#and yes house upgrades are a thing I must ponder

[victorluvsalice]

Nikal ended her work day in good spirits -- once she finished up her meal, she headed back to the lab for a bit more experimenting, and ended up planting a few new things in the greenhouse! And fixing the toilet her coworkers busted with magic. Now that’s how you get levels in your spellcaster rank!

And then she got home and Emmett had accidentally upstaged her by getting an off-screen promotion. XD Whoops. Ah well, becoming Laboratory Leader is nothing to sneeze at -- and they could use the extra money with a kid on the way. New shower too! Didn’t really fit in their “public” bathroom, so I just stuck it downstairs in the lab for now. Really gonna have to spend some time upgrading their home now that there’s gonna be three people here. . .

Anyway, nothing much special to report after that -- they watched some politics on the TV, Nikal finished her shelf (which was NOT of excellent quality, annoyingly), and Emmett tuned up the mattress firmness on their bed, making it even better. All while it kept snowing away outside, harder and harder.

But that’s okay, because tomorrow’s a holiday and nobody has to go out! Next time -- the gang celebrates Winterfest!

[rhysiana]

It's been 15+ years, I can probably turn this ridiculous experience into a farce for fic purposes now, so: modern Sleuth AU ft. new teacher Tang Fan, a (small) typhoon, and Sui Zhou to the rescue.

Tang Fan, shiny new teaching degree in hand, accepts a teaching position at a private school in a city far from home. They told him housing was provided in the teachers' dorms, a good thing since he'd gotten through university on the bare minimum so as not to burden his sister.

When he arrives, though, he discovers he is the only person living in the whole building, because every teacher with another housing option had taken it. It's... kind of creepy, being so alone at night, but he's going to make the best of it, at least for the first term.

Classes haven't started yet, so he's supposed to be "settling in," a process that isn't hard with only a suitcase and a box of books. He's starting to ponder the feasibility of scavenging furniture from other rooms for the fun of it when the typhoon hits.

It's not a particularly dangerous one, although sitting it out alone at night with the wind howling outside isn't super fun--the real problem reveals itself the next day: the school is pretty far from anywhere useful (like groceries or a train station) and the streets are flooded.

Well, it's fine. He has crackers and a bottle of soda he bought on his last foray into the real world before the storm, and surely soon the school will send someone to check on him!

They do not.

-

(The rest of this is not pulled from life, alas.)

Sui Zhou bought a house out in the suburbs near the school specifically because of the semi-isolation. The harder it is for any of his family to just "drop in" on him the better, as far as he's concerned.

He doesn't want any of the jobs they keep offering him in the city center, none of which have anything to do with his actual interests anyway. He has his inheritance and his savings, and he's in no hurry to find a new career after... the stress of his last one. He's tired.

(I'm adopting azurewaxwing's genius idea from “put out the fire (in your head)” of SZ having been a disaster relief worker, because it fits so well here too.)

Everything is quiet and peaceful in this area, especially during school breaks, and he likes it that way.

When the storm hits, it's fine. He has plenty of supplies, and he'd been watching the weather reports for days ahead of time. He's checking the state of the windows the next day when he looks out toward the school and sees lights in the teachers' dorm.

Well. A light. Just the one window is lit up. He frowns. He didn't think anyone lived there. Maybe someone came to check on the building? That must be it.

The light is still on the next day. Just the one. He has a bad feeling about it. He goes to the closet he hasn't opened since he moved in and pulls out his gear bag.

-

Tang Fan is actually starting to worry now. His phone isn't getting great reception, he only has one contact number for the school to call and there's no answer, and he seriously isn't equipped to wade to the convenience store over a 20-minute walk away.

When he hears someone hammering at the door to the building, 3 floors down, he thinks he must be hallucinating. When he opens it and finds a sternly handsome man wearing waders and a reflective jacket, he still thinks he might be. (Hunger has always affected his ability to think clearly.)

"Do you need assistance?" his unexpected savior asks, like something out of one of the novels Tang Fan packed on the bottom layer of his box.

"Yes! Oh my god, I thought I was going to starve!"

And this is how Tang Fan finds himself (and all of his belongings) swept out of the building and into Sui Zhou's house.

(Sui Zhou sics his aunt on the head of the school. The teachers' dorm gets seriously upgraded, but Tang Fan never moves back in. He needs someone to feed him.)

[roseprincesskristina]

The Crimson Doctor And A Patient

((Heyo! Today's special surprise goes out to the ladies out there whose unbeatable for White Day Zero never cease to die down. In this story, a very non illed patient has been called for check up at Maverick Hunter HQ located to the medical office. But what she didn't realize during her appearance is that a familiar "physician" plots a "special treatment" in store. Anyway, with that aside, please enjoy! 😊✌))

Daylight made its brightening occurrence to reveal a healthy smile upon the town of Abel City, homeland to the freedom fighting organization known as the Maverick Hunters who clash against unruly tyrants such as mavericks, with an unreasonable desire to do as they please like creating felonies on purpose without practicing the apologetic act or clemency towards humans. Lead by the previous commander, Sigma, wielding a soon-to-be dream of hoping for a perfect future when all of humanity has become swept out of Earth, leaving the powerful reploids to rule of an iron grasp without anyone to stop this nightmare. Until luckily, his schemes have yet again become silenced from the duo of upper class hunters X and Zero to restore peace by defeat him multiple times despite of the resurrection. No matter how unstoppable his power will be, companionship will always overdraw brawns.

Today is yet a lovely morning to enjoy life accompanying both humans as well as reploids together in existence, never the matter of differences. Birds tweeting in a cheery tone helping to rise up the evening mood, clear breeze easing away all stress penetrating inside the bodies, and the perfect balance between man and robot will always be much more peaceful than it was in the past. Life for this city along of its inhabitants, is what makes it ever so graceful as it is now.

You, a young human woman, are enjoying yourself to learn more about this city,  since the first time arriving here to meet everyone, including the famous irregular slayers themselves in the flesh. While strolling throughout this section for a further enjoyment of a lifetime, a tall but familiar figure in red with golden locks tied in a ponytail gazes at your presence since he walked past you minding his own business, which cause him to stop for a moment. Not realizing about this person before yet finds her rather innocent, also beautiful unlike the rest who visits his office at headquarters. Inspires nature at most, being kind to others, helping, all of these things about you have gave him a pumping love struck. But as a wonderful pill to take. The perfect plot to gain her attention just pop up within his mind. In order for her to come towards him, he must pose himself as someone else that would woo her. Perhaps as a doctor like Lifesaver, however, a sexy version flashing his unbeatable charms to the hearts of women. The scarlet hunter wrote down this message on a paper, quietly places it in your back pocket with a lack of notice, then beams away to his dorm for an upgradeable change of armor. Chuckling menacingly yet flirtatiously to himself at the similar time.

"Mm he he he he... Oh this is gonna be too easy... As soon as she receives my form for tomorrow's health examination, I'm gonna give her a special present in mind for later just in case..." He schemed quietly, clothing his wardrobe into an unlicensed love physician as well as a long diamond colored operating robe to suit him better. Confiscating his upper armor part from the body, joined with losing an entire inner suit to pose as a "curing pill" should be the only powerful supplement there is to have patients fall into a hypnotic state once taken. He began to gaze to his divine reflection along of the secret "tranquilizer" to use for later. The smug expression reappears as he said... "The doctor...is in~"

The next day has occurred, you have been summoned here by a strange doctor for a visit about getting a checkup exam, due to a message given from the personal "assistant". Right in front of Maverick Hunter HQ while entering inside for an appointment today, one of the elite hunters began to escort you over to a different location by using an elevator that ascends directly to the room.

"Hello miss. I apologize for proceeding you so rudely, but the doctor wishes to see you immediately for your check up. Please follow me to the elevator." Nodded to the respected hunter, you proceeded with him while being escorted.

Meanwhile into the doctor's office, the other novice hunter reported that you'll be arriving very shortly to take a physics test, then an unknown medical reploid responded with a smile.

"Good~. Bring her into my office~." He said, spoken of a deep seductive tone. "Time to give my lovely patient a special treatment in store for her~... He he he he~...." Underneath his snow white operation coat, he refuses to wear his full red armor that he stripped out of but to have the briefs remain on along with the boots and helmet.

Making your way through a long hallway and appearing in an early time for the "treatment" to cure your body from illness that you don't have right now, you began to take a seat while waiting patiently for anyone to see you. Looking around this facility to keep you fully occupied would lower the boredom level to none even to ponder of your favorite spots in the park staring towards the clouds flowing by, along with spending time with your family, friends, including fun activities to do in a spare time. Until a sudden door has opened automatically catching your attention to peer who it is that exits the other room, revealing the similar yet unknown stranger from before who mistakenly sent an invitation to your bottom pocket when you return home. Wore a long white lab coat representing a medical expert that studies the anatomy along with holding a clipboard in his hand, geared with a pair of glasses. Standing in front of the desk with his back turned while awaiting for your attendance, he greeted you with a smile.

"Ah. Good evening, young lady. I've been excepting you." A gentle voice aims forwardly to you during his existence to check on you. "Thank you for coming in with a short notice to have an appointment. How are you feeling today? Are you physically active?" You replied at his greetings by a polite nod. Even though you're not an a crucial condition, he still needs to examine your well being clearly to make sure of it. "That's good. I see you have obtain the message that my assistant gave you at your house, correct?" Once again, you said yes. Showing the paper to him about getting a different medicine. Deep inside his mind, he's fully prepared to offer you something even more than a shot or anything else. The grin on his face made its return, meaning that you are in his trap for a romantic event to happen very so that you're fairly unaware of.

"Good. Very good. I'm glad to hear that you're perfectly well." Again he smiled towards your answer. "Now then, let's begin the study for your examination about yourself along of your health. Would you prefer the normal blood test? Or...." Slowly opening the long doctor's robe to reveal his stunning gorgeous abs by a flash, the visible blush shown itself into your face due to the witnessing dream before you. "Maybe I should give you a very sexual procedure instead~?" Without seeing this coming, you should've realized that something was completely off about the whole "appointment meeting with the doctor" phase, has been a scam the entire time. Even to notice of his voice more carefully, it was rearranged from original to sexually deep that gave women quite thrilling shivers. Hearing from the word "sexual" is not what a real doctor would say or has been printed into the dictionary, but surprisingly this person said it informally who imitates as one is obviously known as....

"Hey there, kitten~ Fancy having you here~ Ya miss me~?" Removing the glasses from his face steadingly to show a familiar expression, even a sexy voice shooting at you through the brain to assist your memory by remembering slowly during your later visit for a Valentine privacy, the "medical reploid" forms himself as none other than Zero. Upperclassmen of the maverick busting group that fights to remain balance for the city as well as the 0th unit captain. You silently gasped by a flush, covering up your full expression due to his irresistible "operation procedure" that he plotted only for you. Approaching seductively as he goes to you with both arms hidden behind his head licking his flawless lips in a rotating fashion, the heart shaded swordsman grasps under your chin. Winking a kiss upon your head proudly to see you again for a visit.

"Mmmm~ Glad to see your lovely mug again, my sweet little patient~ How's it going~? Surprised~? You should be, because I'm gonna cure your sickness from those dull worries spinning all over your cute little mind with a special antidote to cheer you up~" He said, circling around you romantically. Very much closer than ever, his body had almost planted onto you or face, releasing the inner urges trapped within your soul. Having your soft cheeks painted of the color pink because of the medical stud flexing passionately in front of you has surrender to him very quickly. However, the strongest sense of your will accompanies you to remain calm by doing as your hot host requires you to do. Surrender yourself within his grasps is the only option acceptable to make his evening a lot easier when it comes to mute types like you.

"So~ What's shakin, dollface~? Happy to see me~? Bet you are~" The handsome android said with an attractive spell waiting for anyone such as yourself to become its victim. "Guess you're wondering why the note I send ya wasn't a real one, right~?  Well, that's correct~ Cause it was me all along~" The flustered gasped must've escaped from your mouth after his confessions. Slightly bamboozled of his plans, but have understood it very positively with an apologetic flush. "Awww~ Even though it was a prank, I'm still glad you're not upset about the false appointment~ Thanks for forgiving me, sweetheart~" Grinned the flamed colored love doctor, smooching your forehead. "Now, how about we start our own private meeting alone~? With me~ Holding you in my muscled palms~ In my medical lair~ Together~" Hands placed upon your shoulders quite so calmly, one knee landed onto yours caused your entire anatomy to burst into the shady burn of redness unlike any kind of sunlight in the summer, but a nervous highlight covers your body wholeheartedly. A replied nod answers his question has lend a satisfied smirk towards him.

"Mmmm~ That's my patient~ Just the way I like it in a human girl~"Purred the charming expert, sitting onto your lap for a comfortable view of you, existence, the rest. Such as the preparation pouring downwards on both by his unavoidable sexiness clearing a severe fever, which you hardly gain. "Hope you're ready to have your pleasurable surgery, cause I'm change your poor life like you did mine~" You flustered yet another with a blush and very psyched at both.

"Are you excited, little lady~? From the looks of your inclinations, I'd say you are prepared for a love making check up given by yours truly~" He questions you with a finger traveling around your body, sided by his lips advancing towards the ear. Already aware of that, yes has been answered once more.

Inside your thoughts, multiple visions about this miraculous hunk in glimmering crimson showing off his god like steel dancing erotically without an end to go by. Blowing kisses for no reason whatsoever, shushing your sadness in a minimum of his unstoppable flirts about you. Especially to a certain someone he utterly admires mostly in his dreams to help him rest peacefully at night, lowering dreadful memories of violent past back to the sewerage dump where it rightfully belongs. Never to be recognized anymore. All that remains forever in front of him, is a ravishing angel of the heavens dragging him out of the frighten memories that would engulf his existence from the world across him. Replacing the former thoughts along with the ex irregularity days due to his beginning since he was made by the late Dr. Wily. Vanished from his conscious permanently. The real focus he stares rapidly is the newly symbol of life, meaning you, rehearsing the balance to its regular rate, allowing peace to perform the rest. No more maverick infiltrations, people involved in death, either to realize about the crazed used-to-be maverick king's comeback. Just some good old fashioned treatment sucking several stresses right out of his soul. Siding with a loveable victim in his sights, pressing his "ultimate tranquil supplement" against you in a grinding position just to arouse your emotions to its knees.

"Ohhhh~ Man, you're looking pretty healthy since our last encounter in my dorm~ Have you been exercising all night~? Or are you thinking of little ol' me~?" He was starvingly interested from your improved figure than before despite of last month's enchanting love event which morphed his exhaustion into a craving appetite waiting to be served on a golden platter. Two shades of red reopened themselves in your cheeks, feeling his harden yet soothing hands cushioning everywhere around you by the shoulders, chest, even your body colliding with his.

"Mmmmm~ Even your cute little fever is smoking hot too~ But in a loving way, it always turns me on~" Yet another, your eyes were yanked in complete shook, leading you to shed a sweating tear drop all over your clothing. Heart beating of a repeatable rhythm, hands held on the chair, breath zooming right out of your yap. Unable to control yourself, he viewingly cools away your steam by speaking into your ear.

"You know~ I always love it when your nervousness never fails to amuse my thirsty needs~ It pours all over my succulent, gorgeous armor so nicely~ Making me a very naughty hunter wanting to be punished for being bad~" You hardly gulped while hearing his erotic sayings of himself about your shyness showering him. " But most of all~...." Shockingly, he whispers comely at you. "I'm very~... Very~... Also~.... Hungry to have you for dinner~ Mmmm~" Slurped the ruby painted blonde, without wearing his brighten armor and under clothing still. His traveling tongue have commenced to taste some elegant skin by laying it on your cheek, slithering up, down, the neck, anywhere but the body. He couldn't get enough of your sweetness, seconded to the soothing sensation of his voice entering your imaginations including to polish your dreams into reality. Pondering of his graceful anatomy washing off a few negligence torturing your goals, likings, inspirations. Gone with a single assault, no longer coming back to mind. Your urges were calling to him saying "Please don't stop~... ", or "More, daddy~...". Either way, it doesn't really matter for as long as you, an angelic patient, are into the golden locked physician's clutches, all has been going smoothly as predicted.

"Ohhhhh~ Mmmmmm~ God, you taste so better than the others~ Mmmmm~ So clean, even my taste buds went totally berserk over you~" Intrigued insanely, he obtains another lick of your scarless facial religiously. Thinks of you as everyone's favorite candy that he wouldn't dare try to resist from. Eating famishingly of your creamy substance away, he then sips for a deeper kiss so desperately that the new memory will last eternally. The shading scarlet blush in your skin, shoots its volcanic blast to the skies, ascending to all the stars of space. Blinking lashes accelerated by a flicker. His breath took yours, piercing the corrupted heart of the bad ordor. Slain for good to make sure it was turned to ash. Continuing his solo procedure upon the patient makes it so simple to do than an ordinary practice. Plus by this, it refers to satisfaction of his lips advancing all over you.

"Mmmmmm~ Mmmm~ Oh baby~ I wanna taste you more~"

Panting like crazy almost as "getting ready for school" reaction setting your insane inner desires free that yearns for the red charmer's fascinated treasures tangling you. Shutting down everything of your life, hobbies, friends, family relatives, including schoolwork in your head. Changing them into quadruple images of Zero whistles more than one smooch clearing any kind of illness that gets in the way to live a delightful life. Slaying viruses in one strike of no problems, demolishing boredom cells damaging multiple reputations with a swooning sword.

And thirdly, a most powerful shield of all to deflect thousands projectiles of allergies fired toward anyone clean from the ignorant snot of assumptions. Immune to all twisted disasters, lack of weaknesses, especially the gifted immortality to overpower any weak obstacles shooting their way. Nothing will ever penetrate his invulnerable barrier of hotness. Holding you in his arms will grow a hundred times tougher than the normal state, by purifying the tiredness you never had into a sleepless cycle of pleasure.

"Ahhhh~ You're easily delicious when your anxious persona made my stethoscope so wet~" He purred of enjoyment, rolling his pink licking buds in a circular part. "You remind me of someone I know whose also soft but compassionate~ Getting well with people, loves peace, all that~ He's an amazing partner when you get to know him~" No clue of who this person is, but you nodded towards his concern of X, 17th unit commander.

"But enough about that, let's focus on you for an example~ Placing my chilling shot in your warm heart~" He smirked purringly, rubbing his pecs followed with the bod pressing into you. A blazing blush had overtaken your emotions, thoughts and even the will to resist.

