing in the world. They’ve already agreed upon a no strings relationship, even if it was only in reference to kissing and heavy groping. She imagines that going further will be under the same rules.

She humors him and turns her attention back to the television, pretending to be fascinated by what Andy’s currently doing. She laughs, because dammit Andy Dwyer is hilarious. She hears him chuckle as well.

“Did you know he was only supposed to be in season one?”

The fact that he knows so much about the show doesn’t surprise her. He seems like the kind of guy to get on IMDB and read the trivia facts, which, she’s not judging because she has admittedly done the same. But is now really the time? She scoots closer to him so that their thighs are pressing together.

“It was supposed to be a spinoff of the Office,” his voice deepens a little and she sees his throat bob nervously.

“Bellamy,” she finally says, exasperation clear in her voice. Finally he looks at her, and she notices the way his pupils have gone dark, the way they did when they had been dancing. He’s definitely interested.

She hears the familiar voice of Tom Haverford and Bellamy points at the screen half-heartedly, “He went to business school.”

Deciding that she might as well make the first move, she moves into his lap placing her thighs on either side of his so she’s straddling his legs. She feels his hands slide onto her hips, “I am basically offering myself on a silver platter here and you want to tell me Parks and Rec trivia?”

He leans his forehead against hers, lips dangerously close, “I didn’t want it to seem like I brought you here just to hook up.”

She snorts, “Even though you did.”

“Whatever,” he says, “I’m trying to be a gentleman, Clarke.”

The last thing she says before crushing her lips to his is, “Fucking nerd.”

Seriously, she could kiss him for hours. Not only for the solace it gives her, but also because he’s very skilled with his lips. He can go from lazy to passionate to sensual in about three seconds flat and honestly, he could, quite possibly be the best kiss she’s ever had. She won’t confirm that, though. She wouldn’t want to stroke his ego any more.

However, when she thought it couldn’t get much better, it turns out he had been holding out. Being in the privacy of his own place without fear of interruption or the stigma surrounding PDA, he’s much hungrier. He nips at her lower lip before moving his own to the hollow of her throat and the sensitive parts of her neck. She can’t help the moan that escapes when he finds a sweet spot just behind her ear. The sound seems to drive him more.

She can feel his building excitement between her legs and she finds that she’s not worried or intimidated by it. It actually causes her own to grow. It amazes her how he’s able to drive her to this point with his lips alone. Instinctively, she grinds down into him and he sucks her bottom lip in between his teeth, grazing it and driving her completely mad.  When she pulls back, her lips are red and swollen from the large amount of attention they’ve received but she isn’t quite ready to let them rest. When he seems ready to say something, she leaves a hot and wet kiss on his jawline. His hand creeps under her shirt and she flinches as his thumb nearly grazes the puckered scar on her back.

“Sorry…” he says quickly, snatching his hand from its place on her bare back. She gives him an apologetic smile.

“It’s fine,” she reassures him. It caught her by surprise and though she may be ready to cross some boundaries with him, letting him feel that part of her isn’t one of them. She feels her mind beginning to race again, thoughts of that night beginning to flash through her mind. She kisses him fiercely, trying to drown them out once more. He lets his hands travel her body, though this time remaining firmly above the shirt. He grazes her breasts and she feels her self-control begin to waiver. A want she’s never felt before settles into her stomach.

“Bellamy,” she groans when his hand brushes her breast and she feels them harden at the slightest touch.

“Tell me what you want,” he growls into her ear, lust coating his voice..

She stops thinking at this point, letting herself follow the moment for what it is. She’s picking up what he’s laying down, he’s putting the ball in her court.

“You,” she breathes, “To touch me. Everywhere.”

She lets out a loud yelp when he stands up, gripping her ass in his hands to keep her firmly attached to him. She wraps her legs around his waist and allows him to carry her off to, she presumes, his bedroom. She nuzzles his shoulder and lets out a giddy laugh when he drops her on his bed and she takes a couple bounces. The room is illuminated only by the dim lights coming through the blinds. She finds comfort in the dark,. They can be strangers here.

“Miller would kill me if I tainted the couch,” he explains and pulls his shirt over his head and though her eyes are still adjusting, she can see the smoothness of his chest and the tone of his abdomen. She can see the muscle definition and the way it disappears below his waistline. She does her best not to drool.

“Like what you see?” he asks smugly, her desire clearly written on her face.

“Eh,” she responds, trying her best to sound unfazed. He climbs on top of her and attaches his lips to her neck, sucking the spot he knows drives her absolutely mad.

“You’re alright,” she says half-heartedly and he grinds into her for good measure.

He leans up and she moves with him, lifting her arms in the air indicating she wants her shirt off. He obliges and pulls the offending piece of fabric off, tossing it  to the floor with a soft thump. Thank God she wore her good bra today.

He watches her for a moment, taking it all in and runs his hands along her sides. Goosebumps follow the trail of his finger and he leans down to kiss her, slower this time.

“Have I mentioned you’re fucking beautiful?” he asks and the reverie in which he says it stuns her for a moment. Of course he’s called her cute plenty of times, but the way he says this feels...intimate. Like he really finds her to be the most beautiful creature on the Earth. It’s a bit intimidating and she tries to pretend her heart doesn’t flutter in her chest when he says it.

She twines her fingers into his hair scraping at the curls on his neck and then they’re kissing again while their hands are everywhere. She slides hers into the waistband of his jeans, tracing along his hip bones and she swears she feels him shudder under her fingertips. He reaches behind her back and skillfully unhooks her bra with one hand, finally allowing her chest to be free. He wastes no time, first palming at her breasts and  replacing his hand(s?) with lips. He swirls his tongue around her nipple and she almost comes from that contact alone. He pays equal amount of attention to both nipples.breasts/etc and she’s forced to rub her thighs together to get some sort of friction down there. She’s already on the edge and he hasn’t even fully touched her yet.

She tries to hasten the process of clothes removal by reaching down to unbutton her own jeans and he takes the hint, hooking his own fingers into her belt loops and sliding them down her thighs along with her underwear. She’s fully exposed to him now and he looks nothing short of amazed. He reaches in between them and touches her gently, causing her legs to twitch. His touches are soft, first running a gently thumb over her folds and she can’t help but groan in frustration.

“You wet for me?” he’s smirking now, loving the way her body begs for him.

“Yes,” she breathes, “Please just…”

“What do you want, Clarke?” he applies more pressure to her now and she pulls her hips up to meet him as he begins to circle her clit.

“Fuck!” is all she manages to get out but he seems to understand perfectly.

He pushes her thighs apart, his thumb still working her and slides down on the bed, kissing her hip bone as he goes, “Just so you know, I’m really into foreplay.”

She doesn’t have a chance to respond before he replaces his finger with his mouth. Just as suspected, he’s just as good with his mouth down there. His tongue slides smoothly along her sex while his fingers move in and out. She slides a hand into his hair, gripping it a little tighter than she means to when he grazes his teeth along her. Apparently, he appreciates her enthusiasm because he buries his face further into her and she’s falling apart with a loud moan.  He takes her through the entire orgasm, lapping up her juices like he’s never tasted anything  like it.  When he leans up, he wipes his mouth with the back of his arm before giving her a proud smile.

“Really into foreplay,” he reiterates and she offers a weak laugh before pulling him down for a kiss. She can taste herself on his lips. Deciding he deserves a similar show of affection for his effort, she perks up to her knees and gently pushes his shoulders back.

“Well, in that case,” she husks and reaches down to pop the button on his jeans. He helps her get them off and his erection springs free, waiting for her next move. She wraps a delicate hand around him, feeling him out for the first time. Not that she has a whole lot to compare it to, but she can already see he’s well equipped. She wraps her hand around him and slides it up and down slowly, testing him out. His hand grips the bed a little tighter. She should be more nervous than she is, after all this isn’t something she normally does, but she can’t remember ever being this turned on. She hardly has time to think and finds herself doing what comes naturally. In this case, she doesn’t hesitate to run her lips along the length of his erection before completely taking him in.

“Fuck,” he growls out, threading his fingers in her hair. She’s not very experienced in the blow job department, but she also never had any complaints. Either way, she wants to pleasure him as much as he pleasured her.

“Tell me what you like.” She says, pulling up for a moment to give him another seductive smile.

And he does. When she does something he likes, he makes sure she knows. Whether it’s grunting in pleasure or telling her how much he likes seeing her with his cock in her mouth. When he’s not reacting at all, she knows it’s not for him. She continues for a solid five minutes before he pulls her up.

“Not that...I mean I’m not expecting,” he’s the one having trouble forming coherent sentences now and she can’t help but feel satisfied with her work, “Guys don’t rebound like girls do.”

She has no idea what he’s talking about so he tries to clarify, “I’m...close and I don’t want it to be over...you know, before we get started?”

He’s getting flustered and she can’t help but laugh. He groans, clearly frustrated by his lack of cohesiveness.

“I’m just trying to say if you want to have sex and good sex, you shouldn’t keep going.”

She doesn’t answer for a moment, and not really because she doesn’t know what to say but because her mind is pretty hazy as well. She was perfectly content to finish him this way, letting him cum in her mouth because she knows it would blow his mind and she doesn’t really have an aversion to it.  But, selfishly, she definitely wants to know what he feels like inside of her.  

“Did I fuck up? I mentioned sex...fuck. I don’t want you to think that’s all I want….I,” she kisses him mid ramble.

“Relax,” she says when she pulls away, “I’m happy with sex or I’m happy to finish you off like this. What do you want?”

He considers her for a moment before he grips her hip firmly, “I really want to fuck you.”

She never thought she’d be into the dirty talk, but damn if he didn’t sound good when he told her all the filthy things he wanted to do to her.

“Condoms?” she asks and he points to his nightstand. She fumbles around in the drawer, keeping one hand firmly around his shaft so he stays hard, and pulls one from the drawer. She tears the wrapper open with her teeth and he moans at the sight. She just grins as she rolls the condom onto him. Just as she’s about to sink down on top of him, he flips her onto her back.

“I said I want to fuck you,” he clarifies and sinks into her with one long push. And it feels better than she could have ever imagined.

“Oh God,” she gasps as he fills her up, sinking her nails into his shoulder.  

He starts of with slow strokes, pushing in and out at a tantalizing speed. She never thought herself to be loud or anything, but her breath is coming out in raspy moans and they get a little louder as the momentum increases. She pulls her hips up to meet him, flexing her inner walls when he’s completely inside of her.

“You feel so good,” he’s whispering into her ear, face buried in her neck and one hand firmly wrapped around her back, “Amazing, Clarke, so fucking good.”

She hikes her leg up and he slides it over his shoulder and the angle causes her to nearly scream. She grips his arm as he picks up speed and before she even feels it building, she’s falling apart again, shaking beneath him and crying out his name into the dark room. It only takes him a couple more pushes before she feels him come undone as well and he collapses on top of her with a groan.

She runs a hand idly through his hair and he doesn’t move for a good minute or two. Finally, as though he has to muster up the rest of his strength he rolls off of her and removes the condom, idly searching for the trash can near his bed.

“Fuck.” he says when sinks back down into the pillows. It’s a simple statement. She isn’t sure what it means. Wow? I fucked up? Or maybe, You were amazing?

“Fuck.” she agrees. She isn’t sure what she means by it either. She’s satisfied and the usual guilt that comes from these sort of hookups doesn’t come. She doesn’t regret it.

He turns to look at her and gives her a lazy smile, “Was that okay?”

He isn’t asking if he was okay in bed or if she’s satisfied. He’s asking if they stepped over any boundaries. If they violated the terms of their unspoken agreement.

“I’m okay,” she answers firmly, “You?”

He lets out a low chuckle, “I’m great.”

Neither makes a move to get closer to the other, which is fine by her. Cuddling seems too intimate in this moment and she almost laughs at the contradiction of it all. She can have sex with someone and still feel far away. But if there is cuddling, well, that’s just not allowed. She leans up and finds her discarded shirt on the ground, pulling it over her head in one swift motion, determined to cover up. She feels all too exposed and uncertain. What happens now?

“Relax,” he tells her, again seemingly reading her mind with ease. She hates how well he can read her already. It’s not fair.

“I’m still not going to ask you to marry me, Clarke,” it’s a reference to the conversation they had when they first kissed, “We’re friends. We had sex. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that.”

“You’re okay with that?” She feels like she has to ask. He hasn’t indicated anything to the contrary, but she can’t help but still be a little paranoid about it. The last thing she wants is to hurt him. That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? She has a record of hurting people. She doesn’t want to add anymore names to the list.

“Getting laid on the regular without having to suffer through the relationship part that I know I’m not good at?” when she doesn’t respond, he clarifies, “I’m definitely okay with that.”

It doesn’t feel normal at this moment. That’s usually not something girls want to hear after sex, but to her, it’s a relief.

“Who said it’s happening again?”

He leans up onto his elbow, and opens his knees so that’s he’s practically posing for her, “You know you can’t resist.”

“You just think you’re hot shit, don’t you?” she teases, pushing his shoulders so that he’s on his back and she’s pinning him to the bed.

“Absolutely.”

“Well if you do manage to convince me to do it again,” she says dramatically, “Maybe it would be a good idea to set like...rules or something?”

He slides his hands onto her bare thighs and she has to suppress a shiver threatening to run up her spine, “What kind of rules?”

“I don’t know, to make sure we’re on the same page.”

“I’m listening.”

They manage to agree on three things.

No staying the night.

No cuddling (which he was reluctant to agree to because he likes cuddling almost as much as he likes foreplay.)

No falling in love (or feelings beyond lust.

He walks her out that night and gives her a chaste kiss on the cheek with a simple request that she let him know when she arrives safely home. She does. She crawls into bed, her body exhausted from the long day. Normally, it takes her hours to fall asleep. Her fear of the nightmares often keeping her awake long into the night.

She falls asleep almost as soon as her head hits the pillow.

[historicalriches]

Spotlights || Part 6

Can you believe in the year of our lord?

2017?

I actually am still writing this????

Me either. 

I beta’d myself this chapter so probably there are gonna be errors somewhere but hot damn I have another +3k words after this I’m working on so this part is getting published now.

~

Part 1 - Here

Part 2 - Here

Part 3 - Here

Part 4 - Here

Part 5 - Here

Part 6 - You Are Here!

~

Paring: Rich History/VladxClockwork

~

The portal closed behind him with a sense of finality. He was going to be here a while, and he knew it. Vlad took a moment to himself, to come to terms with the disaster that seemed to hit the two of them out of nowhere. No doubt his assets would be frozen, his companies would suffer as well, however he made an emergency plan long ago in order to protect them. If he were to become… less than favorable to the public then his position would fall to Daniel.

Not optimal, the boy didn’t know a single thing about the business world, but at least it would keep the poachers from trying to take the position of CEO for themselves.

“This is hell.” He breathed to himself before flying off towards the tower. The look on his face must have been a hell of a thing because any ghost even remotely in his way sped away the moment they saw him. It wasn’t too long before he found the tower, it shimmered into existence as soon as he hit the outskirts of the more populated areas of the zone. Clockwork was already waiting for him out front, looking rather frazzled to say the least. “Thank the stars you're back.”

Actually, frazzled didn’t cover it. Clockwork was a complete mess. It was as unnerving as the first time Vlad had seen him lose his composure. Vlad didn’t fear for his own safety in these rare moments of distress, but it did take a lot to get under the ghost’s skin. It reminded him just how serious this situation was, how close they had come to so much worse.

He wordlessly pulled the ghost into a hug. Clockwork hugged him back tightly, looking like he didn’t want to let go for the rest of all time.

But he had to.

Vlad had to run damage control and it was better to do it now, rather than later.

“Vlad...” The time ghost spoke softly.

“Mhm?”

“We need to get to work.”

“... I know.” He reluctantly let go. Where even to start? He and took out his cellphone and powered it on. It looked like he did receive service here.

Small blessings.

“Is there any advice you can give me or is it all rather muddled at this point?” He knew that Clockwork’s ability to see his future was getting worse and worse the longer they were together. Hopefully it wasn’t completely gone at this point.

“It's mostly a blur. Do call your lawyer first, I can’t be certain but timelines where you do feel a bit more positive.”

Vlad heaved a sigh as the floated inside. This was going to be a fun conversation to have.

Of course his lawyer picked up on the first ring, with everything going on it was to be expected.

“Vladimir Masters you have some explaining to do, and you better make it good.” The voice on the other side rang out quite clearly. Yeah, this was just going to be heaps of fun.

“This is the new burner phone, right Gregory?” Vlad confirmed before saying anything else. He had to cover his bases first and while he was confident in the man’s ability, he was also very aware that anyone with ties to him was most likely being monitored.

“No, I am completely incompetent and the Feds are listening to every word we say.” The sarcasm was palpable, but he finally relented. “Yes, and as far as I know they think you’re trapped in the rubble so they aren’t looking too closely at anyone else yet.”

“Oh how pleasant.” Nice to know they were thinking he was trapped or dead. “You really need to work on your attitude you know. As your boss I really should take offense to your tone.” Vlad replied lamely, not knowing what else he could say.

“Yeah? Find another lawyer in the world that would put up with your shit and then we’ll talk. Now explain. I wake up to see you not only have a boyfriend which, fine, that's easy to work with. Public favor is mostly on your side there, but give me a day before you go public with it so I have the right laws and protections on hand. Is that so much to ask?”