Attempting to flee from something incredibly challenging, he mashed the lips in yours much further. Forbidding your chances to leave so hastily, you have been carried towards and pinned to the table during an infinite smooch.

"Mmm~ Sorry, doll~ But it ain't gonna be easy to escape from me once you're already sealed in my restraints~ So just relax, and lemme give you my.... "health shot" to ease your painful anxiety~ Very~ Slowly~" Once again, the aired shade returns in your conscious than just a face alone. Inserting his best "shots" to freeze your movements gave him the opportunity to perform a lustful dance in order for you to give yourself up, his fingers formed into a snap to crank the sensual music.

Red lights beamed all around the room when activated, desk remodeled into a comfy bed decorated only for you, an exercising pole, and of course, the cherry on top. A talented beam sword wielder proceeding to the silver pole, dancing the night, since it's daytime, in a tango by polishing his body onto it, licking, twirling so passionately, all the things he can do just to lasso your attention up to a tied position.

"Oh pussy cat~" He called you by an alluring finger wiggling toward at your body, having the head glanced to him forwardly. However, both yourself even the desires were pierced from his tendering view as he took off his faux operating faux coat slowly. Caught off guard, the only choice you have now is to witness wholeheartedly of the magnificent medicine he has kept for so long, beginning to show it by flashing more of his holy remedy before you.

"Remember when I said about my special cure that I'm gonna offer you for being a good girl~? Well here's a beautiful reward just for you~ Mmm he he he he~" Winked the glamorous boy toy. Blushing in a harden figure, the ravishing blonde in red flexibly dances across the pole then shoots a blowing kiss. Flowing tied locks fly so freely, hands caressing on the body in a loop, makes you a little bit woozy. Like an a perfect kind of dizziness to keep you occupied.

What you could ever dream of for the rest of your life is honestly a real thing, thus is one of the best cure that you would even ask for. Allowing his "virus" of a spell casted on your very soul to feel its sting burrowing into the bones, spreading widely as it is. Causing them to be numb, losing its control to ignore something or someone uniquely handsome such as the superior hunter. Parts of your body, in which you're controlling, are now under his dazzling influences without a strength to retaliate. Everything within your consciousness, now belongs to him. Which means, you are his permanent plaything to pleasure with all day and night long. Imagine it, a famous sword expert embracing your innocent well being, all to him. None for anybody to steal you.

Concluding his delectable performance to place a peaceful birdie such as yourself to a slumbering state, the serious Class A crusader climb into you into a lover's bed by flatly laying against your body, in a numbing condition still, gives you once more an eternal kiss.

"Mmmmm~ Thanks again, sweet cheeks~ For accepting my just desserts to make this operation an easy success~" He thanks you, purring all over your anaesthetic form with a finger vertically to the lips. "I knew you'd appreciate my expertise as an unlicensed physician~... Of love~" Your smile meant with a blink since you can't move your arms, legs, especially head. Enjoyed his company to the fullest in a new and improved memory to hold in store. His grin reveals as a rotating tongue on the lips, eager to do a second examination on you to increase a hotter mood. Closing the curtains of both windows, also the bed for a decent privacy away of the crowd. A romantic event between a doctor and patient, lady luck has always been by his side or not. But, it hardly matters for as long you are present with the only doctor who's very great with ill patrons. As for him, the only skill he has is wooing the ladies. Much like you as well.

"So, my adorable little doll, now that we're finally alone, how about another.... "secondary procedure" in secret~? Whaddya say~? Hmm~?" Prepared for more of the private procedure once again, the answer still remains the same like always. During your paralyzed fashion, he smiled seductively after his question.

"Mmmmm~ That's what I like to hear~ Now~ Where were we~? Oh yeah, the second treatment I'm gonna give you~ He he he he he~" Closer yet again to your unstable state, smushing his upon yours gently, readying for a permanent kiss in the lips of all the century. While your spirit is still active, love has cured the dangerous bacteria that ruined nature's remarkable time. Especially you.

"I love you more than anyone or anything in the world, kitten~ Thanks for turning my day into a fabulous paradise~" Showing his gratitude because of your inspiration to him, he gifted you a much more longer kiss than today. Second with his body massaging your needs.

"I really love it when you're fully relaxed, cutie~ Now ~ Stay still for me, and lemme give you a  tasty cure to aid your cold fever.....with my scrumptious body to help you get well~ Purrrrrrrr~"

Midnight has shown its quiet face to the city, different than the jubilated sunshine from earlier. The civilians headed home for a new starting day to appear tomorrow  after a wonderful evening bringing humans, including reploids, altogether in equality just as the sapphire android whose been created by the late Dr. Thomas Light requires it. All threats as well as the maverick troublemakers from the past have all been avoided as they speak. At last for now.

So as the red tough guy enjoying his perfect off duty, comforting a special whose funtime had  been a real supplement along with a well balanced breakfast to help the anatomy by growing big and strong. Even to make his life a living heaven than hell: You. A darling angel that makes everybody including Zero, change from a sorrow frown into a joyful grin.

"If any of you ladies like to have your personal checkup, then don't be shy to visit yours truly~ I'm always here to cure your illness anytime~ *Wink*."

                                                                                                                Dr. Zero, Crimson Maverick Hunter

The End

[itsallavengers]

Like A Goddamn Teen Romcom

I wrote the first chapter of my HarleyPeter fic!!! Contains: An abundance of tired dad! Tony, a pair of awkward 17 year old boys, and some serious self confidence issues. Teen Romance really do Be Like That

“Red.”

“No.”

“Blue.”

“Nope.”

“Uhh, we’re running outta colours here. Green?”

At the breakfast table, Tony sighed loudly. “Pete, I want to dye my hair to piss Pepper off, not turn myself into walking radioactive waste. Not green.”

Peter threw up his hands. “What’s wrong with red! It’s cool, it’ll match your suit, and it’ll probably drive Miss Potts insane.”

“I’d need to dye my hair blonde before it went red, d’you know how bad that would be for it? I don’t want to destroy my follicles. They delicate things and my stylist will rip my head off entirely if I tamper with them.”

With a sigh, Peter raised the cup of coffee to his lips and took a large sip. It was common knowledge that Tony wasn’t particularly coherent before 11am and two double espressos, but Peter really hoped that Tony wouldn’t actually end up dying his hair. As amusing as that would be, Miss Potts would absolutely skin him alive, and Peter kind of liked having Iron Man around on hand to help him fight crime sometimes.

He was at the tower early on a Saturday for one reason and one reason alone: Science. Over the past few weeks he knew that Tony and Dr. Banner had been working on something big to do with green energy and were close to breaking through, and Peter couldn’t resist just asking to be part of it, simply to observe more than anything. Of course, Tony had said yes- and so here Peter was, ready to go down to Tony’s workshop and watch the magic happen. Dr. Bruce was supposed to be arriving sometime in the afternoon, so until then it’d just be him and Tony going through the specs and running simulations. He was practically buzzing with excitement- science was always fun, but science with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner? 

God, sometimes Peter couldn’t even believe his life was real.

He chewed on a croissant absently as he scrolled through his instagram, grinning at some of the comments left on his photos. His profile was pretty famous- once Tony had bought him a good quality camera for his birthday, Peter had pretty much gone wild with the whole photography thing, and for some reason a lot of people on the internet had liked it, because he was on nearly 150,000 followers and counting. It was pretty trippy, really. He rolled his eyes at a comment he saw MJ had left- something mildly insulting about his choice of footwear- and then quickly shot off a reply, before switching off his phone and turning back to Tony, who had migrated from the table to one of the counters, where he was sat chewing on an apple and fiddling with the toaster.

“I thought you said you were gonna stop messing with Brian,” Peter told him with a frown, “he doesn’t like it when you tinker.”

“No, you think he doesn’t like it when I tinker, because for some reason you associate his low-pitched beeping with sadness,” Tony told him, tongue starting to stick out as he grabbed a screwdriver from his pocket, “he’s not actually sad. He likes upgrades. Look at him,” Tony held the machine up in his hands, grinning when the sentient toaster beeped three times, “he’s fine.”

Peter pulled a face, but let it drop. Sentient kitchenware was the norm in this place. “When are we gonna go down to the shop then?” He asked somewhat excitedly, fingers curling back around the mug of coffee on the table, “I’ll have to head home at about six for dinner, but I’ve got the rest of the day here.”

“Oh, lucky me,” Tony said, shooting a fond grin over at Peter, “as for the shop- you can head down whenever you want, as long as you don’t touch, tamper or blow up any of my stuff while you’re there.”

Peter pouted. “Then what’s the point of me going down at all?”

“To observe my brilliance and pure genius?” Tony tried, and then when Peter pulled an unimpressed face, he sighed loudly, “God, I swear kids used to be more respectful in my day. I swear you used to be more respectful. What happened?”

Peter grinned. “I got to know you,” he said simply, taking a sip of his coffee.

Tony glared at him and threw a corner of toast at his head, opening his mouth to undoubtedly curse Peter’s name- however he was interrupted by the sound of sliding elevator doors, and both of them turned to the sound of the noise. Peter subconsciously sat a little straighter- undoubtedly it’d be Miss Potts, and her immaculate visage always made Peter feel way too underdressed for- well- life.

But then the person stepped out, and Peter realised very rapidly that it was not Miss Potts.

It was, in fact, one of the prettiest people that Peter had ever seen.

The boy was maybe an inch or so shorter than Peter, with hair that curled over his forehead and fell into bright blue eyes. He was grinning cheekily from ear to ear and clutching a suitcase in his left hand, the other one shoved into the pocket of his jeans. He had an air of mischief about him, and he held himself with confidence and ease. 

“Tony, your son has arrived,” he said, and Peter promptly inhaled his coffee.

A few feet away from him, Tony sighed and then put down the toaster, wandering over to hit Peter on the back a few times and clear his airways. “Harley, how many times do I have to tell you- don’t start your conversations like that when there are strangers in the room. You nearly killed Pepper last time, and now look, you’re making Peter choke. You good kid?” He asked Peter, who just gasped and then nodded a few times, his eyes watering.

He looked at the boy- Harley, Tony had said- again, and his eyes widened in shock. “You’re Tony’s son?” He asked incredulously before turning to Tony, “you have a son?”

“I don’t have a son,” Tony told him, just as Harley grinned and said, “yeah, he has a son.”

“Harley likes to be a shithead,” Tony informed Peter with a pat on the shoulder and a roll of his eyes, wandering off and over to the other kid whilst Peter just gaped, “but no, we are in no way related. He basically just met me a few years ago and imprinted like a baby duckling, and he hasn’t left me alone since.” Tony grinned and then ruffled his hair, pulling Harley into a one-armed hug. The other boy returned it fondly- and Peter could see just over the course of the last few seconds that these two were obviously close. They must have known eachother a while. 

Harley switched his gaze back over to Peter, blinking a few times before smiling. “Hi,” he said, “uh- you’re Peter, right?”

Peter suddenly forgot how to use his speech. Fuck, that boy’s eyes were pretty. Like... warm ice. If that even made sense. He nodded jerkily and then smiled back, picking out a carefully selected word from his memory banks. “Yeah.”

Harley grinned- Oh God, he had a pretty smile too. “Cool,” he said, “I’ve heard about you before. Nice to meet you.”

He’d heard about Peter? From Tony? Oh God, then that meant Harley had probably heard all the embarrassing stories, what the fuck, he was going to kill Tony dead. “I- I haven’t heard anything about you,” he responded, before realising how terrible that sounded and jerking his hands up into the air, “not that- I mean- I meant to say, how do you two know eachother?”

Tony pulled a face and nudged Harley in the ribs. “Long story,” was all he said, waving his hand and then kicking Harley’s bag lightly, “you go get unpacked, kid, and then come down and meet me and Pete in the workshop, alright? I wanna get set up.”

Harley nodded and turned away, heading back to the elevator with a laid-back whistle. Peter’s eyes slid downward for a moment, before he forced them back up and blinked rapidly. God, he needed to get a grip. Harley had a suitcase which meant, for some reason, this strange kid was staying over in the tower with them- and that also meant that Peter might be seeing a lot of him. If that was the case, it wouldn’t do to get all... tongue tied, whenever he was in the same room as him. Peter needed to be cool. And calm. And possibly suave. Maybe even alluring-

“Peter?” He blinked, turning his head back to Tony, who was now alone and looking over at him curiously. “Did you-- were you even listening?”

He stuck out his chin, pondering it. “Uhhh. No.”

Tony sighed. “Your company is always appreciated, Parker.”

He shifted on his seat and leaned forward, glancing back to the elevator before going back to Tony again. “Soooooo,” he tried to sound casual as he tapped his fingers against the table, “uh, who was that then?”

Tony wandered back into the kitchen, over to Brian the Toaster. “Harley,” he said simply, “met him in Tennessee back when I was fighting the Mandarin. Kept contact with him ever since. He’s a dumbass.”

Peter frowned. “He doesn’t seem like a dumbass,” he said, “he seems... nice.” When Tony turned and looked at him curiously, Peter just shrugged and waved a hand. “What? He’s got a nice smile!”

“He’s got a smile that makes me fear for my safety,” Tony mumbled, “but I guess you can think what you want about it. Sure you’ll get on like a house on fire- just don’t take anything he says seriously. He likes to joke.”

Peter nodded. “Is he with anyone?” He asked- and then widened his eyes as, once again, he realised that had more than one meaning, “I- not as in girlfriend-sense, as in, you know... others. Parents.”

Tony shot him a strange look. “I know that was what you meant,” he said slowly, “why would you... okay, whatever, moving on- no, he’s not here with anyone. He’s just staying over for a few nights ‘cause he wouldn’t quit bugging me about seeing this new project, just like you. So.”

“Right,” Peter said, running his fingers across the rim of his mug. There were a hundred other things he wanted to ask the man, but he didn’t want to sound weird. He guessed he would just be able to ask Harley himself, when he came back down.

Or maybe not. Peter wasn’t so great when it came to... you know... talking. To people. Who were hot.

“Just out of interest,” Peter asked Tony as they both stood up to leave for the workshop, “is he with anyone? Like- girlfriends or anything?”

Tony stopped, turning his head to look at Peter rapidly. He stared for a second, before a small smile started to crack on his face; smug and knowing and spelling terrible things for Peter. He swore his spider-sense started to tingle a little at the look on his dumb mentor’s face. “Ohhhhhh,” Tony said in sing-song while Peter’s face dropped and he raised a hand warningly, “ohh, Peter Parker, do you have a-”

“-No no no, I was just wondering, Tony, wondering,” Peter said hurriedly, but of course, he’d made it too obvious and Tony had worked it out, dancing around Peter like a five-year-old asshole and poking him in the cheek.

“You like Harley!” He said in delight, “you liiiiiiike him, wow, look at that blush!” He cackled as Peter just shoved him away grouchily, but then strung an arm over Peter and squeezed, his expression ecstatic. “But for the record, no, there’s no girlfriend. And I’m pretty sure he said something about being Pan, so...” he shrugged and then grinned, pinching Peter’s cheek, “go for gold, my newly sexually awakened Spiderboy-”

“Eugh, gross, shut up Tony,” Peter yelped and pulled a face, shoving him again, “I’m not- he’s not that... just shut up. We should be doing science. And do not tell him anything, okay? I just...” He shrugged, feeling his blush deepen as he looked at the ceiling, “I just think he’s- he’s cute, that’s all. It’s not like I’m in love with him or anything- I haven’t even said more than ten words to him.”

Tony’s eyebrows wiggled up and down. He was obviously taking a lot of damn enjoyment out of this, and Peter did not appreciate it. “Well, luckily you have a whole week to woo him. He’s staying over at my tower for a little bit, and we’re all gonna be working on this science project together, so it’ll be real nice and cosy for the two of you!”

Oh dear Lord, he should never have let Tony catch onto this. “Do not try to play matchmaker,” Peter said firmly, raising a finger, “do not even think about it.  I can tell you’re thinking about it-”

“-I’m not thinking about it-”

“-and I am telling you, don’t.” Peter sighed, pressing two fingers into his forehead and shutting his eyes. “I don’t even know him, I literally just think that he’s cute.” Very very, ridiculously, should-be-illegal cute. But still. That was it.

Tony sniggered, but raised his hands in defeat all the same, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Alright, alright, I’ll keep my old-man nose out of your business,” he said with a dramatic sigh, pushing Peter toward the stairs and then stopping in his own tracks. “You head down to the shop. I’m gonna go talk to Harley, see if he needs anything.”

“Tony-”

“I promise, I promise, alright! I won’t say a word.” Tony looked like he was seconds away from bursting out into laughter, but Peter knew when Tony made a promise he kept it, so he didn’t worry too much. Just pulled a face and turned his back with an irritated huff. “There’s some tweezers in the bottom left drawer of my desk if you wanna make a last-ditch attempt to sort out that left eyebrow of yours, if you want.”

“Oh my god, just go away,” Peter muttered, cheeks flushed crimson as he remembered the little piece of information and wondered whether he would actually be able to get away with giving himself a little tidy-up before the two of them came back down to the lab. Just to keep up appearances and such. 

God. this week suddenly seemed a lot more difficult than it had done five minutes ago.

-

-

As soon as Harley sat his suitcase on the guest bed and made sure the door was firmly locked, he gave himself a moment to internally freak the Goddamn hell out. 

That was Peter Parker. 

Fuck, that was Peter Parker.

He swore under his breath and then ran his hands frantically through his hair, trying to smooth it out. He hadn’t even goddamn combed it through that morning, fully expecting to only see Tony in the tower, maybe Doctor Banner if he arrived early. He certainly had not been expecting Peter Parker to just be.... just be sat there, drinking coffee and looking every bit as perfect as he did on his instagram pictures. Harley had thought they had to be at least a tiny bit photoshopped, because surely someone’s hair couldn’t curl that prettily, their face couldn’t smile so beautifully- but nope. He’d walked into that goddamn kitchen, and Peter Parker had looked at him and smiled, and Harley had had to delve into the deepest recesses of his mind just to remember how to function like a normal human being. 

Peter Parker.

Harley followed his instagram page religiously. He could admit that he was more than just a little bit infatuated with the boy- he always looked so perfect, and he seemed so kind. Tony talked about him sometimes too- because of course Peter was also a genius that Tony Stark had taken under his wing- and when he did, Harley only ever got the idea that Peter Parker was one of the best people on the planet. Tony clearly rated him highly. For months, Harley had been working out a way for them to maybe-possibly-perhaps meet up, so that he could maybe-possibly-perhaps find a way to get Peter to fall immediately in love with him. 