“No.. but-”

“I'm not done yet Masters.” Greg cut in before Vlad could get out another word. “Like I said the boyfriend thing is workable. But you went and broke a reporter’s nose. I want an official apology on that-”

He didn’t owe that shit biscuit an apology, he wasn’t sorry for that and he never would be!

“Wait just one-”

“When I am finished speaking. Now both of those are enough to give me a headache but then we have this… photo… of you and this ghost. This ghost that looks an awful lot like your boyfriend if he were… y’know, dead.”

“It's a bad photoshop.” Vlad said automatically.

“No it isn't. Negatives were provided and no alterations were evident.”

“Negatives… who the hell still uses film cameras?” Probably the same crazy bastard that climbed a story to get the shot Vlad guessed. Damn.

“Tell me the truth, I need to know all the facts so I can figure out how to turn this disaster into something I can defend.”

Vlad hesitated, then sighed.

“He's... a ghost.”

There was dead silence and then a long sigh. “Dude… what the fuck.”

“Language.”

“Language yourself you motherfucking spirit fucker. Out of all the bullshit you’ve made me put up with over the years this… this tops it all. You are paying me triple for this one and you are buying me a vacation home. One of those rich ones. In Hawaii.”

“Okay, triple pay and a fancy house, fine. I will send you the pin for the door-”

“For what door? The house is a pile of rubble.”

He had forgotten about that. Great.

“Okay go into the lab then.”

Clockwork, who had been very quiet up until this point raised an eyebrow. “You locked the po-”

“I know.”

“There's a couple thousand on the shelf next to the portal. That should hold you until it's safe for me to go get the rest.”

“Okay… let's get down to the finer points.”

“Alright.”

“Did you know the guy was a ghost?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how damn difficult this is going to be considering your very public political stances?”

“Yes.” Oh he knew, he had been trying to quietly backtrack on some of the worst stuff but there wasn’t any way that was happening now.

“Right… so how serious is this?”

He knew that question was coming from a mile away but it still made him just a little peeved. If nothing else, then for Clockwork’s sake. He wouldn’t just up and leave the ghost over something like this.

“Very.” He finally answered.

“No likelihood of it breaking off?”

“No Greg. None whatsoever.” Vlad answered with a firm conviction in his tone.

“I had to ask.” There was a long sigh on the other end. “You make my job a goddamn nightmare Masters.”

“Okay… here’s what we do, play it from the angle that you have been in this relationship for a long time. Your stances against ghosts were an attempt to draw suspicion from your personal life. You draw up sympathy about how you had to hide your relationship and how yesterday was your first try at a proper date in public. Emotions were running high when you hit the reporter and we get that dismissed on a heat of the moment action.” By the sound of a pen scratching furiously on paper he was making notes for his own reference as he talked. “Some sleezy reporter then trespasses on your private property and took a picture of you when you were unaware. You are dismayed and hurt that someone would do that and you and… what's the spook’s name?” Vlad looked over to Clockwork with a frown. He had a reputation to keep up as well.

“Michael Mithra. That is the name we are using.” They already had enough to worry about without throwing ghost politics into the mix.

“Okay, Michael. Both of you need to release a statement. A press conference would be best but I’ll leave it up to your PR team. The press is fucking ravenous right now. You have internet wherever the hell you are?”

“Yes.” Clockwork answered before Vlad could question it.

“Alright. I'll announce that you will be updating people in an hour. You think you can keep the story straight?”

“Yes. It's doable… if rather cliche.”

“It's the best I can do. Give me some warning and you won't be stuck with such a piss poor cover.”

“Duly noted. I suppose we should be getting ready then. I will call you back on this phone after the meeting.”

“Just one more thing Vlad.”

“Hm?”

“Where are you hiding out?”

“The… ghost zone.”

“Of-fucking-course.”

End Part 6

Part 7 - Coming Soon! (No really it is this time!)

[salmankhanholics]

★ INTERVIEW: Salman Khan On Ghosts Of His Past, Attempts Of Image Rehabilitation, And Why Critics Don't Matter !

In an exclusive interview, Khan opens up like never before.

15/06/2017 | Ankur Pathak

It's no secret that Salman Khan has a rather whimsical equation with the press. Whenever I have seen him at events and press conferences, the actor either appears distracted and zoned out or the opposite: funny, attentive, and in the mood to have a baller time.

On Wednesday evening at Bandra's Taj Lands End, Salman is busy gorging on keema pao, straight from the containers of the buffet spread. At the same time, he's also talking to a journalist, calling Pritam, the music composer, 'lethargic and lazy.'

While I worry he'll be his usual inattentive self, Salman, dressed in a black tee and a black denim, takes a smoke break. His film, Tubelight, is days away from release and the pressure is palpable. Khan's eyes look droopy, his gait, tired. He is not only acting in the film but also producing and distributing it.

After waiting for over two hours (that'd come at the cost of standing up a date), Khan sits with me for a chat. Excerpts:

Kabir Khan's Tubelight once again portrays you as a sincere, innocuous, do-gooder who's just too nice to do any wrong -- a trend that started with Bajrangi Bhaijaan and was seen in Prem Ratan Dhan Payo too. What draws you to these characters?

Like you said, the niceness of it. But with Tubelight, my agenda is different -- after the film, I want brothers, who may not have spoken to one another in months and years, to call each other up and forget the differences, if they had any. I want them to be so emotionally overcome that they just let past differences aside and say, "Hey man, let's party." Many times, in our families, we end up cutting ourselves away from our siblings. Sometimes the issues are trivial, sometimes serious. But why let it affect you? I hope Tubelight can achieve that. It touches on those emotions. This film is beautifully shot. It's also styled very well by Lepakshi Ellawadi, who did Sultan and is doing Tiger Zinda Hai.

But Salman, do you actually believe films can end family feuds and change people's lives?

Absolutely. I've seen films that have changed my life. And trust me, if a film can change me, out of all people, a film can change anyone. It is the only medium that has such a huge influence on your psyche. When you sit in that dark room and see a character, you are also internally absorbing its ideas and traits.

When you see nobility being projected by a hero, you are inspired to emulate it. This is one of the reasons why I haven't ever played a negative character. Negativity in a character doesn't impress me. Say if you have a character who earns a living through corrupt means, man, that puts me off. I will never play a dark character. Underdogs impress me. Those who make it against all odds impress me. I want to tell their stories.

But doesn't that limit you as an actor? A lot of great performances in cinema have come from actors who've played dark, twisted, villainous roles.

Well, I don't know. From the stuff I do, a Dabangg is a character that is sort of, somewhere-in-between. His intentions are good, actions aren't all that good. So you try and balance that off. My next, Tiger Zinda Hai, also veers in the grey area. I am also doing a crazy dance film. So while I do wanna portray characters which are inherently nice, I don't want them to be one-dimensional. It has to have style and swag and some depth.

While your popularity in the country is undeniably huge, I believe there is a certain section in the audience who aren't your fans and perhaps, they'll never be. While some don't want to be seen endorsing your brand of cinema, some will find hard to appreciate even a good film only because you are in it. A lot, I think, has to do with the notoriety of your past.

Well, I don't know. I move around and meet all sorts of people but funnily, I have never been told that. Neither have I noticed that. But if you say so, all I can say is that I will probably have to work that much harder to win them over. I know it won't happen overnight but I can only hope that some day they'll warm up to me as an artist.

Do you feel you are unfairly judged by your critics?

I genuinely, honestly don't care. I believe that they've no right to take anybody's hard work down. The fans will decide that, in any case. The box-office will prove it one way or the other. What have you done to earn the right to rip a film apart? On Day 1 of the release, you write some rubbish crap. It destroys films and a lot of hard work that went behind making it. With me, of course, it doesn't make any difference. And I think they know it all too well. My films are critic-proof. I am telling them now: go give my film minus 100 stars, why just zero. Let's see how that pans out. My fans will anyway watch my film and that's my reward. It only makes them look like a bunch of idiots.

My films are critic-proof. I am telling them now: go give my film minus 100 stars, why just zero. Let's see how that pans out. My fans will anyway watch my film and that's my reward. It only makes them look like a bunch of idiots.

I am pretty sure that our critics aren't under the delusion that they can influence the market of a Salman Khan film. What I want to know is -- what is your analysis? Why do you think they are so insanely crazy about Salman? I cannot even send a negative tweet about you without getting massively trolled by this insane sub-culture of bhaifans.

I don't know. Maybe they think I'm one of them. Maybe they think I am just a regular dude who's chill and approachable and has no airs of being a superstar. And I have remained like that right from the start. I lived in Indore in a boarding school until the age of 16. That really grounded me. I hung around on the streets, went to the farms. There's nothing fancy about my life. I like cycling around the city, I hop into an auto-rickshaw now and then. I don't drive a big car -- I hate big cars. Maybe that, along with the kind of films I do, make them think I'm, I don't know, accessible in a way?

I don't drive a big car -- I hate big cars.

Perhaps. It's hard to decode stardom.