But not here, not now, when Harley looked like death on two legs and hadn’t showered in days. Also, they were about to all go and do science together, which meant Peter would see Harley working off twelve cups of coffee and a redbull, which would probably terrify the boy beyond belief. 

Oh God, this was terrible. 

He stood jerkily and cursed again, pulling a face at his reflection when he passed it in the mirror. He could shower now, put on some fresh clothes and try to get his hair to do something that didn’t make it look like it was attempting to defy gravity, and then... then just do his best to treat Peter as if he wasn’t the person Harley religiously stalked on instagram. 

Wow, that sounded fucking creepy. Harley hadn’t even said more than five words to the boy, and he already knew it was going to go terribly. 

He’d just finished setting out his chosen outfit (definitely clean, probably not that appropriate for sciencing in, but definitely cool) onto the bed and was grabbing a towel to shower when Tony knocked on the door. Harley turned on his heel, throwing it open and then immediately pointing an accusing finger when he caught sight of the man. “You failed to inform me that I would not be the only young person here,” he said immediately. 

Tony looked at him with a shrug, stepping into his room and looking around, “To be fair, Peter didn’t know either,” he looked down at the bed in distaste, “Harley Keener, it’s been five minutes and you’ve already made my room look like it got bombed. How do you even manage that?”

Harley shut the door and then leaned against it, sighing. “Tony, that’s Peter Parker,” he whined.

Tony pulled a face. “Yes, it is, well done,” he said, “what about it?”

Harley just spluttered. “It’s... everything about it! I follow him on instagram, I look at his posts every day, he’s awesome and funny and cute and now he’s just here and you didn’t even warn me and my hair is messy and-”

“Whoah whaoh,” Tony made a ‘time-out’ gesture with his hands, squinting at Harley, “since when did you care about how you look? I’ve never seen you take more than two minutes to get ready in my life.”

“I-- I always care-”

“Harley, you once got gum stuck in your hair and left it in there for a week.”

He blushed, folding his arms defensively. “Maybe I’ve turned over a new leaf, huh?” He mumbled, “maybe I care now, when there are cute boys in the immediate vicinity which you failed to tell me about. I only brought my homeless-rat clothes! I don’t want Peter Parker to think I’m a homeless rat!”

Tony froze. And then he sighed, very loudly and dramatically. “Oh my God,” he muttered, “this is going to be a long week. This is.... a very, very long week. Wow.” He turned back to Harley and clapped him on the shoulder, giving him an assuring smile. “I promise, Peter also looks like a homeless rat when he’s working. You will be like a match made in awkward-teenager heaven.”

Harley just sighed, slumping against the door dejectedly. “Peter Parker would never look like a homeless rat,” he muttered, “Peter Parker is perfect. Have you not seen his instagram?”

“I have,” Tony pulled a face, “and I fail to see how a picture of his scrambled eggs managed to gather 30,000 likes. Jheeze, if you like him so much, just ask him out.”

“I can’t ask him out!”

“Why the damn hell not? I didn’t even think you owned an impulse control and I’ve sure as hell never seen you act shy around strangers before. You nearly shot me in the face when you first met me, and you were, like, seven years old.”

Harley sputtered, waving a hand as he felt his cheeks go pink. “Because he’s-- he’s Peter Parker,” he said weakly.

Tony just looked at him, and then threw his hands up in the air. “That makes no fucking sense, but whatever,” he said with a sigh. Harley just flipped him off. He was having a crisis here, and Tony was being no help whatsoever. 

Maybe he could go steal some of Tony’s makeup. Or his clothes. They were roughly the same size at that point, although Tony was more filled out- but baggy clothes were in right now, yeah? Peter would think he was cool, and less rat-like than he would if he turned up in his white-faded-to-gray sweater that had super noodle stains on the collar and smelled vaguely like Monster energy drink. “Can I pilfer through your wardrobe and get some clothes?” Harley asked, standing up straighter and turning to the door. Tony blinked, and then shook his head. 

“No. No you cannot, that wardrobe costs more than your house-”

“Huh? Sorry, didn’t hear that, too busy pilfering,” Harley waved a hand behind him and opened the door, hearing Tony sigh and mutter something unsavoury behind him. He grinned to himself as he slipped out of the corridor and heard Tony follow behind him. Coming to the Tower often felt more like coming home than it ever did back in Tennessee. Here, he could be an asshole, because Tony was an asshole right back to him. It was an equilibrium. It was just... nice. 

“I regret ever inviting you here,” Tony called out as he followed Harley up to his Penthouse, “you offer me no joy and I wish I’d never met you. How’s things at home?”

“When I’m not here, do you even have friends?” Harley asked, turning his head and raising his eyebrows. “Home’s still home. Mom’s still waitressing and not giving a shit about me, dad’s still MIA. You know the drill.” He shrugged and then stepped into the elevator, feeling Tony’s shoulder bump against him as he joined him. They stood in silence for a second, before Tony poked him in the ribs and Harley yelped. “What was that for?”

“I dunno. It felt awkward, you were talking about your shitty family and I wanted to lighten the mood.” Tony made a face and then looked over to Harley. “I can have them both killed if you want,” he said with a shrug and a cocked eyebrow. 

Harley just laughed. “Thanks, old man, but I think murder might be frowned upon by some people.”

“Uh, did you just call me ‘old man’?” Tony asked, looking at him in betrayal, “you know what, offer rescinded, I am no longer willing to murder anyone for you-”

“Awww, c’mon gramps, you know I didn’t mean it like that!” Harley cackled as Tony shoved him irritably into the wall, but then leapt right back to Tony’s side and linked their arms together with a grin. “Hey- you let me wear something cool and Armani, and I’ll not make another age-related joke for the rest of my time here. Deal?”

Tony glared up at him. “You know, I preferred it when you were smaller and less willing to emotionally blackmail me.”

Harley sniggered. “I seem to remember I was emotionally blackmailing you back then too, Tony. I’m just taller now.”

“Yeah, and I hate that,” Tony groused, before ruffling his hair and giving him a gentle shove over to his room, “now shut up and go rifle through my closet. let’s deck you out in some Armani and make Peter fall hopelessly in love with you, shall we?”

-

-

By the time Harley and Tony came down to the workshop, Peter had already set up his work-surface at the desk next to Tony’s, and was preparing a coffee for him and Bruce, who’d arrived about five minutes after Tony has disappeared. He heard them before he saw them, and briefly took another moment to prepare himself before he turned from the counter and put his Casual Face on. 

Across the room, he took in Harley, now with damp hair and a change of clothes- a slightly baggy Armani shirt, skinny jeans and a pair of faded Timberlands. He looked like he belonged on a damn runway- and here Peter was with his faded school sweater, a pair of sweatpants that were at least two sizes too big for him and held up with a bit of rope he’d found in the corner of his room that morning, and no shoes. 

Brilliant. 

Peter looked away rapidly, cheeks flushing scarlet with embarrassment. God, so much for alluring. Harley wore Armani as casual-wear.... he must be loaded to afford that. Peter wouldn’t dare wear his one designer shirt in the lab, because he knew he’d ruin it within five minutes. 

A kid like Harley would never even look twice at someone like him.

Swallowing down his disappointment, he walked hurriedly over to Doctor Banner instead of joining Tony and Harley, and then made sure to spend the next few hours thoroughly avoiding the other boy. Luckily Tony and Bruce were working on different sections, and so while Peter stuck to Bruce like glue (which probably confused the Doctor, but Peter could deal with the embarrassment of that later), Tony and Harley got cracking down on the lower sections of the large instrument that was taking up the majority of the workshop. Bruce had explained that, if this all functioned correctly by the time they had finished, then it would work to condense the carbon dioxide in major cities and turn the products into rock and gravel, which would then lock in the gas and reduce the CO2 levels in the air. One placed in every city would be enough to reduce the national carbon footprint by a quite frankly ridiculous amount, and Peter was here, working at the forefront of it all. It was incredible, it was breathtaking, a complete honour to be a part of...

And all he could think about was the state of his hair.

He hadn’t washed it. It was probably lying, all greasy and gross and flat on his head. What if Harley was looking at him? What if Harley was looking at him and seeing his horribly greasy gross flat hair and laughing at him? God, it was torture. He didn’t even know why he cared so much, he’d hardly said five words to the guy and knew absolutely nothing about him other than the fact that Tony liked him. Maybe if Peter actually spoke to him, he’d realised they didn’t fit at all and he could just relax. 

But he absolutely could not speak to Harley. Not when he looked like this.

So instead, he worked very very intently on the task Bruce had set him, and made sure that he did not have to look up and potentially catch the other boy’s eye once. A few times he had to talk to Tony, but he did so by simply shouting across the room rather than walking over to him, leading to a lot of frustrated cursing from Tony himself as he finally caved and walked over to Peter instead.

“You’re being weird,” he informed Peter, “it’s very obvious.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Yes it definitely is. Bruce, he’s being weird isn’t he?”

The other man peered out from behind what he was working on, giving Peter an apologetic face. “Little bit,” he admitted.

Peter just sighed, burying his head further into the book he was studying. He resisted the urge to glance up nervously in the direction he knew Harley was stood, in case it turned out the other boy was looking his way too. “I’m just concentrating very hard on this book,” he tried, “it’s a very fascinating book.”

Tony snorted, which showed just how much he believed in that particular excuse. Then a second later, he flopped down next to Peter, nudging his side gently and then shooting him a knowing look. “He doesn’t bite, you know. I promise.”

Peter couldn’t resist any longer; he shot a rapid glance up over to Harley, feeling his breath catch immediately in his throat as he did so. He wasn’t doing much, simply sat casually on the chair with his feet propped on the desk as he screwed something into place on what looked to be a little robot. His tongue was stuck out in concentration, hair swept out of his face messily, and Peter watched him run a hand through it absently as he leaned forward and pulled the robot closer to his eye-level, muttering something unintelligible. He looked gorgeous.

“He wears Armani in workshops,” Peter said weakly, “that’s a little outta my league-”

“-oh, shut up,” Tony rolled his eyes and smacked him around the back of the head, “I can assure you that is the first time Harley Keener has worn something with a logo on it in his life. Usually he dresses like me after three days in the shop and no sleep. He just wanted to impress you and make himself look cooler.”

At that, Peter put his book down and snorted. “Yeah, right.” Harley didn’t even know Peter. He was just some stupid greasy kid who’d taken one look at him and nearly snorted coffee up his nose.

But Tony seemed convinced. “He does! He follows your weird instagram page, he told me himself. You really don’t need to be worried about what he thinks of you, Pete- he’s already followed like, every part of your life over these past three months.”

Oh. Peter blinked, looking at Tony in surprise. Harley already knew him? Okay, well, that was... unexpected. Peter wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information. “Does he like it?”

Tony pulled a face and glared at him. “I feel like he wouldn’t be trying so hard to impress you if he didn’t, Pete. Stop being dense. It’s giving me a migraine.”

“Everything gives you a migraine.”

“Well then stop adding to my long list!” Tony shoved him half-heartedly and then stood up, peering over Bruce’s shoulder. “We’re gonna call a break soon anyway. I want Chinese food and a movie- it helps my brain work.”

This time it was Peter’s turn to pull a face, looking to Bruce for support. But again, the man simply shrugged and nodded. “It’s true,” he told Peter, “it’s like a stimulant. For us, anyway. How much Chinese food did we eat while we were creating Vision, d’you think?”

“Oh, like, a fuck-ton. Fatal amounts.”

Bruce looked back at Peter. “There you go. Best things are made on a diet of Chinese and coffee.” He smacked the lid of his computer down and then stretched his back out, standing up off the desk. “I’m probably ready to break right now, actually. You wanna order something?”

Peter glanced over to Harley, now sat watching them all curiously from the other side of the room. They caught one another’s eye, and Peter quickly looked away in embarrassment, turning back to the book and pretending as if he were thoroughly invested in it. “I need to go home first,” he blurted, “shower and stuff. Just order some fried rice for me, yeah?”

Bruce and Tony nodded in acknowledgement, and Tony informed him the food would get there at five and if he didn’t arrive in time his share would almost certainly be eaten. Peter was fully aware of Tony’s love for Chinese and so did not doubt this for a second. He quickly gathered his stuff and then hightailed it out of the tower, promising he would be back within the hour.

He was not back within the hour. 

Admittedly, this was entirely his own fault. But he’d wanted to make sure that he was looking his best, so that certain people didn’t get the wrong impression about him. He could clean up okay when he wanted to, and when he could actually find the right goddamn clothes. “AUNT MAY, WHERE’D YOU PUT MY LEATHER JACKET?”

“HUH?” She called back from the kitchen.

“MY LEATHER JACKET?”

“OH- IT’S IN MY CLOSET,” she informed him, to which he rolled his eyes and then stumbled out of his room, now looking more like a nuclear waste site than a place for humans to live. He saw May peer at him curiously as he walked through the hall, and when he came back out of her room a minute later with his jacket, she raised her eyebrows. “You’re looking dashing,” she told him, “hot date?”

For some reason, it made him blush crimson. “Uh- no, what, of course not... I’m just going back to the tower and wanted to- you know- freshen up.”

She eyed him. “You’re wearing cologne.”

“So?”

“You never wear cologne. You didn’t wear cologne to your Great-Aunt Morticia’s funeral.”

Peter huffed. “Well, maybe I’m just trying something new?” He managed to hold eye contact with her for all of three seconds before caving with a large sigh. “Or... maybe Tony invited one of his other proteges to the tower and they’re really pretty and I don’t know how to act around them at all and I’m gonna look stupid for the next week,” he admitted, feeling his cheeks go hot once more, dammit. 

May put down her ladle and cocked her head. “Well,” she said, “first thing’s first, ditch the tie.”

He looked down. “Really?”

“Yes, Peter, you’re going to the tower to watch movies and eat Chinese food, not try and secure a business deal. Ditch the tie, wear a smile, and show this person how wonderful you are.” She smiled at him. “There will be unable to not fall immediately in love with you.”

He face was bright and earnest, and Peter felt his heart swell with affection as he leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I don’t even... we haven’t even spoke yet,” he admitted with an embarrassed grin, “he might be an asshole.”

“Well, on the off-chance that he’s not-” May leaned forward and squeezed his cheeks, shooting him another grin, “just make sure to chew gum after your meal.”

Oh, great. Well now Peter was thinking about kissing him, which was stupid and dumb and not even remotely likely to happen. He groaned and then shuffled out of her grip, hearing her chuckling behind him. “I’ll be back in a few hours,” he mumbled, “don’t stay up late just to harass me about it when I get back, please.”

“No promises!” She called out, “Love you!”

“Love you too.”

By the time he actually arrived back at the tower, it was half an hour later than he was supposed to have turned up, and he sighed to himself. That meant he’d have to order himself some more food and wait another thirty minutes then. Great. 

However, when he got to the communal living room where Tony, Bruce and Harley were all lounging around, he noticed in surprise that his takeout box was still there, unopened. He blinked in surprise. “Oh.”

The occupants of the room all turned to him, and Peter pointedly made sure not to look in Harley’s direction. The boy was looking at him, he could tell, but Peter didn’t dare look back. God- how the hell was he supposed to exist like this for a week? He sincerely hoped he built up some courage at some point during Harley’s stay, or it was just going to be awkward for everyone. 

“Oh, he arrives!” Tony called out, throwing up his hands, “only thirty minutes late. We’ve been waiting to start the movie! I had to actually make conversation with those two just to pass the time, it was a goddamn train-wreck.” He flicked his hand over to Bruce and Harley, who both just rolled their eyes. 

“Don’t worry, you haven’t missed much- just some of Tony’s insane inner monologues,” Bruce told him with a gentle smile, “come on- we’re watching Pacific Rim. We even saved your takeout for you.”

“No, Harley saved your takeout for you,” Tony muttered, shooting Peter a sly look before anyone else could see and then looking away again, “I was in favour of just eating it, but for some reason Mr. Keener over here has now decided he’s going to be a good Samaritan and ordered me to save it.”

“I’m always a good Samaritan,” Harley said primly, sliding the box of Peter’s takeout over to him and shooting him a smile that lit up his whole face. It was mischievous, but his eyes were kind. Peter caught himself staring, somewhat transfixed at the beautiful icy colour of his irises, but a moment later he snapped out of it and forced his eyes back to the TV screen. He ignored the stifled laughter that came from Tony’s direction. Bastard.  

He sat down in the middle of sofa between Bruce and Harley, acutely aware of every move that he made in case he brushed up against the other boy. He probably looked like an idiot, sat ramrod straight on the couch and pointedly keeping his eyes on the TV screen. He knew that if he accidentally caught Harley’s eye, he might just start staring like a creep, and no one wanted that. 

God, he was terrible at this. 

“So, Harley,” Tony said about ten minutes into the film, rolling his head on the couch in order to look over at the other boy, “you found any apartments in New York that are cheap enough to buy yet or are you still looking?”

On his left, Harley sighed dramatically. “New York is too expensive,” he whined, “how the fuck am I supposed to afford to even buy a room in this city?”

Tony eyed him. “Oh, I dunno, maybe that bursary Stark Industries granted you would help a little bit, you know? Admit it, you haven’t even started looking yet, have you?”

Peter frowned a little in confusion, looking between Harley and Tony. Harley just pulled a face and flopped further into the couch, folding his arms sullenly. It was kind of cute. “I’ve been busy!” He said defensively, “and I don’t know how to do adult things yet! I’m working up to it.”

“Your planning skills astound me,” Tony said drily, waving a hand to Peter, “Pete could probably help you out. He’s like a 70 year-old trapped in a teenage body, aren’t you kid?”

He raised his eyebrows over to Peter and then shot him a look. He was giving Peter a chance to enter the conversation, clearly. Peter swallowed, looking between Tony and Harley. “Uhh,” he began, clearing his throat, “uh, why are you even buying a house here? Aren’t you my age?”

Harley smiled (Fuck he had a nice smile) and leaned back against the couch cushions, shooting Tony a glance. “Yeah,” he began, “I am, but I’m also part of the Stark Internship Programme. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for a dumbass from Tennessee like me, so I’m gonna come move to New York in order to take it. Tony’s gonna have to deal with me for the whole program, aren’t you?”

“God help me,” Tony pulled a face and folded his arms.

“But anyway,” Harley shrugged and waved a hand absently as he picked at some of his noodles, “the program starts in a few months and I, uh, still haven’t really... organised anything yet. Because I am a dumbass. Like I said. So.”

Peter huffed in a amusement, but couldn’t help adding another tick onto the Checklist of Harley Keener. Not only was this kid smart, but he was smart enough to be in the SI Internship Programme. That was rare-- Peter had barely managed to scrape by through the skin of his teeth.  

So, to summarise: Harley was gorgeous. Harley was funny. Harley was kind (he’d saved Peter’s Chinese food from Tony’s clutches, probably more than once while Peter had been gone). Harley was a good enough person to be known and loved by Tony. Harley was ridiculously clever. 

Harley was 100%, unequivocally out of Peter’s league. 

He tried not to let the realisation show on his face. Well-- it was hardly even a realisation, was it? Peter had known that from the very fucking beginning. Harley just exuded an easy confidence that Peter did not have, he was charming where Peter was horribly awkward, and he moved as if he knew exactly what he was doing. Peter had never stood a chance. 

He was quiet for the rest of the night, unable to quite look the other boy in the eye, God forbid Harley somehow spot the obvious crush Peter had managed to develop over the space of a day. God, that was just pathetic. Tony and Bruce attempted a few more times to bring him back into the conversation, but Peter just didn’t know what to say. He felt awkward and stiff, like his body was suddenly too clumsy and big for him. He talked to Tony, because Tony was easy, but couldn’t bring himself to glance over at Harley, at the risk of doing something stupid like swooning at the sight of him. 

Fuck. Harley Keener had turned him into a mess in under 24 hours-- how was Peter supposed to do this for a week? He was going to have to go home and just work on... well, getting over it all, he supposed. It wouldn’t do to just pine over a stranger. That was weird, right? Weird and stupid. 

Yeah. He’d go home, re-evaluate everything, and tomorrow he’d come back crushless and fine. It’d be alright. 

-

-

Dinner had been a disaster, and by the end of it, Harley knew that Peter hated him. 

“What did I do wrong?” He whined, head falling against the kitchen table as Tony set about making coffee for the two of them at 11 at night. Bruce had headed off to bed by that point, and Peter had pretty much sprinted back home as soon as the movie was done, so it was just him and Tony now. “I wasn’t an asshole, was I? Was I an asshole? I don’t remember being an asshole.”

“You’re always an asshole,” Tony leaned up into the cupboard to pull out two mugs, sliding one across the table toward Harley, “it’s your default mode. But no, you weren’t any worse than usual. In fact, I’d even say you were quite nice, which was surprising. You saved his Chinese food.”

Harley nodded. “I did, didn’t I? Why would he hate me for that?”

“He doesn’t hate you, Harley--”

“Well he quite clearly does, he didn’t even look me in the eye!”

Tony paused, and then sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling. Harley wasn’t sure whether he was praying to God or just sharing a silent conversation with JARVIS. “I did not ask for this,” he muttered to himself, almost too quiet for Harley to hear, “I did not ask to have to be the middle-man between a pair of pining teenagers, Jesus fucking Christ.”

Tony turned around and then leaned against the kitchen, looking at Harley. “Peter is an awkward 17 year old who has no idea how to act around you, because, despite how trashy you are in reality, you do in fact put on quite a good appearance of having it all together. Peter is looking at you and thinking, ‘whoah, that boy is so cool. I’m not cool enough for that Cool Boy’.”

Harley’s brow wrinkled. “How d’you... why would he think that?”

“Beats me,” Tony’s hand flew out helplessly as he turned back to the coffee, “the kid’s a Godsend and one day, one fucking day he’ll actually realise that. But for now, he’s still holding onto the crippling self esteem.” His head turned back to Harley and he raised an eyebrow, his expression a little softer. “Think you need to have a little more confidence in yourself too, Keener. You’re not so awful either.”

Harley just pouted. It wasn’t that he thought he was awful, per se, it was just that... well, Peter was so much better. Peter was a cool city kid, he was a brilliant photographer, he was perfect. 

Harley was just Harley. Asshole from Tennessee with a mom who couldn’t give a shit about him and no real friends to call his own. Tony Stark, a man he’d met one time when he was seven, was the closest thing he had to family. 

Realistically, he just knew he couldn’t compare with that. 

“There’s a place in Brooklyn,” Harley blurted, because God, he really didn’t want to dwell on that sort of shit, “I literally just found it on the ride up to New York this morning, actually. S’nice. One-bedroom apartment, little kitchenette. Pretty nice area.”

Tony poured coffee into his mug and then leaned across the table, doing the same to Harley’s. Harley glanced up at him as he did it, eyes drawing over to the light in Tony’s chest. Last time he’d seen Tony had been about four months ago, and the reactor hadn’t been put back in at that point. “Okay, well that’s a start,” Tony nodded approvingly and then flopped onto the stool behind him, “I can come with you to check it out tomorrow, if you want.”

“Nah, it’s--”

“Oh, God, sorry, sometimes I forget not to sound polite all the time. I meant ‘I’m coming with you to check it out, so that I know you’re not moving into a place full of asbestos and situated in-between two rival gangs.” Tony grinned at him, and God, he was an asshole. Harley loved him. 

“Maybe I want to be living between two rival gangs,” He questioned, “maybe that’s all part of my plan.”

“Yeah, kid, that’s the problem. It probably is part of your plan, and as the only vaguely responsible adult in your life, I need to make sure it does not go ahead. You’d probably try and get into an ethical debate with a crackhead while they’re pointing a gun at you, and I’d rather not deal with that cleanup.”

They both laughed, and Harley raised the cup to his lips and took a large gulp of the black coffee at the same time Tony did. Both of them sighed appreciatively.

Then Tony put the mug down and shuffled in his pockets, pulling out a pen. He leaned forward and grabbed Harley’s arm. “Hold still.”

Harley obeyed, letting Tony write out a string of numbers on his arm which he realised was a phone number. He frowned. “What--”

“That is Peter Parker’s cell,” Tony said, stabbing a finger against Harley’s forearm. “You are going to text him tonight. He’ll still be awake at this point.”

His eyes widened. “Nuh uh.”

“Yes.”

“No! He doesn’t like me and I’m not going to embarrass mys--”

“He does,” Tony rolled his eyes, but then his face turned earnest as he looked down at Harley, “I promise, kid. Trust me. Just... God, just say hey, start a conversation, don’t do anything weird like spam him with pictures of clowns like you do to me. He’ll be better over text. It’s less awkward for him.”

Harley bit his lip and looked down at the string of numbers. “If I make an idiot of myself, you have to buy me a Ferrari.”

“You know what, I’m so confident that I will take that bet.” Tony stuck out a hand, and after Harley shook it, the man shooed him away. “Now fuck off and go talk to him. Breakfast will be at like, 9, probably, depending on how much sleep I get. Have fun.” 

Harley stood up slowly, cup of coffee still held in his hands as Tony backed away and then turned over to the counter once again. He was muttering something about teen rom-coms and ‘geniuses are so fucking stupid, I swear to God’. Harley chose to ignore it in favour of backing out of the room, a hand diving into his pocket and collecting his phone. He gripped it nervously between two hands, holding it all the way up on the elevator ride to his room. He finished the coffee as soon as he got in and then tossed the mug onto his desk before flopping on the bed, looking at the phone number on his arm. 

Should I, shouldn’t I?

God, it was dumb. This whole thing was dumb. Harley was overthinking it-- this was just a cute boy with a cute smile and a cute heart-- Harley needed to suck it up and text him, the same way he texted everyone else. If he didn’t respond, he didn’t respond. So what? He could get over it. He probably wouldn’t even see Peter after this week anyway. It’d be fine. Just grow a spine and do it, Keener. 

He braced himself and opened his phone. 

Hey, Peter. This is Harley, the dumbass from Tennessee.

[xiubaek-13]

Cognitive Dissonance

 I am still doing these sporadically. I have 8 to go!

  Prompt: Chanyeol + “You have a cold, you’re not dying.” + “It’s only one night, we’ll just share the bed.”

Setting/AU: Cyborg/Futuristic

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1,687 

“I think I’m dying. Chanyeol hurry. I need you to take down my final wishes.” Your body ached from the constant coughing and your nose couldn’t make up its mind as to whether it wanted to be runny or blocked. You were pretty sure you’d slept most of the week away but no matter how hard you tried to focus on anything, the fuzzy feeling washed over you and you’d wake up a few hours later in an incredibly uncomfortable position.

As far as you were concerned, you were dying. This was your body’s final fight against whatever bacteria had infected your system and your body was losing. Make sure you get a X488 shot your mother had nagged and nagged. Of course, you neglected to get one. The shot only inoculated you against one strain of the disease, and it mainly afflicted the elderly and the infantile.

“You have a cold, you’re not dying.” came the emotionless response from Chanyeol. Really you shouldn’t have expected sympathy from him. He just wasn’t programmed that way. When you’d found him he was barely held together but you’d rescued his half scavenged form and had slowly but surely rebuilt him. He wasn’t like the cyborgs you would find on any street, those had the emotional AI programming chips that allowed them to pass as humanoid. Until you spoke with one for a length of time you probably wouldn’t work out that they were a cyborg. Not Chanyeol though, no, he was without a doubt, not human. One day you’d come across a programming chip for him but you’d mostly warmed up to his blunt manner of speech. It, however, did not make for great bedside manner. The 6ft, blue haired, emotionally stunted cyborg was all you had so he’d have to suffice.

“If I wasn’t on the brink of death I’d get you back for that.” you mutter. You didn’t need cheek from a hunk of metal and computer chips. You needed someone to bring you soup, to make sure you took your meds, to hack the network and show you a movie your mother always put on for you when you were sick as a kid. Trust illness to bring out the needy side of you.

“Finally, someone whose life is more pathetic than mine.” he muttered. Maybe it was the fever but you were sure that the emotionless robot just sassed you. As far as you were aware, he was fully functional but unable to feel emotion or respond in a conversational way. He could only respond with logic and a severe monotone. He shouldn’t be capable of muttering, nor forming an obtuse opinion like the one he had just uttered.

You glared at him, as best as any pathetic sick person can glare at someone, from your semi prone position under your required three blankets. According to Chanyeol, three blankets were required for the bedridden and no matter how many times you tried to remove a layer he always replaced it.

Being sick made you moody and emotional, two things you tried very hard not to be in your day to day life. There was no place for moody and emotional in the scavenging business. After fixing Chanyeol to 90% of his former glory he’d remained with you, citing that he’d leave once a better option made itself available to him. He’d been a military programmed bot, special forces from the intricate wiring you found inside, as well as the larger number of chip slots. Scavengers had removed his weapons and fighting chips as well as the tactical and behavioural ones too. Somehow you’d managed to condition him to recognise warning signs, for when you needed food, rest, patching up, assistance and someone to talk to. The last one was still a work in progress, and would remain so until you could get your hands on a chip. Apparently dismantling another cyborg just for the chip was immoral, he’d flat out refused this as an option every time you brought it up.

He finished making your dinner, chicken and vegetable stew, and brought your tray over to you. He waited as you sat up in the bed, repositioning the pillows so that you were propped up and able to eat, then placed the tray in your lap. For a robot he was a pretty good cook. You kept forgetting the skills programming that most bots had these days. They all had the I-Serve-U-Bot base model, from the initial house maid prototypes, and had been build up from there. Some got military upgrades and served the country they were programmed to while others were programmed as fully functional AI, able to learn and adapt to their environment.

In a vaguely human action Chanyeol held up a finger to prevent you from starting your meal as he disappeared back to the kitchen. Small things like this made you forget that he didn’t have the proper chip to elicit these actions. Maybe if you weren’t sick you’d have picked up on it. When he returned he has two slices of buttered bread and a glass of juice for you. “Now you can eat.” You chuckled at his direction but followed it anyway.

You didn’t realise how hungry you were until you started eating and soon enough your bowl was empty. You pushed the tray forward and licked your lips, savouring the taste of the hearty meal. “Thanks Chan. I really needed that.”

“I also made brownies if you wish to have dessert.” He stated as he collected your tray, taking it back to the kitchen. You’re pretty sure you start salivating at the mere mention of your favourite dessert. How he knew is beyond you but honestly, you don’t care. All you know is that you have a great need and only brownies can satiate it. Your face must tell him that you do in fact want dessert because he nods before leaving the room. “I’ll just reheat one for you.”

“Chanyeol, you’re the only one who understands me.” You call out as he disappears from view.

“Yes, but it doesn’t mean I care.” The response was unexpected and after you stop laughing you realised it wasn’t something he’d usually say. The more you ponder on his responses as of late, the more you realise that they are decidedly more human. Something he should be unable to comprehend. Another coughing fit prevents you from dwelling on the thought.

When he returns he has a bowl with two warm brownies and ice cream in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He must have heard you coughing and decided that you required further hydration. He places the bowl in your hands and stands next to the bed with the glass of water.

“Dude, sit down, you’re looming ominously.” You move over slightly to allow him sufficient space to sit.

“I am not looming ominously. I was just waiting for you to finish the food so I could give you the water.” He responded.

You chuckled and started to eat the brownies. “Regardless, please sit? It’ll make me feel better. Holy shit, these are good.”

“They are a simple recipe. I understand that chocolate and cake makes humans feel good and there are an amalgam of the two so I deduced that they might assist in restoring your health.”

“You do care about me.” You teased.

A pair of large eyes stared back at you. They weren’t real, you knew that, the one red eye basically yelling I’m a cyborg! “Tell me something Chan.” You started.

“You need to be more specific. I know an infinite number of things.”

“When did you start learning the nuances of my speech? I haven’t found the right chip for you yet.” You asked. You might not be at your brightest right now but you weren’t so sick that you hadn’t noticed the shift in his behaviour… or the fact that he even had behaviours now.

“The last upgrade you did had a small inbuilt AI chip. It’s allowed me to process small amounts of speech and learn the emotional patterns that go with it.” The response was almost sheepish, as though he thought you might be mad with him.

You held out your hand for the water which he handed to you. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked in between sips.

“It didn’t seem relevant.” He chuckled as you handed the glass back to him, which startled you since he’d never done that before. The sound wasn’t horrible but it was foreign to you. “After all, you kept insisting that you were dying.”

You had no response to that, too floored by the sass that your previously stock standard cyborg had not been equipped with. You decided to just focus on the brownie, because you understood chocolate and ice cream and right now you did not understand Chanyeol.

He moved to get up once you finished your dessert but you grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Stay, I have more questions for you Chan.”

He placed the bowl on the floor next to the bed along with the glass of water. “You will be asleep in the next ten minutes.” You cocked your head at him. “It is the average time you remain conscious after ingesting nutrients. I’ve observed this over the past few days.”

“Then stay until I sleep, you creep. I have questions.” He sighed as he moved his body to sit next to you. Real or not, it was nice to have the body heat next to you. You shifted your body closer to his. “Warm” you muttered as you draped your arm across his torso. You started asking him about the AI chip and what it had allowed him to learn. He responded to your questions bluntly, proving to you that just because he had started to pick up on emotion, he sure as hell hadn’t mastered it yet. His warmth was making you sleepy but you had no intention of moving away from his form. “It’s only one night, we’ll just share the bed.” You whined when he tried to get up.

“I fail to see the point of this. My knowledge of medical text does not cite this as a legitimate remedy for illness.” Good to know that he wasn’t fully capable of artificial intelligence yet. The small chip only did so much it seemed.

“Shut up and comfort me. I’m dying after all.”

[hooliganwesley]

Home Restoration 101

With the variety of tv shows presently on the air, a lot of us have captured the need to renovate, that inexplicable desire to gut and rebuild our houses and produce our dream house. Whether you are pondering remodeling, bring back, or refurnishing your home, in essence what you are really aiming to do is to produce the appropriate stage for your lives and the lives of our families and friends.

Altering your home can be an incredibly satisfying process that releases your inner creativity while broadening our understanding of ourselves, our families and our goals. The key to an effective renovation can be broken down into your preparation, adaptability and research.

Of course the huge question everyone asks prior to a renovation is "Will my remodelling damage my life and family?" The sincere response to this is "Yes", but typically in a terrific and unanticipated method! Remodellings or upgrading our houses enables us to grow, to find out more about ourselves and to produce the appropriate setting for our lives that we envision living within.

HOW TO APPROACH YOUR REMODELLING

Be Realistic - If you live in a bungalow and you're renovating the basement living room and you like urban loft living, 14' ceilings and downtown views - you're not going to get it. However, if you desire it to have a contemporary flair with heat, sexiness and edge, then that is totally achievable.

Have a detailed spending plan for your job - Calculate WHATEVER from the nuts and bolts to the silks and light plates. Make certain that your Designer and/or Professional understand what the financial ceiling for each task and item is and if you go over on one of them, that it means you will need to either cut down in other places or accept the increased budget.

Research the very best specialist for you - Find the best professional that fits your job, your character and shares your design vision. Make certain to meet a minimum of 3 Designers or Specialists prior to deciding.

Understand waiting times - Custom-made couches can take up to 12 to 14 weeks. Custom-made Cabinets is typically 10 to 16 weeks - some fabrics can take up to 3 months. RESEARCH your choices so there are no misconceptions.

Put a favorable spin on the procedure - The truth is that there will be bothersome ugly days with no water or no kitchen or both. If you have kids make it an enjoyable experience, established a camping tent and go outdoor camping in a location in the house so that it's fun for them and spending plan for a hotel suite for the worst period and have all the ugly bits done throughout your lack. Ensure to think creatively on how to put the very best "spin" on the bumpy rides to your family and yourself.

Do not sweat the small things - If for some reason something is delayed beyond anybody's expectations its not going to do you any good to explode and send your blood pressure through the ceiling. In the case of the "absence" product, either reselect the item or accept that it is postponed. Literally those are the only choices so make life easier on yourself (and your family) and learn to adjust your design strategy (I always recommend having a back up choice just in case to avoid losing time and cash).

Of course prior to you can begin ANY renovation, you require to discover out "who you are" and "what is your style". You can not successfully begin this process without being able to securely specify what your design is and what the objective for your remodelling is and how you live your life. Make sure to go out and see what is readily available; go to as numerous display rooms and providers as possible.

As all of us understand, the biggest, most costly and most detailed job in refurbishing your home is your kitchen. When preparing the design for your new kitchen, identify what fits your way of life; you're growing requirements and your aesthetic appeals. Constantly bear in mind as well that your kitchen is important to the resale of your home, so strategy sensibly. Plan out not simply the big ticket items, such as appliances, flooring, kitchen cabinetry and counters however the little details that really make a style great such hardware, lighting, concealed and built in storage and items that show your character and style. Think of whether you LIKE to prepare (then include a spigot over your range), do you captivate regularly (then put a trough sink in the island), do you have a large household (then open up some walls and really make it the heart of your home. The responses to these questions will assist the components and appliances you pick for your kitchen.