It is. I just think I am a guy who lucked out. Mostly because of the family I was born in. I am immensely fortunate to have the kind of family and friends and the fans I have. Some people come to me and tell me that their children are yet to talk but if they see a Salman Khan song, they jump, react, laugh. They can recall me by my name. Earlier it used to be Prem and Chulbul but now it's Salman.

I don't get it. There are children and youngsters who idolize you and have deified you. They look up to you, want to emulate you, carry your style. But I believe you're obviously a very flawed person to idolize. You've had some very serious court cases against you. Why should anybody just forget and forgive and move on to your next blockbuster?

Everybody has a past. Does that make you a bad person for life? In my case, there is deliberate malice. When people go after you for something you have not done, it's bad. Next thing you know you are running around courts and people are judging you.

For 20 years. 20 years is a long time, man. It's a lot of years. It takes a toll on you and your family. The financial toll on our family because of the cases has been huge.

For 20 years. 20 years is a long time, man. It's a lot of years. It takes a toll on you and your family. The financial toll on our family because of the cases has been huge.

When I was a nobody I had nothing. (Pauses) When I become somebody, I got the magistrate court. When I become slightly bigger, I got the High Court, then. And now when I am in this position, I have the Supreme Court.

Well, something awful did happen. It's not going to leave you.

It will leave me. It's God's way of anchoring me down. If these things didn't happen, I would have lost the plot by now. That's how I see it. It's my journey and whatever it takes, I will go through it. Thankfully, I have family and friends who've stood by me and pointed out whatever happened wasn't correct.

How do you deal with these ghosts of the past, Salman?

I don't have any ghosts. These ghosts have been created by people who are running businesses on them. There are so many incidents like mine that happened and nobody ever talks about them. Whenever there's a hit-and-run that happens anywhere, they drag me into it all over again. I mean, what the hell, come on, man. How much will you go on and on...

Whenever there's a hit-and-run that happens anywhere, they drag me into it all over again.

That's because some do think you got away with it quite easily.

...well, the High Court looked into it and they came up with a verdict which says that nothing of that sort ever happened. Ye sab galat hi hai. The courts said it. But what about the 20 years? What about it? Mere toh wo gaye na? And there's nothing to compensate for that. Nothing at all. And during all this, when I am seen doing a comedy show, or romancing beautiful women, or just laughing, they go like, "Look at this brat. He doesn't care. He is indifferent to what happened." And I am like, dude. It's my bloody job. I have to do it no matter what. I have to do it to sustain myself and pay my lawyers. If I don't do it, where is the money going to come from?

The idea still lingers around that you got away with it because you are a powerful movie star.

Which is not at all true. It's not true. It's all nautanki (mischief). Even now there are 5 out of job people who'll show up on television to debate my case. Some for, some against. It's ridiculous. None of them would have happened if I wasn't a star. None of it.

There's an argument that your Being Human charitable trust has been cleverly designed to rehabilitate your image. That, along with your Mr. Good Boy roles, carves a certain perspective that glosses over your moral transgressions.

Do you have any idea of the amount of work we do at Being Human? We do s***loads of work on a daily basis. I haven't even put my name there, man. It's Being Human. I am not even on the Board or any of the trustees. The idea is that years from now, people should forget who even started the foundation. You have no idea, man. Do one thing: Come and live my life for one day.

(Gets up and walks away)

Huffington Post India

[faithfulcat111]

Just Shapes - Chapter 9

Day 9 (Thursday)

Roman woke up the next morning, a scream tearing itself out of his throat. He looked around at his barely familiar bedroom, the dream from last night somehow a thousand times worse than anything that he had yet. It was real, but not like the way the other ones had felt. This one was too real. Roman leaned down under his bed to grab a dusty journal that he had left behind when he went to college, opening it and writing about the dreams he had recently, especially last nights.

Downstairs, Roman found his mom once again scribbling in her own notebook. “Hey Mom,” he tried tentatively.

She looked up at him and gave him a soft smile, “Hey honey. How are you?”

“Tired,” he admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck.

They both stared at each other for a long moment before they both started, “Look, I’m sorry-” They both cut off, laughing, and his mom started again, “I’m sorry, honey. For going off on you yesterday. I am frustrated, but that is no reason to take it out on you. Yes, I’m partly frustrated at you, but I’m willing to wait for you to tell me why.”

“I’m sorry too. I said some things yesterday that were frankly uncalled for and I shouldn’t have,” Roman apologized. After a moment of silence, Roman asked, “What is happening, Mom? Really?”

His mom sighed and closed the notebook, “When we were trying to pay for your college, we realized that between your dad losing his job twice, the hospital, the therapist, and paying off the lawyers, we didn’t have hardly any money to pay off your college. And with your hectic high school career, you couldn’t get enough scholarships. And, well, long story short, we took out a mortgage to help you and now the bank owns the house. We figured it would be a worthwhile investment, but we haven’t been able to make the payments and unless we can scrounge up the money quick, well…”

Roman just stared at his mom in shock as she trailed off before saying, “I’m so sorry, Mom. This is all my fault.”

“What!” his mom gasped. “Honey, no it isn’t.”

Roman sniffed, “Yes, it is! If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t have had to pay half of those things and then I just went and threw away all your hard work and, and-”

His mom stood up and quickly gathered him in a hug, “Honey, you are okay. Despite everything that has happened, we still love you, okay?”

Roman sniffed again, nodding. “Thank you, Mom,” he whispered, hoarsely.

“Okay, I got to get into work now. But be safe today, okay honey?” Roman nodded again as his mom kissed him on his head. He stood there as he heard her leave, his eyes locked on her notebook. He walked around the table, reaching out as if to take it, but stopped and just walked away.

Roman walked through the streets of Possum Springs, slightly dazed and curling into the warmth of his jacket as the November air nipped at him. He had just got done with another star-gazing session with Dr. Picani during which Elliot had yelled up at them that Dr. Picani would fall off the roof one day. Dr. Picani responded by simply saying that he would make sure to fall right on them. When Roman left the two of them still bickering, he continued down the streets, not really interested in trying to find anyone or anything.

Which is why he was shocked when he suddenly ran into something. That hurt. A lot. In hindsight, it really shouldn’t have ran into the offending object. He looked up, rubbing his nose, at a street pole that was directly in front of him. “Are you okay, Killer?” Roman jerked his head to the side to see Talyn standing, leaning against the building next to him.

“What are you doing here, Talyn?” he muttered.

“Well, I was up on the roofs, waiting for you to show up, and I see you walk by on the ground of all places. You didn’t look okay in the slightest, so I descended myself to check on ya. Is that okay, Killer?” Talyn asked as they unwrapped and popped a piece of gum in their mouth.

“Yeah, I guess,” Roman muttered, leaning forward so that his forehead was leaning against the pole.

Talyn blew a bubble before taking a step forward, their hands digging into their pockets, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I saw a ghost last night. I hope,” Roman explained, his voice low.

“You hope?” Talyn tilted their head to the side in confusion.

“The alternative is a lot worse,” Roman pushed himself off the pole and started walking again. “I need to find my uncle. See ya later, Punk.”

“Your uncle?” Talyn called after him.

Roman looked back for just a second, “He’s a cop.”

Roman tried to be more focused as he continued to wander through town looking for his uncle, but it was a task that proved to be increasingly difficult as his mind continued to wander further and further away. When he finally forced himself to focus, he realized that he had somehow found himself out in the parking lot of the Old Food Donkey once again, staring off at a figure talking to several others while wearing an orange beanie. He kept himself focused on that figure and walking towards them, completely missing the fact that the others had disappeared and Joan had turned to face him by the time he got there.

“Are you okay there dude?” Joan asked. “You seemed to zoning out pretty bad.”

Roman blinked at him for a second before finally recollecting all the bits of himself that seemed to be floating about, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

“You sure about that?” Joan tilted their head to the side, not seeming to believe him.

Roman nodded, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “Who were they?”

Joan followed Roman’s gaze to the direction that the other’s had disappeared too. “Train-hoppers,” they explained. “People who travel from town to town, riding the trains. Wanderers. Those without a home.”

“Do you think Remy joined them?” Roman asked.

Joan turned back to him with an almost impassive look, “Maybe. They rarely travel in groups. But he could be out there.”

“I hope so. I hope he’s safe.”

“I’m sure he is,” Joan said with a smile, then their eyes darted behind Roman. “Incoming.”

Roman turned to see his uncle walking across the parking lot towards them. “Hey Uncle Mall Cop!” he called out cheerfully.

Thomas raised an eyebrow at him before turning to Joan, “How are you today?”

“I’m fine, but I do have to run home. My mom is expecting me.” And with that, Joan turned and walked off into the woods.

“I worry about him,” Roman could hear Thomas mutter behind him, but when he turned to his uncle, he was staring down at him with that irritating look he seemed to keep reserved just for Roman. “Now, are you more calm than last night?” When Roman nodded, Thomas asked, “Then can you explain what you saw happen last night? Calmly.”