When outlining out the design of the kitchen do not just take the kitchen planner or designers word that the area is perfect for you and your family. Carefully analyze your plan and believe about how to finest optimize the area in your kitchen as well as make your life simpler.

When speaking of kitchen style we are truly speaking about choices, hundreds and hundreds of choices for each element of your kitchen. For instance, when choosing your counter tops you can have tile, granite (the designer favorite), marble (stunning but not kid friendly), strong surface area, stainless-steel (streamlined and modern-day), wood, concrete (ideal for an ultra modern apartment or house), glass, laminate (the most cost effective and easily offered) and many more, not to point out the hundreds of options within each product. Do not get overwhelmed by the choices, always remember what works best for your style, your lifestyle and your SPENDING PLAN

A small kitchen can be just as much a work of art as a huge family kitchen. It simply indicates you require to plan and research two times as difficult, however frequently they can be the most dramatic since you can put more cash per square foot and make higher grade choices then you would with a big barn sized kitchen.

An often forgotten but important component to great design, in your kitchen, bath or anywhere in your home is your Lighting plan. Integrate under counter lighting pucks, overhead lighting in a cove moulding, lighting in glass fronted cabinets, a stunning component over the island or table, rope lighting concealed in a recessed tray detail in the ceiling, the choices are unlimited.

POINTERS ON KITCHEN STYLES

Usage quality materials whenever possible

Identify your Cabinet heights - floor to ceiling whenever possible

To paint or to stain

Select the best countertop you can pay for

Set Up a Kitchen Island

Do not exaggerate the adornments or information

Add interest - Add your personality

AFFORDABLE KITCHEN "FAST FIXES"

Paint your kitchen - walls, ceiling, trim, cabinets

Change your backsplash

Modification all your Kitchen Hardware

Modification the Kitchen Faucet

Include Crown Mouldings and intensify millwork

Update your accessories and small appliances

The next essential location in a house restoration and nearly as complicated as a kitchen with its endless options, choices and design is your Restroom.

WHEN PLANNING YOUR RESTROOM REMEMBER

Doors should never ever hamper making use of any component

All receptacles must be GFCI

Allow a minutes. of 6" in between fixtures

Select non slip floor covering

Provide ambient, task and accent lighting

Designate locations for storage

Think about how to motivate sense of personal privacy

Our bathrooms are our individual haven to renew our spirit and our energy; they are house Spa's that act as a sanctuary after a trying day. Crucial to this is the style of your shower, now the most sought after element in a terrific bathroom design and an important information on resale. Go to a range of display rooms, the options are unlimited from steam, waterfall, multi jet and massage options. Keep in mind to pamper yourself and treat yourself in addition to you do a guest. Always pick the very best components that your spending plan will permit and really research study the best offer. I have actually seen products at showrooms for 2500 dollars for a product and after that shopped online and gotten the precise very same product for less than half! Browse, research and shop smartly and do not forget to constantly sit in your bath tub or Jacuzzi before you buy it. What is comfortable for one is not always comfy for another.

Always remember while refurbishing your kitchen, your bathroom or any other room in your home that the goal is to create the correct phase for our lives, our family and friends that finest exemplifies your spirit and reveals who you want to be and how you wish to live. Inspire yourself, difficulty yourself and ENJOY yourself and those you enjoy and do not ever hesitate of change.

[gingerstorm101]

A Little Too Late

Summary: Years after the death of Ziva, a case comes up where Tony finds that she was keeping a secret from him.

AOL

FF.net

The pop music rings loudly in her car as she speeds around the corner, making a quick stop at the targeted house comes into sight. Spotting her brother's car parked in the driveway to the house, she pulls in behind him, hastily turns off the engine, and jumps out of the car. Running over an hour late she is surprised he hadn't called her.

Walking around the back of the semi, she slips into the back door. "Steve!" She calls. "Sorry I'm late, there was an accident off of Main, many people are late for work because of it. You wouldn't believe the number of emergency vehicles across the northbound, even part of the southbound was blocked!" Ashley continues, walking through the house. "Hello? Steve?" Stepping into the living room, she freezes, her hands shaking as they raise to her mouth. Less than a moment passes before she lets out a high-pitched scream. On the floor before her lays a man, her brother, with a single gunshot through his head.

***

Tony was becoming more and more like him every day. He didn't mean to, it just… Happened. He walks into the squad room with a coffee in his right hand and a folder in his left. Tossing the folder onto the desk across from him, he addresses his newest agent. "Do it again, O'Riley." He didn't see the jaw drop on the young man, instead taking a swig of his drink and turned towards his desk, sitting down to check his emails.

O'Riley looks over to McGee, the file in his hand. "Again?"

"Don't take it too hard, Josh. Everyone has to rewrite their case report at least twice." The senior field agent reassures the young man.

Tony laughs. "Don't lie to the boy, Timmy." He catches his friend's eye, "You never had to rewrite yours." O'Riley visibly deflates before him.

McGee smirks. "But you had to rewrite yours three times, ain't that right, boss?" Tony stiffens and glares at him. Out of the corner of his eye, the newest agent sighs in relief.

On the other side of the bullpen, Agent Johnson smiles, her hand folded in front of her. "Don't worry Josh, I also had to redo mine."

O'Riley opens his mouth to reply but is cut off by the phone on Tony's desk ringing.

"DiNozzo," McGee looks over to his boss, taking in the signs and putting things away. "Yeah, got it." Hanging up, he grabs his coffee and his bag. "Grab your gear."

McGee was the first one to leave his desk, closely followed by Johnson and last, O'Riley running after the team and into the elevator.

***

Tony walks into the living room of the semi, his mind elsewhere as he takes in the pictures of a man with his parents and sister, and even a few with his friends. The pictures reminding him of a certain Israeli woman, and the photos she had on display at her apartment before she packed it all up and left it behind. His heart still hurts from that day she told him she was going back to her birthplace, and still broken from the day he had left her behind there, all those years ago.

A flash from the camera brings Tony back to the present moment, blinking away the blindness. "Sorry Boss," the young agent apologies, lowering the camera. "I thought you saw m- I should have waited."

"Careful O'Riley, you've been an agent for two months now, you should know to keep an eye all around, and not just what's in front of you. Got it?" He nods, shifting on his feet before returning to the crime scene.

Tony looks around the scene, watching McGee dust for prints along the door. "Got anything, Tim?" He says quietly, his voice just above a whisper, crouching down to a level with his Senior Field Agent.

McGee hummed, taking a picture. "Just one." Taking the crime scene kit to dust around the evidence he has found. "Just this bloody print. Looks like there was a child involved, considering the size." He says, finding nothing to go along with the first print. "But other than this, it looks like a clean job, I don't see a single print anywhere near this door besides the bloody one."

"If there was a child involved, it wouldn't be one from this household, the guy has pictures of everyone except a child. Doesn't even look like he's married." He looks over at his longest coworker, both giving each other a confused look. "You positive that this is a child's fingerprint, McGoo?"

Rolling his eyes, the man answers. "I'm positive Tony, this finger is too small to be a woman's print. It has to be a child." McGee pulls out a swab to sample the blood on the doorframe. "And from the lack of prints. I'm determined that this might just be a professional hit." Tony didn't need to say anymore, knowing that the other man would dust for prints all over the house.

Tony looks around the room, particularly the floor. Something was missing. "McGee," The man looks up in question. "Did you already collect the shell?"

He shakes his head, lowering the brush. "There wasn't any, Tony, the guy must have policed his brass."

Tony nods, agreeing with his earlier assessment. "Johnson!" He calls for his final agent, who walks into the room with Palmer right behind her. The Medical Examiner gets straight to work by himself, getting assistance from Josh.

"Yes, boss?"

He steps over to the woman, out of McGee's way. "What did the witness have to say?"

Sandra clears her throat, flipping open her notebook. "Ashley Morgan, sister to our victim, Stephen Morgan, was supposed to have breakfast together, last heard from him when she had left her house at 7:30 this morning, through texting, got stuck in traffic and was over an hour late. At 9:30, she came through the backdoor to find him dead in the living room."

He nods to his agent before calling over to Palmer. "Jimmy, when did this guy die?"

"Uh," The medical examiner hesitates. "Death between two and three hours ago." Between seven and eight this morning.

"It matches up with the witness' statement, she last talked to her brother at 7:30, Palmer, must have been shortly after that." Making quick notes, Tony orders Sandra to help McGee to dust the house. Tony wanders around the small house checking for anything that might be out of place. It didn't take long before he stopped in front of O'Riley. "Josh, what seems odd about this situation?"

The young man looks around the room, taking notice of the furniture. "The house is clean?"

"Well, besides that, O'Riley."

"It doesn't look like there was a struggle."

"I can second that." Palmer jumps in.

Tony nods to the two. "Exactly. In what world would a man who has a gun pointed at him, not struggle to get away?"

"Well, actually boss, there are many-"

"That was a rhetorical question O'Riley, keep up!" He knew the boy was still getting used to how he handled the team, but being part of a co-op group with a different team didn't get him much in learning how Anthony DiNozzo lead his team. He would be lost if Gibbs hadn't retired. "You don't just let a stranger into your house, especially if they are armed, and not struggle. That could only mean one thing…" He leaves the end of his statement open for his probie. After a moment the boy was still silent. He jesters to Josh, hoping to give him a clue.

"Oh!" O'Riley straightens his back. "He knew his attacker!" It will take time, but the boy was growing into a decent investigator. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, he had a lot of work to do with this Probie.

***

With his third cup of coffee in his hand, Tony walks into the squad room to see his team hard at work. This is what he likes to see, and what he guesses what Gibbs liked to see before he retired all those years ago. But it was coming onto lunchtime, and the team should have enough information on the victim. "What do you got?" He asks before taking a sip.

Around the bullpen, the team quickly gets to their feet, and the plasma screen switches on, McGee grabs the clicker, standing in the lineup beside their boss.

They start.

"Sergeant Stephen Morgan, age 27, lives with a roommate, Carl Romone, currently serving in Afghanistan and won't be back for another five months. Other than Carl, Stephen is single and lives alone."

"His only family is his younger sister, Ashley, who found him this morning after a brief conversation with him only minutes before his death. Both of his parents died in a car crash when he was 18, he stepped up and took care of his sister."

"Stephen lives off of his military salary as all the money they would have inherited went towards their mother's gambling debt."

Tony scans over the evidence in front of him, pondering. "Anything on the bloody print we found?"

O'Riley hit the clicker, pulling up the print with a question mark photo beside it. He hid his smirk. "We are still waiting on the results from Abby."

***

The ding of the bell indicates to him, he was in the basement, armed with a Caf-Pow, he and McGee walk into the Forensic lab. He walks to the beat of the music, his senior agent bobbing his head. "New music, Abs?" He asks the woman in the lab coat.

Abby spins around in her spot, her skirt flaring up as she twirled. "Uh, huh! It's my friends' band, Franken Matter!" She says loudly, probably going deaf after years of concerts.

"Franken-"

"-Matter?" The two men question, glancing over at one another, brows arching.

"Yah-huh!" The woman continues to talk to McGee about the twins.

Tony takes a pace around the room, watching as the machines worked on their assigned duties as the two catch up. The room has changed little in the last twenty-five years, but the upgraded equipment fawns over and treats like her children. Something that the woman never had, and will probably stay that way. Out of all the members of the team, McGee and Palmer were the only ones to really settle down and have a family. Maybe it was his biggest regret, but that ship sailed when the love of his life passed away in a house fire.

He blinks twice, focusing his mind back on the present. "Do you got anything, Abby?"

She twirls around, her gaze landing on him. "There wasn't much evidence to work on, as you guys said, the house was rather tidy for a murder to take place. The only fingerprints I got were from the victim, his sister, and our mystery child, so I'm just waiting on that. The blood is an ‘A' Positive, doesn't match Stephen Morgan or his sister."

"Did Jimmy retrieve the bullet?"

"Yes," Abby faces her computer screen, pulling up the squished bullet fragment. "But we have little to work with, if we had the shell case, I could have gotten more from it."

"But we don't..." He says with a frown.

"But we don't." She repeats. The room goes quiet for a minute before Tony hears the beeping of Abby's computer. He glances over to see ‘100% Match' written across the screen. With a couple of clicks of the keyboard, she comments. "This isn't right."

Realization dawned on him when he looks up at the screen. It couldn't possibly be correct, the person on the screen couldn't possibly exist.

Before him was a picture of a little girl with dark brown curly locks and emerald green eyes. Her name none other than Talia A. David.

[canadianpharmacieswebsite]

Shortest Path Bridging (SPB)

For those of you who have been around long enough to know that “token ring” is not something a guy gives a girl when he’s not ready to get married but wants her to stick around, You are going to LOVE SPB! For those of you newer to networking, you’ll love it too, but perhaps not with the same level of appreciation. And yes, I am almost afraid to admit that I understand that ArcNet is not a type of basketball shot, and that at one time ATM was NOT a machine that you used to withdraw funds from your account. But maybe that explains why I am so excited about the new era of networking that is known as “Fabric”. Over the years we have seen the number of Data Link and Network Layer protocols whittled down to Ethernet and IP, while the number of routing protocols (RIP, RIPII, OSPF) and Transport Layers (UDP, TCP, RDP) increased to address the advent of new applications emerging. I stand in awe of the folks on the IETF along with their ingenuity to extend IPV4 well past its expected lifespan through creative methods devised via subnetting, use of private subnets, NAT, spoofing, etc. You really need to take your hat off to these creative individuals. Talk about making the most of something! That being said, deploying a network in the era of the “Internet of things”, is to say the least quite challenging. Those of you who are tasked with maintaining the IP Addressing and extending the network to support the vast number of users and devices in a secure fashion are to be commended. I sympathize with all of you who have to carve out an IP range, negotiate for a maintenance window to deploy a new application, and then have to spend late night hours programming each switch (ingress/egress) with the IP addresses that you manually input. Hoping that you input each of the 32 bits correctly without a fat finger or dyslexic moment. Some of you are so adept at writing the scripts that are executed at each point that you remind me of those irritating folks in typing class (yes, back then it was typing, not keyboarding) that could type 100 words per minute without a mistake. Quite unnatural, even freakish I’d say. Anyway, back to networking. I almost forgot, multicast. Great IDEA! But woe to those of you with Cisco or Enterasys networks, should you be asked to deploy. Welcome SPB! I can only imagine that some very bright, out of the box thinkers must have been sitting in a room with a really big white board pondering these issues. Or perhaps they sat in a brew house discussing them over a few beers when they decided to make a list. This list consisted of all the networking protocols, and in another column all the services these protocols performed and in yet another column the problems the protocols were created to solve. Finally in the last column, all the challenges associated with them. I can just see them sitting back and asking themselves, “What if we could create a NEW networking standard that could do all the good things, and eliminate the problems”… hmmmm – the birth of SPB! SPB is a scalable (it can grow really big!), extensible (it can support new devices, applications, etc.), secure (you can’t hack what you can’t see), fast (lots of high speed links), resilient (it can have a link or two or three… go down and your packets still get around), and simple (zero touch cores, endpoint only provisioning, no more scripts, maintenance windows, or all-nighters!). Here are the common denominators of networking today: Layer 1: Cabling standards: * Copper Twisted Pair (Cat 6e). Yes, we still run into Cat 5e and via the use of ingenuous designs we can also ride over Cat 3 but… * Fiber: Single Mode / Multi-Mode with SC or LC connectors * Air Waves: 802.11ac is the current flavor of WiFi. In a very short time, everyone will be using ac. Since the standard is relatively new, you will see a lot of legacy WiFi with 802.11n, but manufactures are now offering APs that have software upgradeable options * Layer 2: Ethernet 10/100/1000 There were a number of competing standards in the early days but Ethernet was declared the winner a long time ago (at least in networking years). * Layer 3: IP Won in the Enterprise There were also a number of competing standards in the early days but IP was declared the winner in that arena. Anyone shedding a tear over IPX or AppleTalk? However, in the carrier space there have been protocols that we mere mortals rarely encounter. One of these protocols is IS-IS that is renowned for scalability. (This is a hint) A new standard has emerged that blends the best of L2, L3 and the concept of virtualization, that standard is… SPB. It takes the best of all the rest and combines them to create a virtualized network with ease of configuration and inherent scalability through the use of IS-IS in the core of the Fabric. Ethernet endpoints can now be added to the Fabric by simply configuring the ingress (Entry point) port and Egress (Exit Point). The Fabric will automatically determine the best and shortest path through the network automatically. How? The intermediate devices (switches with Fabric and SDN) communicate and negotiate to provide the Shortest Path with the best available service to Bridge the two Points together = SPB. How? Well, the devices talk amongst themselves and exchange information about who knows about what and they maintain tables of the paths, their speed and link states. SPB uses the concept of VLANs but at a whole new level. While VLANs imposed a limit of 4096 VLANs, SPB allows over 16 Million VRFs (Virtual Route Fabric) to be created and SPB devices are provided VID (Virtual InDentifiers). Those of you who are familiar with Routing protocols and the concept of Link States will be right at home with SPB, because as I previously stated, SPB took the best of the rest, eliminated the negative components, and combined them to create a scalable (you can grow it really, really big across large geographic areas), secure (you can’t hack what you can’t see), extensible (add any protocol or application you need to your network – event ones that haven’t been written yet), and simple (a few technicians can configure and run an enormous, extremely complex network all by themselves, easily). One of the most gratifying aspects of the protocol is that it gives the technical staff back their life! Yes, their life. How you ask? Because they don’t have to spend their holiday weekends rolling out new applications or adding another site. The Management tools provide an easy to use interface that enables the users to become involved as much or as little as they want. In Summary SPB is: – Plug and Play – Ethernet attached – Has a Symbiotic relationship with IP and Ethernet – Scalable – Uses VRF offering (16 Million) – Creates a seamless, consistent, contextually relevant experience – Offers One protocol that does all the routing and switching at once – With no complexity – Edge Only Configuration – Protection for applications All with major: – Cost reduction to build and maintain network – 20-30% savings in hardware, Rackspace, – Reduction in time to deploy. – reduce provisioning 80% – Operational expense saving of 87% through reduction in time to service and time to deploy – 37% of all network outage is a result of human error at the core – 5 9’s reliability (less than 4 minutes downtime annually) – Usage of ISID 802.1ah protocol for simplicity SPB Offers support that includes – 16 million services – A Network that becomes invisible/No IP Visibility – 1 Hop through the Fabric to the Internet for low latency – Integrated Routing & Switching – A Fabric that is a single state machine – Isolation of services – Simple endpoint provisioning – Flexible – Multiple Services – Secure – Separation of Networks – Zero Touch Core – Fabric Attach o Zero Touch Edge o No Clients – The Endpoint/Client connections trigger auto configuration of ISID, VLANs, port membership, etc. – Automatically, authenticated, authorized, and provisioned to automatically connect the client to the required services. SPB is the foundation for: – SDN – Automation – A network that does not require tuning every day

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[demes-tumbled-sims]

Avyan Immortal Dynasty, Chapter 4: Breathmints for All

Index

<- Previous

Since Gino’s night of fishing was a tremendous success, he’s taking some time off; called up a neighbor, one Mila Munch. She was with the welcome wagon when he moved in, and I guess he liked knowing there was someone closer to his own age in the neighborhood. Can’t blame him.

“No, I’ve never been a family man. The sea’s a lonely place… Sometimes, feels like a bit of a waste,” he’s explaining, still in his PJs of all things. Not that I’ve never done that; a good pair of PJs can get you through a whole day, right?

“It’s hardly a waste to do what you love!” She proclaims, fervently. “I try and tell my boys the value of a dedication passion, of going out into the wilderness (especially Gunther, who needs a little wilderness), of the value of hard work.”

“I don’t regret it, not exactly; kept me having the time of my life for years! But I’ll say you’ve got the gumption of any sailor, raising those boys on your own! There’s a lot of value of filling your life with people you love, giving them a guide in the world. It’s real swell you can do that.”

“Oh, you shameless flatterer,” she chuckles. “But now you’re closer to the city.”

“I’m doin’ more river-fishin’ these days. Better on the joints. Still got to get up early -- and the fish have to get up early to get past me!”

They both laugh about that for a while.

“I am to understand that Miss Avyan keeps a well-stocked bar,” she says, rising. “Let me pour you a drink; I have a taste for such things.”

“That would be nice.”

No, you can’t fault the old guy for wanting a friend.

Or more than a friend.

“...Mila. I’ll admit, I’m not the best talker in town. But I want you to know. If you could find the time… I’d really love it, if every so often, a beautiful, charming woman like you could stop by and spend some time with me.”

“I think you’re selling yourself short! There’s a lot to recommend, enjoying your time with someone with so many stories, who’s so… energizing, to be around. It’s important to spend time with...someone you care for.”

Well, I’m not going to eavesdrop after that. I think that, you know, unlike some men… He might just want someone in his life.

I’ve got my own accomplishments; some people were busy today; not that I’ll fault Gino his getting busy.

I was scoring a promotion, for starters. Been a long day, and I came out on top.

And since I am the champion, with a bit more cash to throw around…

Bam, house upgrade! ...It’ll look much better when we can slap a second floor up there. One simoleon at a time.

I worry about the new roomie there; it’s not normal for a guy to cry in his sleep. Well, he seems kind of lonely.

Oh, well. I mention it to Zest, just after he’d gotten a phonecall from Candy. He grins and clicks his phone off, casually tossing it to his opposite hand, and he says, “I’ll take care of it! I know just the thing to cheer a guy up.”

“A double-date! Breathmints for all.” “I could use some,” says Candy, staring pointedly at him. “I was really sick. This morning.” “Aw. Hope you feel better.” He orders breakfast.

...Zest is...sure something. And by ‘something,’ I mean ‘a person who is missing an unsubtle clue.’ I wasn’t there, but I can promise you:

He was missing her point.

Speaking of things getting missed...

“It’s so frustrating, seeing everyone with someone but you, isn’t it, Ulrike? It’s so annoying, when people are so public, right?” Akira asks, shooting a glance at the other couples enjoying breakfast. I’d heard he was a jealous type. “...I think a little romance is nice. There’s no need to get all worked up.” As Ulrike answered, there was the subtle noise of a chair scootching back. Swing and a miss there, Akira. Swing and a miss.

Well, while they’re off muddling about their time, I’m up and about and working my way through my skills.

Behold! With this tumbler, I’ve cleared another barrier, and onto my third stage of my mixology aspiration. I’ll need to have a social occasion soon.

“Sooo, when do we want for a wedding?” Miko asks, sidling up close to me on the couch while a culinary training video plays in the background. Ah, yes, another social event I need to think about.

“Well, we’re going to go for fancy dresses here, right? Guests are a must. I’ll bake a cake.”

“I want our toppers to be something cool! Maybe elves? Ah, no, a lady and a knight!” she said, waving a finger at her own change in suggestion. I chuckle.

“I’ll see if there’s a suitably cool and lady-like knight option.” Armor could make up the difference. “OK, so we’re going to need a lot of time, but… It’ll be hard for us to find time, for a while.”

“That’s true; we basically work opposite schedules. Every night, the moon comes and steals you away, just when I get home; and when you awake, I must depart! It’s all so very Ladyhawke... maybe you transform into a wolf.” The drama of her sigh is patently manufactured… But we both giggle anyway.

“I’m a kestral, aren’t I? So I’m the hawk here! We can’t afford to miss…”

“So we’re going to have to be patient, alright, babe? Until our next mutual day off.” It rankles a little to not be in control of my schedule. Oh, well.

In the meanwhile, we take what moments we can; little kisses as we wind down like this -- a brush of our fingers over a morning cup of coffee -- every time she turns, the urge to just reach out and grab her is irresistible. Maybe I really am a bird of prey.

“Hey, Kest?” Zest brings his breakfast out to the porch the next morning. “Zest.” I wait for him to explain the uneasy look on his face. “...So. I’ve got, I mean, haha, I guess it’s good news, but -- well, you know how no news is good news? This is news. Ha.” He pushes my perfectly good leftovers around on his plate. “... Maaike had a baby.”

“No kidding.” And the last horse crosses the finish line. I pour him a celebratory drink that we can take inside. “Congrats, poppa! What’s the scamp’s name?”

“Hobart... Haas.”

“...Hobart.” I ignore the worry in his voice over the kid’s last name not being his, born to another household and all, in favor of this series of wedgies laid out across this poor boy’s lifetime, which just so happened to take the form of a name. A name like Hobart. For entirely separate reasons, we stare off into a great middle distance.

“What should I do? I’m not ready to settle down! I don’t want to take care of a kid!” He bursts out, when I have adequately adjusted to the intense wave of nomenclature-based disappointment that washed over me. Hobart. I ponder my approach here.

“Jonathan Zest --”

“When you say it like that, it doesn’t sound like Jonathan should even be a name,” Zest interjects. “Sounds like you made it up, even though it’s my name. Weird, right?”

“You have a choice,” I ignore this other name vortex into which I am being pulled. “You either be sweet to that girl, do right by her… Or. You don’t. You let her worry about her business -- you have fun having yours. You let it go. Let it all go.”

He doesn’t tell me his answers in words, so much. But he’s not ready for one girl. He won’t worry, and the choice is immediate.

Best of luck, I guess.

I’d like to call your attention to something.

That is a man eating a raw lemons. He just eats two raw lemons and goes back to fishing. What a nightmare.

He needs a break. He really does. I worry about how many more angelfish we can get out; he’s only got the one, and all, but if having Mila over to chat about fishing, and cooking, and what looks like a nice little baby bump she’s got going there. I think I heard them talking about names -- hopefully, they go with some of they better ideas, like ‘Julian,’ so we don’t have to contemplate another Hobart.

He’s not the only person with a guest, though. Akira invited Ulrike over to apologize for the other day. “I am sorry,” he explains. “I just meant… Well, I want something wonderful, and special, and perfect. I can get a little rough sometimes about it. But also like gestures like this to be intimate. Personal, and private, and without anything in the way.”

“Just like this. Isn’t this nice?” “It is,” and Ulrike relaxes, melts into him.

So he’s finally making some progress. 

There’s something funny about it, though. I go to work. I come back from work. I am immediately dragged by Catarina out to karaoke, all the household’s young people. I grumble, because I am tired enough to pass out right there on the sidewalk, but…

I may just know a girl who loves karaoke like I love the satisfaction of being right, and so, there we go.

And Akira, for a guy who just got a girlfriend, looks like he’s fit to tear out his hair. Weird. We more or less scatter after that.

Zest talks to Catarina, but I’m going to save you a lot of time and tell you to just put a pin in it, it goes nowhere right now.

Akira gets closer to somewhere, entering in a private room with just one occupant: this married lady, Anaya Jang.

“Don’t you want something more? Something that leaves you completely satisfied, someone that feels really, truly yours? I… I want that. I just can’t believe --” He breaks off, his body tensing “I can’t believe your husband can give you that. But I think I can. I want that. Do you?”

“I want it like I want a grilled cheese sandwich.”

This gives him a moment of pause, the romantic tension of the moment broken.

“...Is that a lot?” He just had sort of been picturing a metaphorical hunger up until this point, if I had to guess.

“It is.”

“...We’ll see about the sandwich later, then,” he says, managing what I would call an A+ attempt to sound seductive about grilled cheese.

And as for me…

I tell Miko to pick the songs; frankly, I will be happy if I can stand upright through the whole thing. The music started, and a microphone lands in my lap.

“It’s a duet. You’ve got the first part, OK?” She asks. I sigh with mock reluctance, nod, and get into the rhythm. Her face lights up.

“Don’t go breaking my heart.” “I couldn’t if I tried.” “Oh honey, if I get restless --” “Baby, you’re not that kind.”

We share a little smirk over the role reversal there, as if I were the one to worry about getting restless. But we can chuckle about it, and let the song wash around us. I try my best to keep up, and I’d say I do a pretty good job -- one day, I’ll beat her. You’ll see. For now, though, I’m content to just watch the smile on her face until I’m about dead on my feet.

[bestfriendforhire]

Entry 372

 “James!  I came back!” exclaimed Noelle, surprising me by remembering my name a day later.  She was hugging Emma and possibly forgot to let go.  “Mila’s been introducing me to everyone!”

 “Reintroducing, really.” argued Emma, who was patting Noelle’s head.  “We met yesterday.”

 “Sorry.” mumbled Noelle, sounding downtrodden.  Then she smiled and proudly exclaimed “I remembered that Emma likes hugs!”

 “Yep.  I should have told her I like hugs.” claimed Brandon before getting elbowed by Deyanira, who was sitting on his lap.

 “Do you?” questioned Noelle.

 “Don’t worry.  I give him plenty.” insisted Deyanira as she elbowed Brandon again.

 “Did Mila explain our morning exercises to you?” I asked Noelle.

 “Umm… Probably?” she replied, looking concerned.

 “Master, Noelle was detained by her sister.  Jamie didn’t really believe that Noelle had found a job so quickly and thought I was in cosplay rather than being an actual maid.” explained Mila.  “I eventually did get her to believe me after showing her our website and giving in-depth detail of the types of jobs Noelle will be doing.”

 I wondered if Noelle remembered that she had a job before Mila arrived to get her, but I wasn’t going to ask her, worrying I might cause her anxiety.  “Thank you, Mila.  Hopefully, things will be easier from here on out.”

 “Jamie was so excited!  She cried!  Not a sad cry, I think.  This seemed like a happy cry.  I bet she’ll tell her fiancé today.  Maybe she already has.” pondered Noelle as if considering whether or not she should know the correctness of her own assertions.

 I remained dubious about whether or not we’d be able to train Noelle, but Mila seemed confident.  I reminded myself that Aaliyah too thought Noelle belonged here.  This would work out.

 “Jaaaaaaaaaaames!” exclaimed Kayla as she ran down the hall.

 Knowing roughly where she was from the sound, I created a spell to mute the noise and another one to fetch her, using a number of additions to hone in on her location and lift her gently.

 When she came flying into the room, Noelle jumped behind Emma.

 Lifting the noise dampening, I said, “Kayla, you were running and yelling through the halls again.”

 “Sorry, James.” she mumbled.

 “So why were you looking for me?” I asked, staring into her eyes when she looked up.

 “Well… Mila’s supposed to give me a ride later to see my friend, Katie, and I was wanting to go in a limo, but Mila said that we can’t take one without your permission, so I wanted to come ask you.” she rapidly explained.

 “I see.  Why do you feel you need a limo for two people?” I questioned.

 “Uh… They’re cooler?” she suggested with a grin.

 “Not really.  If you were to translate the price of vehicles into equivalent coolness as you’ve been doing of late, master’s DB5 is actually the most valuable car on the lot due to the modifications done to it which exceed the modifications of the limo.  I must also point out that the original DB5 was actually more valuable as well before modifications.” argued Mila.

 I frowned and said, “Kayla, you’re surrounded by valuable things, but how much you enjoy them for what they are matters far more.  My daughter’s paintings mean far to me than any from most other artists around the building.  I only say ‘most’ because I have a painting from an old friend as well as one from my mother.”

 “But Dani’s like the best painter ever!” insisted Kayla.

 “Yet her paintings wouldn’t sell for nearly as much as some of the others around the house.” I replied.

 “But why not!?  They’re really good!” she exclaimed.

 I smiled and said, “Dani’s artwork isn’t well enough known to sell for as much as my mother’s, much less compare with the great artists of history.  Figure out what you like best and go with it.  You know Dani always does.”  What I said was actually very misleading.  Though Dani’s artwork wasn’t valuable on Earth, her pieces were already considered priceless throughout most of the universe.

 “Is he the sweetest person ever?” questioned Noelle with wide eyes.

 “Pretty much.” replied Emma with a smirk.

 I refrained from smiling as I asked Kayla if she had finished her homework yet.

 “Uh…  Catch you later!” she exclaimed, turning and walking quickly out of the room immediately.

 “She is in a way.” stated Mila.  “I’ve been increasing her load considerably to keep her busy, so she’s actually far past what her friends are studying.”

 I nodded and said, “We’ll get her tinkering with Jarod in no time.”

 “You’ll need to be the one to tell Jemal.” replied Mila with a smile.

 “Who’s Jarod?” whispered Noelle.

 “Not sure you met him yet.  He’s usually in his lab or with his wives.” replied Emma.

 Noelle nodded and then looked back at Emma.  “Wives!?  Is he a… uh…”

 “He’s a Jarod.  You’ll see.” replied Emma.

 “Let’s get Noelle around for more introductions.  Mila, mind leading the way?” I asked.

 “Would you follow me anywhere?” she teased.

 “Behave.” I replied with a smile.

 “Mila looks similar to his wife and flirts twice as much.” whispered Emma and she guided Noelle behind me.

 Glancing back, Mila asked “Just twice as much?  Am I failing to do your teaching justice?”

 Emma giggled and said, “Fine, ten times as much!”

 “Much better.” replied Mila as she looked forward again.

 I’d have to double check later that Mila did inform Emma of Noelle’s romantic preferences, so she didn’t get her hopes up again.  No, actually.  Mila would have handled it.  Emma was just being nice as always.

 When we reached Jarod’s lab, he was giving Aurora instructions.  They seemed to be working with Mila on a car design.

 “Aurora wants her own transportation.  The prototype flying car won’t be approved for city use within the year.” stated Mila.  “She also seems determined to pay for it herself.  Don’t worry.  I’m giving her our company discount on materials.”

 I nodded.

 “Car?  Company discount?” questioned Noelle.

 “Yes!  Mila, Jarod, and Aurora take care of everyone’s cars for us, even upgrading them as they develop better parts.” explained Emma, pointing out who was who as she said their names.  Pointing at Maxine, she said, “That one may or may not help.  She is really bright, just a bit mischievous.

 “That’s so cool!  Think I could eventually pay them to work on Jamie’s?” questioned Noelle with a smile.  “She always takes me places.”

 Mila quickly reminded her “I’ll be taking you places now, but we can most certainly work on your sister’s car whenever she needs something done.  We’re best friends for hire, after all, excluding Maxine.”

 “That’s awesome!  I should get a car eventually.  If I call you, will you remind me where I park it?”

 Mila nodded and said, “I’ll also call to remind you that you parked it when your jobs are over.”

 “Really!?  That’s awesome!  I once borrowed Jamie’s and… um… we kinda spent a week looking for it.”

 “Don’t worry.  I intend to install an incredible tracking system on your keys and vehicle when the time comes.” replied Mila.

 “Sure you don’t want one on me too?” teased Noelle.

 “Your phone suffices when you remember it, but I’m adept at finding people even if you forget.  When you get your company enhancement suit, I’ll be able to track it.  Raine, the skittish girl you met yesterday, will find you if I cannot.” explained Mila.

 “Wow.  How?” questioned Noelle.

 “Scent, probably.  She has many gifts.”

 Jarod caught sight of us, waved, and said, “Hey, guys.  Nice to meet you, Noelle.  Come check this thing out!”  The diagrams moved to larger screens on the wall as he started explaining his favorite parts.  Toward the end, he said, “Aurora came up with this sweet composite to be used in the suspension system here.”  He pointed, and the screen zoomed to the right part.  “I’m going to have to modify everyone’s cars again if all this works as well as we think.  I’d also like you to do a bit of spellwork on it if you don’t mind.  Since this is for her use only, we left out the batteries entirely and created plans based off what we know you can do.”

 “Sure thing.  Out of curiosity, what would you do if I actually declined?” I questioned.

 “Well, I’ve had this idea of creating a biomechanical battery and thought a bit of Iris’ DNA might give it a little extra spark.” replied Jarod with a crazy grin.

 “Personally, I still prefer that idea.” stated Maxine.

 I nodded, having an idea of how to get that to work.  Aaliyah had talked plenty of the relationship between the soul and the body over the years and such a feat was feasible without magical aptitude, albeit much harder.  I looked forward to seeing what he’d manage.

[anavantgardener]

Frost and Mischief Ch. 3

Summary: In this, the third chapter of Frost and Mischief, Elska settles into her new role as Lady in Waiting.

Pairing: OC x Loki Laufeyson

Warnings: fluff???

Word Count: 2,700, a short one!

-----

An Apology Overdue

Prince Loki burst out laughing as King Odin's face reddened. Poor Prince Thor had no clue as to how to respond to his mother's statement. Elska herself nearly dropped to her knees in pure delight.

Me, a lady in waiting for the queen of the Nine Realms, she was overjoyed.

"My queen," the All-father stuttered out. "What benefits could this possibly bring to the royal family, to the city of Asgard as a whole? She does not even bear Asgardian blood!"