Roman took a deep breath, “I was standing outside the Ol’ Pickaxe. I had tried to make plans with my friends, but they had other things to do, so I was alone. I noticed that there was what seemed to be a teen or a young adult in the park next to the Ol’ Pickaxe. All of the sudden, a cloaked figure swooped in and grabbed them. Nobody was nearby, so I took chase myself and chased them all the way to that fence. I don’t know how, but the figure made it to the other side and took off into the woods. That’s when you found me.”

“Okay,” Thomas nodded. “I see exactly two problems with your story, Roman. One, there have been no missing person reports from last night. Two, there is no way the guy could have cleared the fence carrying a kid.”

Roman clenched his fist as he snarled, “No one ever believes the one who saw a ghost. Well, guess what! The cop always dies!”

“Ghost?” Thomas raised an eyebrow.

“It went through the fence?” Roman tentatively suggested.

Thomas just sighed, “Really Roman?”

Thomas started to turn and walk away, but Roman leapt forward and grabbed his arm, “Can you please take this slightly seriously? At least check the woods, maybe there is-”

“I did!” Thomas turned and snapped at Roman. “I did take you seriously. And there was absolutely zero evidence out there. I can’t find the missing kid. And you know why? Because there is none.” Roman took a step back, looking up at his uncle in shock. Thomas took a deep breath, collecting himself again, “Maybe you should go see your doctor again. Goodbye, Roman.”

Roman stood there for a long moment, watching as his uncle disappeared from view. He reached up one hand to touch whatever was making his face wet, pulling it away to look almost absent-mindedly down at the water. Realizing that he was crying, Roman scrubbed furiously at his eyes and set off, determined to find at least one of his friends. Maybe he could find someone else who believed him.

Patton wasn’t at the Snack Falcon and Logan wasn’t at the video store, leaving Roman to become slightly panicky. He started jogging towards the Ol’ Pickaxe, but quickly stopped when he heard voices coming from within the slightly open door of the Party Barn. He stepped closer, opening the door slightly more as he peeked in on his friends.

“I’m sure he’s fine. You know Roman, always sleeping in late. That certainly hasn’t changed,” Logan was saying, standing up on the stage with his arms crossed. Patton was sitting on the edge of the stage, his eyes flickering between Logan and Virgil, who was pacing around the room.

“Yeah, but he hasn’t responded to Patton’s IMs, no one answered his house phone, and he usually turns up at one of our workplaces by now. What if something is actually wrong?” Virgil was two tones short of actually growling at Logan.

“AWWW!” Roman broke in, pushing the door all the way open. “You do care about me!”

Patton jumped up and ran over, squealing Roman’s name as he wrapped him up in a hug. “Finally, he has shown up. Can we continue now?” Logan turned and stomped over to his microphone.

Roman let go of Patton and looked over at Virgil. Virgil stared at him for a minute before saying, “Yeah, let’s go,” and turning to stomp over to where his computer was set up. Patton and Roman looked at each other and Patton just shrugged before running over to join the others.

After band practice, Roman convinced the others to stay late and told them what had happened the night before and what his uncle had told him that afternoon.

“Wait,” Patton said. “So you saw a real bona-fide ghost last night? Why wasn’t I there?”

Logan cleared his throat as Roman continued, “I don’t really know what I saw. I’m hesitant to say ghost, but how else did he manage to clear that fence?”

“To be honest, neither solution seems very likely. But say we went with your ghost theory: how would we go about proving it correct?” Logan asked

“Ghost-hunting?” Roman suggested.

At the sound of a scoff, Roman turned to where Virgil was sitting who said, “No, we should probably do research first rather than just diving in completely blind. What we could start with is checking the old newspaper records at the library.” At the other three’s blank looks, he continued, “The library? Seriously, you guys don’t know we have one? Even the former pocket-protector.”

“Well, the school certainly didn’t have a library and I have always gotten books online,” Logan admitted, kinda sheepishly.

“I really don’t think Roman or I have to excuse ourselves. The reason is pretty obvious,” Patton said with a gesture between them.

“Hey!” Roman protested.

But Virgil cut in with another sigh, “True. But since it seems that I’m the only who has ever been there, I’ll take Roman looking for hints about his ghost.”

“Yes! Ghost-hunting team, disperse!” Roman announced, but Virgil just grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out, swinging the keys in his other hand.

Patton called out behind them, “Come to the apartment when you’re done!” Roman barely saw Logan elbowing Patton before the door swung shut behind them.

When the two got to the library, Roman was immediately blown away by the sheer size and niceness of it. “How did a library of all places manage to pull this off?” he protested.

Virgil shrugged, “Someone made a large enough donation intended for a library. So even if the residents of Possum Springs barely know this place exists because they are all working themselves to death in order to barely survive, the library lives on.”

“That seems like a strange sort of ironic,” Roman said as the two walked into the building.

“Come on.” Virgil led the way into the library and the two made their way up to the third floor. Once up there, Virgil started coughing, “It is dusty up here.”

“It’s OLD up here,” Roman corrected, looking around at the dusty spines of the books lining the shelves.

“Maybe your ghost is up here?” Virgil suggested, missing the way Roman’s face fell.

“Yup, ghost,” Roman snarked. “Or something. Whatever he was, he walked through a chain-link fence or flew over it or something all while carrying someone.”

Virgil chuckled, “Oh right, that’s even more impressive.”

Roman chose to ignore his tone, continuing, “So, we’re going to find this guy because he took someone. And he’s somehow connected to this thing I’ve been going through and that’s not good.” Roman looked up at Virgil, who was just staring at him with a raised eyebrow. He sighed, “That all sounded a lot more badass in my head.”

Virgil shook his head, “It’s okay. It was fine.” The two started through the shelves, making their way to the back of the floor where an ancient-looking computer sat. “There she is.”

“Cool,” Roman just stood next to Virgil, staring at it.

Virgil looked over at the still Roman and prompted, “So…”

Roman looked over at Virgil, “I have no idea how to use it.”

“Really?” Virgil’s voice dropped to just above his growling-tone.

“Well, I can’t be expected to know how to do everything!” Roman scoffed.

Virgil laughed, “I’m sorry? What expertise have you brought to this so far?”

“This whole thing was my idea!” Roman stomped his foot much like a child and released a small cloud of dust into the air.

“No,” Virgil corrected. “Your idea was ghost-hunting. My idea was to at least do a tiny bit of research on it.

“If you think it’s so stupid, then why are you here?” Roman snarled.

“Because I’m your friend, you asshole!” Virgil snapped back.

Roman’s eyes immediately widened, his entire posture softening as he awwwed at the statement. Virgil’s nose wrinkled up as he plopped down in the chair in front of the strange machine. Roman hopped up to hang off the back of the chair as he asked, “Aw we fwiends, Wirgil?”

“I’m going to set this up,” Virgil said, completely ignoring Roman’s antics. “We’ll be here all night if your dumb ass is in charge.” Surprisingly quickly, Virgil had a whole collection of newspaper articles pulled up and asked, “What are we looking for exactly?”

Roman leaned over the back of Virgil’s chair more, scanning the screen, “Anything involving missing people or ghosts.”

The two scrolled through a multitude of articles, dismissing several before they finally found their first clue. “Local Ghost ‘Little Joe’ At It Again,” Roman read outloud.

Virgil scanned the article, “Well, it’s at the graveyard. That’s a gimme.”

“I mean, if you’re looking for ghost stuff,” Roman muttered. “That’s where you get a lot of them.”

“Looks like they saw him in the old section,” Virgil murmured as he kept reading. “I don’t know if you can get back there.”

“You can,” Roman said with a little too much confidence. When Virgil looked over at him with a raised eyebrow, Roman reaffirmed, “We can.”

Virgil looked back at the screen, “You’re lucky I’m actually interested in this one.”

“How can you not be interested?” Roman shouted. “This is actual dangerous ghost stuff!”

“Shhh!” Virgil hissed. He was slightly red as he admitted, “I like history.”

“Ghosts are history!” Roman exclaimed, although quieter than before. “History that won’t stay history!”

Virgil gave him a genuine smile, “That was actually pretty good.”

“I know,” Roman bragged and Virgil scoffed as he turned back to the screen. After some more scrolling, they eventually found something else. Roman read outloud once more, “Ghostly Rumors Haunt New Historical Society.”

“Historical society?” Virgil questioned.

“History that won’t stay history in a history place!” Roman exclaimed.

Virgil looked up at him, “History place?”

Roman nodded, “Yup! I’ve never been.”

“You didn’t go in school? I thought everyone did,” Virgil asked.

Roman just looked at the screen, “I think that was when I wasn’t in school.”

Virgil looked back down at the screen for a moment before the pieces recollected. “Oh yeah!” he exclaimed. “After the softball incident.”