"First of all, she is clearly quite gifted with magic," Queen Frigga waved her hand towards Elska, who was finally coming back to reality. "With training, who knows what she could do. She has the potential to be one of the greatest Masters of Magic the Nine Realms have ever seen."

"Mastery of magic is not all one needs to be a productive member of society, let alone the palace" the king huffed.

"Technically," Prince Thor gave a large, oblivious smile to his father. "She has been a productive member of the palace. She knows just how I like my tea. None of the palace staff get that right."

The queen gave a happy nod to her oldest.

Two members of the royal family on my side, very nice indeed. Elska raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, but as a lady in waiting she would not be waiting on you anymore, boy," King Odin glowered. His face was becoming rather like a strawberry.

"Additionally," the queen began again. "Dear Elska is quite learned in the history of the Nine Realms, courtesy of myself."

The king's brow furrowed before Queen Frigga continued.

"She's trained in magic, she has already proven her dedication to both the palace and the royal family, and she knows the history of our entire kingdom like the back of her hand," the queen stated. "A bit of etiquette training and she will be a perfect member of the Asgardian court."

It was getting harder and harder for the king to say no. He loved his wife, and as much as he truly despised Elska's heritage, he knew the queen was fond of her. She was a valued companion, and very practically a daughter to his wife.

"My king, if I may," Elska knew how she needed to play this. She curtsied, head bowed. "I know this palace better than any of the other servants and palace staff. I can train them, even train someone to take my place before I would fully take the position of the queen's lady in waiting. If it be your will, I may spend the remainder of the week training a servant to fill my position while also preparing myself for my new role."

Looking to his wife and then back to the girl standing before him, King Odin began shaking his head. His decision was made.

"I would not even know who to choose to take your place," he said, rubbing his temples before continuing. "Perhaps you have an idea?"

Elska's face lit up. She knew just the girl for the job.

"Indeed I do," she smiled. "Eira Bjorndotter."

*****

Heading back to the dwelling that night, Elska could hardly contain her excitement. She had never been so happy in all her life. She decided she would take the long way home so as to enjoy the moment as long as she could.

As she was walking through the palace gardens, Prince Loki suddenly seemed to materialize out of the rose bushes Elska was passing.

"Hello, there," he greeted her with a smile as she jumped.

"My prince," she curtsied, catching her breath. "Do you often walk the gardens at night, appearing out of thin air and scaring passers by?"

"Only for a special few," Prince Loki held his hands behind his back as he fell in step with her. "I wanted to congratulate you on your new position."

"Thank you, my prince, but first there is something that I believe is overdue," Elska stopped to face him. She curtsied again. "I must apologize to you. What I said to you upon our last meeting was cruel and inappropriate. I am forever grateful to you for keeping the incident from your father."

As the words left her mouth, it was like a final weight had lifted off her chest, and now, everything was right with the world.

With a pensive look, Prince Loki gestured to a bench nearby. The two sat down, looking out at the beautiful view. From their seat, they could see where the clear night sky met the tops of the houses in the upper district. Below the horizon, flower bushes dotted their view like constellations of their own.

"In all honesty, there is nothing to apologize for," he said, turning to look at her. "Each word you spoke was true. I could not understand what it is like to come from that area of life."

He paused, and in his thoughtfulness was a sort of beauty. Elska admired the peace that his features took on when the young prince sat in pondering silence.

"In the moment, I was quite flustered," Prince Loki continued. "I felt angry, but I was also puzzled by the point you had made. I spend so much time sulking in my studies, surrounded by knowledge and vast education that I continuously soak up, yet never once have I thought that anyone might not be privy to that sort of learning."

"I think it only natural for people to find themselves honed in on their own way of life," Elska said after a moment. "In time, each person comes to realize that there is an infinite number of other ways people live that must be accounted for. What matters is what we do with that information. We can sit, denying or even resenting it, maybe both. Or, we can embrace it and open our minds to the idea that we can always help, no matter who we are and what we can do."

Elska leaned back and closed her eyes, soaking in the moonlight, and for the first time, Prince Loki gazed upon the beauty she truly was. Snowy, pale skin sharply contrasted by her curled auburn locks. Her curved figure was aglow in the light from the starry sky. The corners of her pink lips turned up in delight at the cool evening air blowing through the garden.

"You are quite different from the other servants, my friend," he noted, looking back to the sky.

"Oh?" Elska giggled. "How so?"

"You are thoughtful, smart," he said. "You seem to know the truth of the world before anyone else does."

"I do not think that makes me so different from the rest of the servants," she replied, earning a quizzical look from the prince. "I think you simply know me better than you know the rest of the servants."

"A fair point," he smirked.

"So," Elska glanced over to Prince Loki. "We are friends?"

He stood, looking down at the mischievous woman.

"For the time being, I suppose," he said before vanishing into thin air.

*****

When Eira heard the news, she could hardly believe it. Her best friend had been made lady in waiting for Queen Frigga, and she herself would be getting a promotion of sorts, as well.

"Are you quite sure you didn't dream the whole thing?" she asked, a look of bewilderment decorating her face.

"I am quite sure, indeed, my dear friend," Elska laughed. "You and I will both be in the palace."

"When do you move to the palace? Shall we start packing your things tomorrow?" Eira sat on the small cot next to her friend.

"Why would I be packing my things?" Elska looked confused. "I'm not leaving the dwelling."

"Past ladies in waiting have stayed in the palace," she looked as if the idea were the most normal thing in the Nine Realms.

Elska had not really paid much mind to any past ladies in waiting. Generally they didn't stay very long; the queen did better on her own, just having the general palace servants and staff tend to her when she needed it.

"I suppose," Elska stuttered, a sudden wave of anxiety settling over her. "I suppose I will have to ask tomorrow."

"Why does it bother you so?" It was Eira's turn to be confused. "It's quite the upgrade from this place."

"This is my home," Elska began. "It has been for almost a millennia. These people have watched me grow, they've accepted me from the start. Moving into the palace, it's a different way of life entirely. They're going to train me to act differently, to be proper in front of the Asgardian court." She almost scoffed. "What fun is that?"

The two friends shared a laugh before Eira placed her hand on Elska's.

"My advice to you, never forget from where you came," she smiled at the nervous girl. "Besides, I will be there everyday to keep you in check. And you will come visit, I am sure."

This will be good, Elska thought to herself. Living in the palace will be good, right?

*****

Elska had seemingly been constantly busy the past four days. From tending to her duties, to Eira shadowing her every movement, to small training sessions with the entirety of the servants, to her own lady in waiting training, her days felt like years. She found herself trudging home, eating only some bread and cheese, and falling to her bed, face in the pillow.

She had yet to even start packing, and the anxiety of getting it all done was moving closer and closer to the forefront of her mind. Thor (he refused to allow her to call him "prince" now that she was officially working with the family so closely) had shown her to her new chambers on her first day of training. Elska could barely believe that she'd be living here. Having her own bathing chambers amazed her, not to mention the size of the bed. Queen Frigga had even seen to it that Elska had her own fully-stocked bookshelf.

Funnily, Elska had yet to see the queen since the day she named her lady in waiting. Thor believed she was working hard to ready Elska's formal lessons.

Day five of preparation was the last; tomorrow morning, Elska would be moving into the palace and officially relinquishing her position to Eira.

She will do well, Elska thought to herself. Likely even better than I ever did. She smiled to herself as she made her way to the Royal Library to meet Eira and begin their morning cleaning. As she turned a corner, she nearly ran into the queen.

"Elska!" Queen Frigga exclaimed, a surprised smile on her face.

"Good morning, my queen," Elska curtsied, excited to finally see the matronly figure again. "How do you fare this morning?"

"Quite well indeed, my dear," the queen replied. "Your speech is changing. It is more formal."

"Yes, my etiquette teachers have informed me that it is the way the Asgardian Court speaks," Elska blushed a bit, embarrassed. "They say I will need to speak as such, also, if I plan to be a successful lady in waiting."

"Well," Queen Frigga placed a gentle hand on the young woman's face. "I look forward to gracing the Asgardian Court with you by my side."

"Always the voice of encouragement," Elska grinned. "I have been meaning to thank you, my queen, for the bookshelf in my chambers."

"I do believe that was Prince Loki's idea," she held a sly grin. "My son seems to have noticed which books you tended to borrow."

Wiggling her eyebrows, the queen began walking away, leaving Elska in a strange silence. The new lady in waiting resumed her short trip to the library, feeling slightly giddy now. Perhaps Prince Loki would be there, and she could thank him.

As she entered, she found herself alone, not even Eira had arrived yet. Looking around the room, she found the sundial.

I suppose I am a tad bit earlier than usual, Elska realized, slightly disappointed. She began tidying up, straightening things up. Moving from desk to desk, she picked up various books and returned them to their home shelves. She always wondered how books ended up out and about when the only soul who seemed to venture into the Royal Library was Prince Loki. Hopefully, she'd be able to add her name to the room's list of visitors soon.

Walking over to the prince's study desk, Elska picked up notes that had fallen and tried to set them on the desk so they wouldn't interrupt whatever process he had spread across the table at the moment. It was always a continuous stream of notes and open books, quills and ink scattered in between. Every now and again, a crumb-covered plate sat atop one of Prince Loki's book stacks.

"I am so sorry, Elska," Eira marched into the room, looking a bit flustered. "I got distracted preparing breakfast for the children in the dwelling."

Pulled from her thoughts, Elska looked over to her best friend.

"It's quite alright, I had barely begun cleaning," she laughed at Eira. "Here, I will show you what books go where."

As she reached for Prince Loki's discard pile, Eira reached for one of the prince's in-use piles. Elska reached out, just about to say something when another voice beat her to it.

"Not those," for what seemed like the hundredth time, Prince Loki appeared out of nowhere. "Books on this desk are currently in use." He held a tight-lipped, fake smile; hiding his frustration never seemed to be something the prince excelled at.

"The prince puts his discard pile on this desk," Elska said gently, struggling to gesture toward the desk next to her while holding a pile of books in her arms.

"Of course, my apologies," Eira's face turned beet red as Elska smiled at the new palace servant, trying to reassure her. "It will not happen again, my prince."

Elska, hoping to keep Eira away from the same wrath she had once earned from Prince Loki, moved the conversation forward and away from the situation.

"Shall we take your plates to the kitchen, my prince?" Elska curtsied, sending a sideways glance at Eira to do the same.

As the two women awaited his reply, Prince Loki kept his focus on Elska. She looked tired, overwhelmed, and even scared. He thought back upon the day all those years ago when he had shouted at her for completely cleaning off his desk. He had thrown a book at her, but even then she was too swift for him. Now, he felt a strange regret for that moment, and seeing her in this moment, he even worried for how she was feeling.

Noticing he was extending the silence, Prince Loki washed the look of confusion from his face.

"Yes, please," he nodded, allowing the women to rise from their curtsy.

Elska motioned for Eira to pick up the plates as she quickly returned the books. For a brief second, Elska and Prince Loki's eyes met, and a quick agreement to speak later was made.

The two women gave a short, final curtsy to the prince before leaving the Royal Library.

Watching them go, the prince sat at his desk, placing his head in his hands. Feeling another twinge of guilt run through him, the confusion toward his feelings settled in once again.

*****

"There isn't even that much to pack, Elska," Eira threw one of her aprons at her pouting friend.

"I do not care," she crossed her arms and dramatically fell onto her bed. "It is effort and I have no more effort to give."

Eira scoffed, placing a hand over her heart and feigning sympathy.

"That is quite rude, you know," Elska giggled.

"Everything is going to be okay," Eira walked over and sat next to her friend, wrapping her in a hug. "We will finish packing tonight and break open that bottle of wine you took from the palace those months ago."

Elska gave an appreciative glance to Eira.

"That does sound quite wonderful," she said, standing and throwing her few belongings into her two bags.

[rainsonata]

A Day Off

Fandom/Pairing: Elsword; hints of VCBH Rating: K Word Count: 1,626

Summary: With no missions and chores to be done, Elesis was bored when she caught Raven walking back to the inn. Birthday fic for @blazingsnark.   

Edit: Oops, deleted original post and reposted to add a Read More bar.  Sorry for taking up space!

Shouts and murmurs overlapped one another, swords clattered against the blacksmith’s hammer, and wind chimes clang with the sea breeze carried over from the ports.  Foreign spices overwhelmed one’s sense, a mixture of everything that made it hard to pinpoint its components.  Even the air felt different, sharp and salty to the taste if one was to close their eyes and breath in.

It was hard to believe this was the merchant’s area.  Everything about the city was pristine, sculpted out of white marble with gold and blue stones decorating the exteriors. There were cracks on the floor and several of the buildings, but not many.  They contrasted against the ruined buildings in Hamel’s outskirts, where the demons’ influences had spread.  

Bouncing in her heels, Elesis stopped when she caught a familiar face among the crowds of merchants, civilians, and soldiers.  She pushed through the packed streets and waved with both of her arms, happy to see him.  

“Heya, Raven!”  

The Veteran Commander did a double take when she approached him, but gave a steady smile, “Hello, didn’t expect to see you.”

Why?  Because most of the group was out, there was no need to upgrade weapons, shop for equipment, or any of that because they were already completed on their last free day?  The redhead crossed her arms and twitched.  

“Shopping for dinner?” She noticed Raven holding grocery bags that could feed two or three households for a week, although with how big the Elparty had grown, it wasn’t an exaggeration. It was already hard to balance the party’s money without including living expenses like eating and resting at inns.  Would it be ungrateful to ask Aisha to conjure food out of thin air?      

“Yeah,” Raven chuckled, “Elsword ate the last bit of leftovers for lunch.”  

“Let me help!” The Blazing Heart didn’t wait for an answer and stole three bags to carry with both hands.  

There was a bounce in her footsteps when she almost skipped back to the inn they were staying at.  Elesis counted her lucky stars that their destination was close to the marketplace, a few minutes’ walk at most, but the extra weight made it feel longer when they stopped to take a breather.  

“Are you done with training already?” Raven asked.  

She shrugged, “There’s only so much training you can do in a day.”

He nodded in understanding, “It’s hard to stand still when it’s quiet, isn’t it?”    

“They’re missing out on the fun we’re having,” Elesis joked.  Her voice was steady, but was it convincing enough?  The look Raven was giving her gave her the feeling that it wasn’t.  

Although none of them said it out loud, the red sparks threatening to erupt from her fingertips seemed to express the sentiment the most.  Hamel was partially submerged because of the demon invasion, leaving their recent missions to involve investigating the depths of the sea.  Being fire users, that meant she, her brother, and Raven were for lack of better word, useless.  Even before she joined her brother and his friends, she was rarely alone because she had her men to think of and worked with them through many of the missions assigned to them.  It was unrealistic to think she would never stumble on obstacles that would block her ability to fight, but watching the party leave without them felt wrong.

“You think those four know how to swim?”  Elesis mused at the funny image: a mage, elf, nasod, and child wading underwater in search for clues to the El’s whereabouts.  Could nasods swim?  When she asked the nasod queen, she was provided with a long explanation she couldn’t make head of.  She was going to assume it was a yes if Eve had no qualms about going near water.  

“Chung and Rena should,” Raven said.  “I don’t know about the other two.  Do you?”  

“Of course!”  No child from Ruben grew up without learning to swim at Lake Noahs.  Among house wives’ whispers were rumors that the water had special property that could heal the tired and the sick.  “Do you?”

“Yes, but it would be unwise for me to.”

It took Elesis a moment to understand the statement until Raven waved his nasod arm for her attention.  Oooh, right, nasod arm.  Waterproof or not, the additional weight would slow them down.  

When they returned to the inn, the front lobby was packed with travelers and soldiers lined up at the front desk.  Squeezing past the crowd and making their way back to their rooms, it took them several tries to get the key to work so they could open the door.  Once they stored most of the food, Elesis followed Raven to the chicken to see the Veteran Commander wearing a pink apron.  

Was it already time?  Elesis glanced at the stove clock to see it was half past four, then turned her head to see the sun high up and gleaming down through the windows.  The sun here felt different too, less intense and cooler than Velder.

“They’re not back.”  The redhead rested her eyes on the empty main room connected to the kitchen.  It was a suite styled rooming with a hallway leading to multiple rooms for different people, perfect to house full parties such as themselves.    

“The enemy must be hiding the duke well,” Raven opened a bag of flour to pour into a bowl with a plastic cup.  He dug through the pantry for the paprika, salt, and pepper to toss with the flour to make the seasoning.  

“Some mission,” Elesis scratched the back of her head.  “All this to save someone who can’t keep his head above the water.”  She grabbed a knife from the drawer to open a bag of vegetables on the counter.  A number of questions spurred in her mind as she began chopping them on the cutting board beside raven.  Unable to control the panic from the demon invasion, going missing, being rumored to be kidnapped by mermen of all things… was Duke Rod Ross worthy of his title?

A smile tugged at the corner of Raven’s mouth at the play on words, “It’s hard to sympathize when his secretary said this wasn’t the first time.  Nobles in Hamel aren’t too different from the ones in Velder, it seems.”  

“It seems so,” Elesis laughed.

Despite the struggles she had when she was stationed in Velder, nostalgia overwhelmed her when she was thought of the people she met and the places she traveled to with her men.  Hearing Raven’s occasional comments about the army made her happy to see she wasn’t alone.  

“It’s hard talking to them sometimes,” she admitted.  “It’s like they’re talking another language!”

“They do say things differently than the common folk for certain things,” Raven agreed.  “Didn’t you live in Velder for a time?”

“I did, but it was mostly teaching my men how to fight more than talking to the nobles.”  

“We’ll have to cooperate with them more in Hamel,” he said.  “Are you okay with that?”  While he appreciated Elesis’ enthusiasm, he knew Hamel was different from the experience Elesis must have had with Velder holding less emphasis on nobility but was more military based.  

“Me? Nah, I’ll be fine!”  The Blazing Heart shrugged it off, but paused when she thought she heard someone walking down the hallway.  That must be Elsword, she noted.  

Raven must have heard the footsteps too and said, “Well, Elsword seems to represent us and I worry if we encounter someone who won’t be as forgiving if he accidentally steps out of line…”

Her expression wavered.  Elsword did use a Ruben slang a merchant mistakened as an insult when the Rune Slayer tried to make a bargain the other day.  Perhaps she needed to talk to him. She pondered on what to tell her younger brother.  

“You seem fluent in doing this sort of thing,” Elesis made her decision.  “Teach me how to talk to nobles then!”