“Yeah,” Roman was much quieter. “I mostly just watched TV and did therapy.”

Virgil looked back at him, “Well, it is actually a pretty cool old house. I think one of the mine owners used to own it or something? Railroad? Mine? Steel mill? Something like that.”

Roman gasped, “So, it’s an actual haunted house!”

“Uh, no,” Virgil rolled his eyes. “Elementary kids are there all the time. They have like summer arts and crafts programs.”

“Still worth checking out though,” Roman decided. The two continued scrolling when Roman stopped Virgil suddenly, pointing at the screen with a, “Hey! Look at this!”

Virgil leaned forward to read the title, “Spectral Happenings at Possum Jump.” He leaned back again, “Possum Jump. That’s back up at the State Park, right?”

“Yup!” Roman confirmed.

Virgil looked up at him, “You ever been up there?”

“Nope!” Roman said with a smile. “Gonna check it out though!”

“Go nuts,” Virgil said with a wave. “That’s probably only a mile or so from Mrs. Pacelli’s place. Lots of strange things up there.” Roman shuddered, “Well, I’ll try to avoid any basements this time.”

Virgil snorted, “Agreed.”

“Well, that is like three leads. I think we have a start,” Roman fell off the back of Virgil’s chair. “Let’s boogie!”

“Boogie?” Virgil questioned, but by the time he turned towards Roman, Roman was already disappearing into the shelves, leaving Virgil to scramble up and chase after him.

Very quickly, the two were had pulled up in front of Patton and Logan’s apartment and were upstairs in the living room drinking water from styrofoam cups that Patton had dug out of who knows where. Roman slammed his cup down onto the coffee table, stepping around it so that he was facing the other three still sitting on the couch. “Thank you for coming here today,” Roman started.

“We live here,” Logan interrupted.

The other three just turned to stare at him as he continued to stare off into space. Roman just waved him off, “The details aren’t important.”

Patton sighed, “Okay, so did you guys find out anything about your ghost?”

“Yeah!” Roman finger-gunned towards Virgil, “Tell ‘em, Verge!”

Virgil groaned, but uncurled himself and leaned forward, “Sure, why not? There were newspaper clippings talking about ghost sightings at some different places.”

“Not just any ghost!” Roman cut in. “Little Joe!”

“I don’t really remember Little Joe,” Logan admitted after a brief pause.

“He’s a ghost miner!” Roman said, a little too excited. “He died in mysterious circumstances!”

“Wow,” Patton murmured.

Roman chose to interpret it and said, “I know, right? Mysterious!”

Virgil tilted his head in confusion, “I thought you were afraid of this ghost? Like filled with dread and such?”

Roman nodded enthusiastically as he raised his arms in the air with a huge grin, “Oh, I’m terrified!”

Virgil shook his head, “Okay then.”

“So, the clippings mentioned three different places we can check out!” Roman continued.

“Um, I have work and such,” Virgil argued.

“We all do,” Logan cut in with a pointed look at Patton who was taking great interest in his shoes.

“But you guys skip work all the time,” Roman said in confusion.

Virgil chose to ignore him, “Maybe we can split it up? Share custody of you and your ghost?”

“What places were you thinking about?” Patton finally joined in.

“Well, there is the graveyard-” Roman started.

“I call that one,” Virgil cut in. “It is close and not illegal. I have to go by anyway.”

A sly grin came onto Patton’s face, “Is there an illegal one?”

Logan growled, but Roman just nodded, “Yup! The historical society!”

“You know you don’t have to break in?” Virgil said, his eyes darting between the two. “There are people who work there who get paid to show it to you.”

Patton and Roman just stared at him for a long moment before Roman rolled his eyes, “Anyway…”

“I’ll take the Historical Society,” Patton said with a solemn nod.

Roman cheered and Logan groaned before asking, “And what did I get stuck with?”

“Possum Jump!”

Logan’s face lit up. “Possum Jump?” he confirmed. “I know it! I used to go there when I was in Scouts all the time!”

“Perfect!” Roman cheered again.

“Alright, I gotta get home and do actual work now. Wanna ride, Roman?” Virgil heaved himself to his feet, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

“Yup!” Roman danced over to the door. “This is going to be awesome! Also, I’m scared to death!”

After being dropped off at home, Roman found his dad in the living room, watching his show. “Hey, Dad,” he said, slipping his jacket off.

His dad absentitly looked up at him, “Hello Roman. Missed dinner again.”

“Sorry,” Roman muttered. Great, they were doing that again. He looked at the back of his dad’s head and quickly built up the courage to ask, “Dad, are we having money problems? Mom seemed really worried when I talked to her today.”

There was silence for a long moment, almost too long. Finally, his dad spoke again, “No.”

“But-”

“We are not having money issues. We are fine,” his dad said, the finality in his tone obvious.

Roman hung his head, “Yes, Dad. Good night.”

“Good night.” Roman made his way upstairs and crawled into bed, fearful for what was coming next.

In all fairness, his dreams were not nearly as bad as the one from the night before. At least he was vaguely sure this one wasn’t so real. The crooked buildings seemed normal, but the flying fish and people floating through the world around him were a much stronger clue. It didn’t help that he couldn’t really see the details on anything around him. All Roman knew was that he too was floating through the air, aimless as everything else around him. He could only confirm it was a dream when a crane swooped in, scooping up and eating one of the floating fish. It wasn’t that that was unusual. It was that the crane started dissolving into white light along with everything around it that tipped him off. He was pretty sure that that didn’t happen in reality. That was his last thought before he dissolved with everything else around him.

[unlikelydreamlandcreation-blog]

Help understanding medical insurance in the us?

"Help understanding medical insurance in the us?

I am not from the us but have been here for four years and after all this time complaining about why here healthcare is so expensive and I wouldn't go to the doctor even if I needed to, I was afraid I couldn't afford it. Now I finally got a job which gives me medical insurance BUT I realized I have to pay a lot from my biweekly paycheck, and somehow they say you save when you have insurance, but it would probably be cheaper for me to pay full for three doctor visits a year...should I just waive

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If I fill in a online Auto Insurance quote ,give them information like my Social Security number and the rest of my personal information that I am I asked for online am I putting myself at risk for Identity Theft?""

Auto Insurance Legality!?

I recently applied for a new insurance policy. I was before, on a high risk rate as I had a few past discretions. When they pulled my 3 year abstract they did not turn anything up. I am almost certain that I had a drinking with a G2 charge from over 3 years ago that I thought would remain on my license for 6 years but nothing showed up..... Will this come up at a later date and haunt me? I am worried about legal repercussions Help!""

Low cost health insurance for Foreigners in China's Mainland.?

Is there such a thing, and where can I get some?""

Car insurance.......?

If I lend my car to a friend and they have a prang into another car and the friend is not covered by any insurance to drive my car what will happen? Will my insurance be effected?

What do you think about life insurance? Do you have it? Details below.?

My dad got life insurance 10 yeras ago, and now the price of the premium has increased 8 times more than what we were paying. Since his 10 years of life insurance at the affordable rate has expired, I'm thinking of asking him to renew it, but we were paying at such an affordable price. But he doesn't want life insurance and doesn't seem to care about protecting the family in case of his death. But I'm wondering, is life insurance that is something really worth it? My dad is a healthy individual. And even if we pay, would the premium have gotten up? My add is over 50, and I'm wondering if our premium will double even though if they check his health again. What do you think?""

How much does Jay Leno pay on insurance for all his vehicles?

Does he have a special contract with an insurance company? Because I heard he drives a different car every day.

Car insurance tips for new drivers?

im 23 and have just passed my test. i live in the uk and im looking for car insurance which is very expensive. i have tried a few companies and made the excees the most it can be but its just too much. just looking for any tips or websites anyone knows of that may help thanks

17 and HIP insurance?

Im 17 and I need some type of health insurance because my parents dont carry on me. My mom is applying again for HIP health insurance because she missed her reevaluation. So can I apply for HIP health insurance? thanks!

Do you think i could get a used car and insurance with under $3k?

i really need a car to get around, i have full time job, n part-time student. It's getting to my nerves that whenever i need to go somewhere, i have to ask my brother or sister to take me. Yes i am a student 18 yo, i don't have much money, and my parents refuse to buy me a car, reason because my mom said insurance is too expensive, and she doesn't give a shitt about me. Do you think i could get it anywhere? i was thinking about buying the car 1st then insurance later on because i can't afford it. idk what should i do?""

Can I receive california unemployment insurance while I am receiving retirement income?

I reeive a relatively small Cal Pers retirement but it is not enough to live on so I continue to work.

Why has my health insurance coverage gotten worse under the Affordable Care Act?

This was supposed to be affordable, but it's making everything worse!""

""NY plates & registration, but Connecticut Insurance?""

My car has NY plates and was registered in NY. I moved to CT, and have CT auto insurance. Is it okay to have auto insurance in the state you live but the car is registered and plated in another?""

Help understanding medical insurance in the us?

I am not from the us but have been here for four years and after all this time complaining about why here healthcare is so expensive and I wouldn't go to the doctor even if I needed to, I was afraid I couldn't afford it. Now I finally got a job which gives me medical insurance BUT I realized I have to pay a lot from my biweekly paycheck, and somehow they say you save when you have insurance, but it would probably be cheaper for me to pay full for three doctor visits a year...should I just waive

""Hello , I have a car in my wifes name ...but the car insurance is in my name can i get it licensed?

Can i get it licensed in kentucky ...while it is in her name? ..she doesn't drive ..i have the insurance on the car in my name..etc .

Can i drive with just insurance?

is it ok for me to drive with just insurance on my car for a certain amount of time?

Need help with car insurance questions.?

I'm getting my license in a few months and I am looking into car insurance and so forth. I live in Gulf Breeze,Florida. Taking the drivers ed. class. Make A's in school. What would be the best car insurance company to go with? The cheapest car to insure? Anything really that you know and could give me information on would be greatly appreciated. Thanks""

What does 6 months mean for car insurance?

I'm 18 and I don't know munch about car insurance. For me it's about $1500 for the year or about $300 a month for six months. Is this every month for six month like January through June? Or every other month for the whole year?

Is it cheaper to get on your parent's car insurance or have your own separate claim?

I will be purchasing car insurance really soon and comparing qoutes of different companies and want to know which is best

Does anyone know of cheap car insurance for over 50s?

Does anyone know of cheap car insurance for over 50s?

Medical Cancer insurance?

my brother had cancer in the past. can he be covered by anyone now?? If he can what medical insurance?

Can you get a discount on motorcycle insurance if is has an alarm system?

I just go a 2009 zx6r and I was wondering if ICBC gives you a discount if it has a full alarm system and immobilizer? I live in vancouver BC canada thanks

I am in phoenix arizona. What insurance company is best for a 18 year old driver with a DUI?

I know he should not be allowed to drive but he needs to get to college. No he is not going to take the bus!

Best life insurance for baby? Cost?

Trying to figure out the best life insurance plan or place to use for new baby to come. How much does it cost upfront? Do you pay it overtime?

Teen Girl Insurance on Car?

I will be 16 in October, I am interested in a 1999 Mitsubishi Eclipse GSX, I have a 4.0 GPA. How much would that cost? Ball park? Thanks :)""

How should i best pay car insurance?

Okay, so I'm trying to understand car insurance. It says my premium is $833.75 which I guess is the total amount for the insurance for the entire year. I pay $157/month for the full year which is $1000 over that premium. Is that correct? Can I change my month to month plan to annual and just pay the rest of what I owe up front to save me money? Why does it cost so much more month to month?""

350z or g35 coupe auto insurance?

I am 17 years old about to be 18 and I really want a nissan 350z or an infinity g35 coupe. I have been saving money for a few months to buy a used z or g35 but I never thought about what my insurance would be like. I am 17 with no real driving experience. I would be on my parents insurance, I had a 4.0 the last 2 years of high school so straight a's. I have a job(idk if that matters) I do not smoke. I live in California in a small town. I am a male. I dont know what else insurance companies look for so if you know of anything else please mention them in your reply. I'm just wanting to know if anyone has any kind of idea of what id be paying. Thanks""

Individual health insurance?

These are my health issues I'm currently treated for and/or have perscribed meds. Moderately elevated blood pressure, osteo arthritis,fibromyalsia,and I take meds. for cholesterol and depression. I currently pay $380 a month for medical and perscription coverage. I am a 59 year old female. Ilive in Fla. The coverage I currently have is too high and too many draw backs. It seems like a rip off to pay this amount and have so MANY stipulations. I need a name and number only for companies that can truly meet my needs. Otherwise, I'll keep this lousy insurance I have.""

How much is car insurance for a 19yr old N driv er in BC?

I am nearly 19 about to buy a cheap car and insure it for the bare legal minimum how much approx will that cost me

Why did my car insurance double from last period?

Does it make sense that your auto insurance can double for 1 at fault accident? I just got my renewal documents for my car insurance and my premium doubled from what it was last period. I did have one at fault accident so i knew there would be an increase but I didn't know it could double like that...

Can you be on someone other than your families car insurance?

I just want to know if it is an option to be on someone other than your families car insurance. Like a friend's or whatnot. Or is car insurance for one family only.

Truck hits curb due to icy road..Damage is extensive. Will insurance pay? ?

I was heading down a hill; the road was icy. The truck wasn't stopping properly. It slid into a curb; damaged the wheel (rim). Now, the truck swirves to the left when I drive. I thought I needed an alignment. Went to an auto shop; turns out I need to replace a control arm ($569 just in parts) and some frame pulling is needed....AND an alignment. Total cost: $1750 (with labor) I do have comprehensive coverage with a $500 deductible. I just called my insurance and am waiting to hear back from a claims rep. (they said within 24 hrs); can they deny this for any reason? I really need the truck fixed soon.... Also, will my premiums increase? By a lot???""

Do men drive better then women or women better then men or even steven?

Do men drive better then women or women better then men or even steven?

Insurance Broker Question?

On average how much does an insurance broker make in california? Or how much just a well rounded guess nationwide it does not matter... When an insurance broker gets commision from a company for helping them get more customers...around how much percentage does he cut from the company?

What is the best cheap car insurance qoutes in the uk!!?

pleas help!!

Liability car insurance?

Im 18, never had a wreck or any tickets, i live in a small town/rural area in alabama, and i want to know about how much liability insurance would be for a... -2008 mustang -2010 mustang -2012 mustang""

Average house insurance in Canada?

What is the average amount of money you pay in house insurance in Canada? It would be nice if you have a site link, because this is for a school project. Also, how much do ...show more""

Sued for Auto Accident Above Insurance Limit in NJ?

One year ago my wife was taking our daughter to pre-school turning left out the end of our road in to traffic, this road has a speed limit of 35 mph. Traffic had to stop to let her cross the first lane since it was solid cars, vans and small trucks. As she approached half-way, before getting a good view of oncoming traffic, another car took off the front bumper. Note that the center line is interuppted at the cross-junction. The bumper was torn from the front of the car with damage more evident on the non-impact side of the car than where initially hit, hence my wife had not initiated a turn, just edging forward to see. The radiator was in-tact, but damaged, still mounted to the front of the car. I walked to the site with our other child and took my daughter home; she is fine and I took her to school but still talks of the incident today. My wife stayed at the incident, and was fine (no later issues) keeping real calm and cooperating with police. It took about 2 hrs with police debating which town the incident took place (middle of the road is the divide) and the other driver was concerned about getting home to take a pot off the stove, but seemed medically fine. The driver asked me and the police to drive them home to get the pot off the stove and used my wifes cell phone more than once. They also wanted to drive their car home and leave the scene with a flat tire at one point I presume to attend to the pot. No tickets were issued, no air bags deployed. The other car had a flat front left tire and side damage so the drivers door was stuck shut. Both cars were old, so written off. Over a year later we received a court summons from their attorney and we are being sued for $750,000. Our limit is $100,000 on insurance. The plaintiff is claiming herniated discs and loss of bowel control. We have a 2006 no money down mortgage, so total equity is very much in the red since our home value plummeted. I have no umbrella policy. I am sole income, but was owner of the car my wife was driving. My wife is stay-at-home mom. The remaining $650,000 would be a big problem. Interestingly, we heard that the other driver called our insurance and asked for a >100-fold lower amount of money to just go away! Our insurer recalls this very clearly and did not pay. Questions: Should I invest in an attorney to work with our insurers attorney to cover the $650K over our limit? Do we have any case given the car the other driver may have been in a rush (as all were aware of the pot on the stove), would have settled for far less, and in reported safety tests should avoid an obstacle at 55mph let alone at the speed limit of 35 mph? Their case, as I understand, is to actually prove my wife was negligent, she was just trying to see. Reality and the law are complicated I understand. Our insurer is looking in to the validity of their medical claims. I believe for spinal and neck injuries plaintiffs have to follow careful insurance approved treatment plans in NJ. I know that such a condition may not be permanent with curative surgery possible to release the nerves that may be causing the bowel issue. The plaintiff has claimed the injury as permanent, do they need to prove this? Should we ask experts? The plaintiff lives in our town and their house is on my running route every other day. I have not noted anything at all and plan to stay away from all other parties. Should I change my running route? Thanks for any advice. Our 30 day clock is ticking.""

How will this 15-20 mph speeding ticket affect my insurance?

I just turned 18 and I am a senior in high school. I live in a small area that is just between two towns. This area is known for its police; they have a tendency to give speeding tickets out like crazy. They hide in places so that they can catch people speeding; the area is generally a 30mph zone. I had a good morning and got a little foot-happy...I sped right up to a cop that hides next to my neighborhood. Needless to say, I was going 50 mph in a 30 mph zone. Without a seat belt. I was extremely honest, so I got a speeding ticket but the seat belt issue was simply a warning. This is my first ticket ever; the only other time I had been pulled over was because I forgot to turn on my headlights...I was 16 at the time. I have State Farm Insurance and have an extremely decent rate for my age. I have no issues paying the speeding ticket because I did speed...I just don't want my insurance to be crushed. I went through driver's education, State Farm's Steer Clear Program, and I have maintained my grades to ensure that I get a decent rate. What will this ticket do to my rate? And what is the best I can make out of this situation?""

Help understanding medical insurance in the us?

I am not from the us but have been here for four years and after all this time complaining about why here healthcare is so expensive and I wouldn't go to the doctor even if I needed to, I was afraid I couldn't afford it. Now I finally got a job which gives me medical insurance BUT I realized I have to pay a lot from my biweekly paycheck, and somehow they say you save when you have insurance, but it would probably be cheaper for me to pay full for three doctor visits a year...should I just waive

Can I cosign a car title with my boyfriend but just add another car on my insurance?

I already own a car of my own and my boyfriend had a car too until he crashed it yesterday. since we are tight on money I was going to help him pay for half of a new one and cosign on ...show more

""A drunk driver just hit my house last friday. What should I do, call driver insurance or my home insurance?""

A drunk driver just hit my house last friday. No one got hurt but my sun room (patio) is all damaged. My famlity also got scared to stay in the bedroom since the car hit some part of our bedroom also. What should I do, call driver insurance or my home insurance, or consult a lawyer?""

What is a good type of home owner insurance to get?

I may be purchasing my first home on a land contract from a person that i know that owns the house out right. the land contract would be a five year contract or sooner if i can afford to pay the house off. i have lived in the house at one time, not for sure about a few things on the house. i was wondering if anyone may know of a website or a website that may give an estimate quote on home owners insurance on the home i may be buying. i wanted to get some idea of how much it may be and what home owners insurance covers. i have looked at a few websites, but there are a lot of different things to include in insurance and different requirements that may need to be met before the house is insured. the house is a bit of a fixer upper and needs lots of tender loving care before its decent. its livable but i need insurance if i buy it. the owner who is selling isn't requiring insurance, but i want to be smart and safe and have insurance. any suggestions? i must give an answer to the owner tomorrow, because i know he has others wanting to buy. i don't want to get into something that i have no clue about before purchasing. i am looking and getting the idea, but was looking for tips or more info. thanks""

Does it cost anything to add someone to your insurance policy?

Does it cost anything to add someone to your insurance policy?

Best health insurance?

Best health insurance?

How long should I get a term life insurance policy for?

I'm researching term policies to cover the shortfall for life insurance from my work. How long is reasonable to get a term policy for? Term to 60, 75 or 100 years?""

What is the average cost of mobile home insurance in Florida?

Is it higher in different areas

Texas health insurance plans?

Are there any texas health insurace plans beside CHIP, CIGNA, and Blue Cross Blue Shield because they don't cover insurance for eye doctors and their deductible is too high also. I'm 19 if that helps and I don't qualify for gold member or medicaid.""

How much will my auto insurance premium decrease when...?

I turn 25 in a year, which I heard is when my auto insurance will go down a good bit. My wife will be 22, and we are on the same policy (We only drive our own cars). We both have clean driving records, good credit, and consistently held auto insurance since we were of driving age. She has minimum coverage on her car, and I have comp/collision with $1000 deductible. Our premium is $755/six months. So, when I turn 25, how much of a decrease in premium should we expect to see?""

What Health insurance would anyone reccommend?..?

my husband and I are trying to buy health insurance. we want something affordable. What good health insurance would anyone recommend.

How do i answer this question about car insurance?

My sister and i are on the loan for a car that I'm driving. We have insurance but im not on it. I want to put it under my name now, but when i get a quote online they ask if ...show more""

How to switch car insurance in New York State?

I'm currently with geico! I'm thinking to switch to progressive. But my geico police expires on octobre 2013, It this an issue? if I choose to switch car insurance provider do I have to notify the DMV about the Change? Thank you""

Paying car insurance semiannually?

If I buy car insurance for the first time and set up to pay semiannually, do I pay immediately, or do you pay at the end of the 6 months for the 6 months you've had it?""

Low Insurance Car For Teen Boy?

I am turning 16 in a couple of months and I need to know what USED vehicles would be best for low insurance. Nothing lower than 1998 and nothing higher than 2007. Please give me some suggestions. NO ugly cars either...

Moped/Scooter insurance???

Hi everyone. How much would it cost for me to be insured on this bike? http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/125cc-125-cc-Scooter-Moped-Sport-Learner-Legal_W0QQitemZ200232549719QQcmdZViewItem?hash=item200232549719&_trkparms=39%3A1|65%3A7&_trksid=p3286.c0.m14.l1308 I am 19 years old and have a provisional driving licence. (I'm just using that bike as an example but that is the size engine I want as I'm going to be traveling quite far to work and is working out a fortune for bus fair). I'm new to this so if you need more information about me or anything else please say. Thanks xx

I am 19 years old what is the cheapest auto insurance?

I am 19 years old what is the cheapest auto insurance?

Why is car insurance so expensive for me?

just passed my driving test this month and i checked how much car insurance would be for me and its 3000+ :'O when my younger female cousin passed she got her insurance for 900 on the same car!!! how can i get it cheaper? =[ im 17 male

New Jersey Car Insurance Question.?

Knowledgeable Jersey Residents only please! I have recently moved to Jersey, and I am having heart feailure over the cost of car insurance. It is almost DOUBLE the cost in any other state where I have lived. (CT, FL, NY, SC) (I have NO tickets, NO accidents) Also, I was told today that there is yet ANOTHER rule/law in Jersey that states that any family member who lives with you (whether they are under YOUR insurance, or their own insurance) makes you liable in case of an accident. In other words, if my adult daughter (who has a poor driving history) gets in an accident--I COULD BE SUED.....EVEN if she has her own car, and her own insurance. CAN THIS BE TRUE???? It is very important that I get a straight answer, as it will drastically affect my ability and desire to stay as a resident in New Jersey.""

Where would be the cheapest place for insurance??????

ive recnetly turned 18 and i want to get a suzuki jimny soft top where is the best place

How much will my insurance go up if I am at 100% fault ?

I was in a car accident that was found to be 100% my fault. Accident itself was not too bad -- other car's front bumper( one side) dent.. so how much should I expect my insurance to increase ?

Car insurance for a 16 year old?

I am getting my g2 (I'm in Ontario) soon, and would like to purchase my own car. I can go through my parents insurance, but I couldn't be a secondary driver as there would be 3 cars in the house. Could I put it under my grandfathers name and be a secondary driver? Or just get insurance by myself? How much should I expect to pay? I have done drivers ed if that helps. Thanks !""

Health Insurance for the self-employed?

After 13 years with my husband, he is leaving me. I have always been on his health plan because I am self-employed. Can anyone offer me any advice on where to find providers? I have no idea where to start.""

Ways to lower my insurance rate?

Hey, Im in highschool at the moment and im not reaching my car dilemma Im a male at the age of 16 (not looked well upon by insurance companies I hear) and I am insured by Statefarm. I was wondering if someone could help me out by telling me how i could lower my monthly insurance rate. The car im getting has side airbags and good crash test ratings, and im going to be adding mods to it (either rsx type-s or volkswagon golf gti) and i would most likely be installing rollover bars. Would this help my insurance rate go down? What other steps could I take? Thank you!""

I would like to know approximatly how much I would be paying for car insurance?

As I haven't got a car yet I cant get an actual quote so I'm struggling to find out how much I can expect to pay. I am 22 will probably be 23 before I pass my test and expect to get a car. This will hopefully be in the next 6months. I'm female I know that reduces insurance a little. I'm hoping to get a toyota yaris it would be an older one so it would be in group 2 for the insurance. Any information anyone could give will be helpfull. Thanks

Perth; Can I ride a motorcycle without insurance?

And if I am buying motorcycle insurance, how come they ask me how much I want to pay? Please see the link at http://rac.com.au/Insurance/Motor-insurance/Motorcycle-insurance/Motorcycle-insurance-quote.aspx So how much must I pay? I bought my second hand scooter for A$1,000 on bikesales.coml.au""

Help understanding medical insurance in the us?

I am not from the us but have been here for four years and after all this time complaining about why here healthcare is so expensive and I wouldn't go to the doctor even if I needed to, I was afraid I couldn't afford it. Now I finally got a job which gives me medical insurance BUT I realized I have to pay a lot from my biweekly paycheck, and somehow they say you save when you have insurance, but it would probably be cheaper for me to pay full for three doctor visits a year...should I just waive

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