“H-hey, I’m no expert!”  He made a choking noise she assumed as surprise…of happiness?  Raven coughed, “I wasn’t born with a silver spoon-”

“And that’s why you’ll be a great teacher!”  She beamed, “You tell me the common folk equivalence with the fancy talk and I’ll teach Elsword afterward!”

“Fancy talk?”  The older man blurted out a loud laugh before controlling himself and stifle a smile.  Raven finished mixing the eggs with water in a separate bowl and a bit of salt and pepper.      

She finished cutting the last slices of onion and bell pepper, stringing them together on a kabob and was pleased with herself.  It looked like Raven was almost done too with washing the chicken and covering them with the seasoning he made earlier.  All was left was to cook them on a frying pan and wait for them to cool.    

Elesis grinned, “I’ll pick it up, no problem!”    

Raven returned one and chuckled, “I’ll see what I can do then.  Tomorrow?”

She beamed, “Tomorrow, after breakfast.”  Elesis watched Raven heat up the stove in preparation to fry the chicken and had a gleam in her eyes when she offered to add extra paprika to the first piece.    

“Be careful,” he said.

“Hey,” she said with a wink.  “Just a little.”

Raven stared, “You poured at least two spoons.”

Elesis waved it off, “This isn’t for me.”

Color drained from Raven’s face before he realized when she meant when he caught her with a devious expression.  

“This is for Elsword eating the last sandwich,” the redhead cackled while Raven groaned.  It looked like Raven did have a soft heart after all as Rena claimed.  She couldn’t wait to tell the elf the good news tonight when the rest of them came home.  

Author Notes: Thanks being a good friend and going over my writing over the years!   I’m glad I found your fics long ago and got to talk to you u v u/.   Don’t let the hot summer melt you!    

[kaninneko]

Cruentus (Ch.2)

The incredibly strong man was sprawled out in his futon, when he heard a low beeping sound. Raising his lips into a snarl, he reached out to stop the sound and in doing so felt his palm come into contact with something larger than a mere alarm clock. In confusion, Saitama opened one eye to peek at where he had landed. The beeping noise still occurred but was now muffled. His open eye traveled along his arm, slowly losing interest, until it reached his hand. There laid Genos, steam huffing out with embarrassment, with an apologetic look on his face.

"Forgive me for disturbing your sleep, master!" He belted out, as the young adult slowly began steaming up even more in increasing embarrassment and shame. "Yeah, okay. What's that beeping noise?" Saitama asked, as he dared to gently lift his hand from Genos's chest. Whilst doing so, he noticed that indeed he had left a hand-print indented into the left of his upper torso. "Shit, sorry man." "Do not worry master, it was indeed an error caused by myself. You see, I was being careless and undoubtedly curious about a new system in my body that Dr. Kuseno has put into my body lately and-" He got cut off by Saitama shushing him with a finger in front of his lips. "Twenty words or less, remember." He grunted, feeling regret for the hand-indent on his 'disciple's chest but that did not mean his rules would fluctuate. Genos has a very bad habit of waffling on and Saitama did not have the patience nor the attention-span at the moment to listen.

"Yes, master. ... I was investigating a new feature I spotted, and accidentally pulled on a wire I didn't realise was there. It seems to be a security alarm of some sort." "Like a car alarm?" The other asked, disregarding the fact that Genos was nine words over the limit. Instead he pictured the scenario of a car beeping when accidentally hit, a very small smile on his face in amusement. "Y-yes, it seems so." Genos fumbled to set the wire back in place, hushing the alarm.

Saitama looked away and sat up, thinking of what to do today. Leading an average life was boring. He reached over to the table and got Genos's phone, looking in his contacts. "Do you think I should invite King over today?" He asked himself more than anyone else, but Genos replied with a grunt in his voice as he tried to get the hand-shaped dent out of his chest armour. "Yes, that might be good. Will he bring his consoles over again?" "Probably, but we have to try to not break his controllers again, okay?" "Yes, master."

The bald man sighed, standing up. He looked back to the cyborg, a mild twang of guilt burning in him as he looked at the dents. "Sorry, man." "Do not worry master, it was not your fault. I chose an inappropriate time to investigate my upgrades." "Alright, well I'm going to get changed. Shall I cook breakfast?" Genos looked up at Saitama, and replied hastily with enthusiasm. "Master, please let me cook! I have caused you enough trouble already." The standing man itched his nose, thinking. "Fine, but don't use the toaster, since it's broken." "Okay!"

Saitama nodded and headed over to his clothes, changing into his daywear. It was quite warm today so he figured he would just wear a vest whilst indoors with blue shorts. "This look alright?" He asked the blonde, though he didn't really need to. Genos would see any stains faster than him however, which was quite handy. Said blonde quickly turned around, his apron lifting a little as he spun, and analysed the other man's clothes. "Yes, I see no imperfections. You 'look good', master." Saitama's brows furrowed at the younger man's choice of phrasing. "Er, thanks. You too." He decided to brush it off however and sat down at the table. However he did wonder why Genos always wore that apron. He had bought it as a sort of housewarming gift as the cyborg was very keen on keeping the house tidy, however the boy seemed to see something in it as he always wore it when he was cleaning. He told the blonde several times before that he didn't need to wear it to clean the place all the time, but Genos simply replied, 'This was a gift from Master, and so I must respect it by using it for its purpose.'

"Master, I have made our breakfast." Genos broke the older man's train of thoughts as he sat down as well, and served the food. He also reached for the remote and turned the TV onto the news, to watch as they always did.

¬And in today's news there are reports of city Y already starting the repairs of their high-rise flats thanks to the 'Metal Knight', however citisens are being forced to temporarily relocate in the meantime. Over to Kagame for the weather.¬

Saitama thought right. The people living there may still be alive and healthy now, but for how long? All of the temporary shelters for living in were full, and so those people would have to squat in an old, possibly disease-ridden, building or even worse, out on the porches of buildings in the street.

He suddenly didn't feel like such a 'good guy' anymore. Was he really helping them? Probably not. Did people want his help? Most likely, 'no'. Saitama was still willing to fight the monsters, but would the public he was protecting want him to? But what else was he to do?

Genos must've seen his darkening mood, and called out to him. "Master, are you okay?" He spoke in a softer, concerned voice. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just wondering if the public really needs someone like me, you know?" The cyborg almost sprung out of his seat to place the back of his hand onto the older man's forehead. Said man flinched in surprise, before asking him what he was doing. "Your temperature is fine... you don't seem sick either." The blonde analysed. "However you seem off lately, master." Saitama thought in a moment of silence, before releasing a slight sigh. "Yeah, I suppose I have. I think it's just how the public always portrays me, it makes me wonder if I really am the kind of hero they want." "I disagree with your statement, if you forgive me, but I think that you are the hero they need, rather than want. We all need you, Master."

"... Thanks, dude. But I don't know, maybe I've just been too idle lately." He pondered that maybe now would be a good time to call King and ask him if he wanted to come over to play a few games. "Hey, where's your phone?" He asked the adolescent. "Oh, I have it here." The cyborg replied, pulling it out of his pocket. He handed the mobile over to him, and the other man took it in hand, flipping it open and going through the contacts. "I'm going to ring King now." He declared nonchalantly, standing up to speak in the corridor. He might not be the perfect gentleman, but he had manners. "Hey.. Yeah are you free?.. Cool, do you want to come over and play some games?.. Y-Oh, really? Sure, that would be good. Alright then, bye."

Saitama hung up and handed the phone back to Genos. "Yeah, he's going to come over around lunch. He said he got a new multiplayer game we can try out." "I see. Should I prepare food for him too?" The blonde queried, changing his mental plans on what to make for lunch and the proportions of ingredients required. "Yeah, sometimes he brings over snacks but they aren't really that meal-worthy." he replied, sitting at the table again and observing the people talking on TV. It seemed to be a comedy, which was good. Saitama found that soaps were unnecessary, though every once in a while he'd catch his housemate watching one with strong interest. "Understood, Master."

A few hours later, the sound of knuckles hitting wood rattled from the front door. Once upon a time, the superhero-for-fun used to have a doorbell. It didn't last long though, as his neighbours weren't very friendly and found a way to take it off and smashed it. He was glad that he had no neighbours now, though it meant that the old lady on the ground floor wouldn't say hello to him anymore. She was the only decent person in the block of flats, and she always made cupcakes too. He never got to ask why. Genos went to answer the door instead, even though he was still wearing his apron. "Hello, Master is inside waiting for you. Please come in." He spoke formally to the taller man, stepping to the side, hearing a quiet banging of the 'king engine'. Genos assumed he was just 'pumped' to play fighting games.

The bigger-built man walked into the living room, and sat down by the TV. "Dude", he whispered, "why is he wearing that apron? isn't that what t-th" "You need to stop reading so much ecchi, man. It's just a household apron. He liked it because it had an egg on it and now he won't stop unless he's finished his cleaning routine." "Alright. Anyways, I bought the new 'Legend of Helda' today, since I had enough money after bills." "Man, you S-class guys get paid too much. I have to deal with buying only cheap stuff," "-but isn't that out of habit, master?" Genos interjected, setting the plates down on the table. "I have made a small assortment of rice balls, as we have not eaten them lately."

Saitama picked up a riceball the moment the plate landed on the table. He munched it down, before commenting that it was a good idea. "'Kay, let me set the console up whilst you get the disc out." He spoke, before taking another one to nibble on during his feud with the dreaded cables. To him, these things terrorised him more than monsters. They were up there with mosquitoes, a maze of wires that could lead to the wrong thing getting unplugged.

"Sure", King replied. By the time they had eaten their food, the console was functioning and the game had been inserted. "Agh, these adventures are far better than the one I go on. I can't remember the last time I had a damsel in distress asking me to help them." Saitama sighed, as he read the text box. "I have too many fans, it gets annoying as I can't do my shopping without getting noticed unless I put some kind of disguise on." The other gamer replied, in a voice just as disgruntled as his. "Oh, sucks to be you. I know the press's story of how you joined the HA, but what's your own personal reason?"

King grunted, unsure as to whether the monotone-voiced man was being sarcastic or not. "I didn't really have a reason, they had just told me it was compulsory for me to meet them. After that, they said I was a S-Class hero and gave me my certificate." "So, you're saying you were forced? What the hell, dude. Did they tell you what would happen if you refused?" "I suppose I was. I didn't want to ask but since that big guy crushed a city, I'm pretty sure they could've held me responsible and locked me away."

The bald man broke his eye-contact from the television screen to look at the hooded man with a serious look on his face. "That's not okay. I know the Heroes association is unfair when it comes to treatment of people and pay, but I didn't realise they forced people in too. Whoever gave the green-light on that idea is an asshole." "I dunno, I needed a better job anyways so it's not all bad." The other man shrugged, not really thinking that deep into it before. "You know, for a bored guy, you definitely give some interesting insights."

When the sun was approaching the horizon King decided to go home, triumphant after beating Saitama in a few fighting games again. The controller was yet again broken but it could get replaced easily. "You know, I'm still kinda hung up on what King said earlier." The householder laid on the couch, legs bent so that Genos could sit if he wanted to. "What do you think, Genos?" 

Said person opened his mouth, before analysing his response and realising it was far too long. He closed his again for a moment, and reopened it, replying, "I agree that it was unfair, not only on King but on the people who worked hard to get in. Like you, Master." "Using me is a bad example, but I get what you mean. I never realised the HA were so biased." "Though as biased as they are, they're the reason you don't need to work anymore." "I guess you're right. Though I don't pay for much now anyways, as we split the money on groceries and rent is afforable enough." "Master, I still believe you should not have to pay rent anymore. I insist you confront them sometime to withdraw your monthly bill." "Nah, just let them be." Saitama rolled onto his side, yawning. "As long as they aren't asking me for blood, I can put up with it."

-Chap 2 END-

(Notes: Okay so This is supposed to be a serious story, but come on, OPM is a comedy manga so I can't really resist; along with seeing the 'Naked' drawing of Genos having a car-lock for his 'you-know-where'... I thought it would be funny to play on that idea and say he has a 'Car Alarm' to scare off anyone trying to take his core, but Genos didn't ask Dr. Kuseno until when he visited him after that incident there. It was a new Idea from the doctor and got installed when Genos visited him last, which was the day before (hence why he wasn't with Saitama at the fight).)

[Prev] [Next]

[fade--writings]

Have some word vomit.

             Al examined Fara’s old bow with a frown. Sitting unattended in a chest hadn’t helped keep the dark wood supple and the oils she’d rubbed into it to revive it hadn’t helped as they should. Al wasn’t the best with wood, he was used to heat and metal, but he knew a lost cause when he saw one.

             “I don’t think we can salvage this,” he looked up at Fara who was perched on a large chair by the hearth with a frown on her face.

             Time spent with The Queen had not been kind to Al’s daughter. Her gold eyes were forever haunted, her pupils stuck as cat-like slits and her irises tinged with the faintest hint of red. Bruises and cuts had faded into a mess of scars from head to tail, making her pale skin a map of misery. Her demeanor was the biggest change, though, that upset him. Al was used to a bubbly and perpetually happy Fara, not this lost shell that looked at him with a stranger’s eyes.

             “I can make you a new one, though,” he offered, “You’re due an upgrade anyway.”

             “It’s fine... I don’t think I’ll have a chance to use it soon anyway. I just wanted to see if you could fix it.”

             Al ran his hands along the splintered wood, trying to bite his tongue instead of asking what he wanted. Al was never any good at not asking stupid questions, though.

             “Rannoch knows wood better than I d--”

             “It’s fine.”

             “Alright then.”

             On the back of Fara’s chair lounged the semblance of a cat and now it lifted its bald head with too many eyes and twisted its gaze to Al.

             “The Deer Man and My Fara have been avoiding one another,” the cat told Al plainly.

             “Yes, Aoife, thank you.”

             Fara gave the cat a little shove which did nothing to dislodge her at all. Aoife’s ears flicked back and her tail lashed in annoyance but she kept her gaze on Al.

             “It’s very boring.”

             “Is it now?”

             Fara glared at her father and shifted so she faced the fire and not his concerned and curious face.

             Aoife stretched, the eye on her stomach blinking rapidly while it had the chance, and jumped to the floor. She marched over to Al, stopping at his feet.

             “Pick me up.”

             Al did as he was told, depositing the almost-cat on the table in front of him. Aoife absently batted at a coil of bowstring, her voice casual.

             “I’ve told them both, over and over, that this is all very dull, but they won’t listen to me.”

             “It must be hard for you,” Al moved the string out of Aoife’s way, earning himself a not-at-all gentle claw swipe. By the hearth, Fara made a rude noise that both cat and man ignored, though Al was secretly glad that she had some reaction as opposed to none.

             Aoife had padded to the other end of the table, out of Al’s reach, and was shredding whatever papers Rannoch had left there earlier.

             “Should you be doing that?” Al asked as he examined the scratch she’d given him.

             “The Deer Man will be very cross and then it won’t be so boring. I am done being bored.”

             Al didn’t have a chance to reply. Fara crossed the room and scruffed Aoife like she would a normal cat, tossing her from the table.

             “You can leave if our lives are so boring to you!” she snapped.

             Al glanced at the papers that had been shredded and hoped Rannoch hadn’t been reading anything important before calmly addressing his daughter.

             “Cool your steam and leave her be.”

             Angry gold eyes met his, shining their molten fury for a moment before Fara retreated back to her chair by the fire. Aoife helped herself back up onto the table, her many eyes shining brightly.

             “Well! That wasn’t boring at all!”

             “Stop causing trouble,” Al gently chided, “They can find it on their own.”

             Al rose from the table, gently shuffling the tattered pages into a pile and placing a heavy book on top of them. He didn’t think that it would really stop a determined Aoife, but it didn’t hurt to try.

             Aoife watched him placidly, lounging by the bow as though nothing had happened.

             “Fara,” Al moved to stand in front of the hearth, using his sheer size to block her view of dancing flames, “I didn’t leave The Expanse for the first time ever just to sit here and watch you mourn your would haves and should haves.”

             She looked away and Al shifted to stay in her view. There was a lot Al was missing, he knew that, and he would never ask her to tell him what was wrong... but he hoped she would.

             Fara said nothing.

             “Come back home,” he said after a while, “You can’t haunt this man’s house forever, never speaking and miserable.”

             Fara’s brow furrowed, in irritation or misery, Al wasn’t sure.

             “I left once,” she finally offered, “And look what that did.”

             “You left hundreds of times,” Al gently reminded her, his voice soft, “But leaving wasn’t the only problem.”

             Perhaps he’d gone wrong somewhere, when raising her, he wondered? It wasn’t like he’d been given a manual on how to raise well-adjusted half demons.

             Fara fidgeted under his gaze before offering another puzzle piece.

             “I always left when we talked about things like... marriage and forever and...”

             “And?”

             Fara shrugged and Al shifted his weight, pondering how to phrase what he wanted to say.

             “... Is that so bad?”

             “I couldn’t give up exploring...”

             There was something else hiding in that statement but Al let it slide away for another day.

             “Did you think he’d stop you?”

             Fara opened her mouth, had a thought, and then closed it, her face full of uncertainty.

             “You never discussed it?”

             “Never,” Aoife called from the table.

             Al rubbed the back of his neck, feeling more and more like he’d failed her in ways he didn’t understand.

             “Fara...”

             He wanted to apologize, but he didn’t know how. He wanted to reassure her that it would all be OK, but he didn’t know if that was true. From the moment she could walk and talk, Fara had made Al feel too old and tired but now she made him feel young and naive.

             “I have to stay,” she told him again, but this time she could add more to it.

             “I have to stay, dad, until I can find the words... the words to make this right.”

             Al offered her a small smile, though he wasn’t sure he agreed with this path, “You won’t find them by sulking.”

             “No...”

             “That’s settled then.”

             Al and Fara both turned to look as Aoife landed on the floor with a dull thud.

             “I will go and fetch The Deer Man.”

             “Wait, Aoi--”

             But she was gone, disappearing into shadows like she was one herself.

[samleheny]

The curious forgotten gem(?), Binary Domain

Binary Domain is a game. In this way it’s eerily similar to Dynasty Warriors, Dig Dug, and Checkers, among others.

Less similarly, it’s been sitting in my Steam Library for years since I picked it up for pennies during one of the holiday sales. All I knew is it was a shooter, and it was Japanese, and while the Japanese market doesn’t have as much of an appetite for shooters as we do in the West, the few they put out generally turn out pretty good, or at least refreshing coming from a development culture not as obsessed with trying to clone Call of Duty or Gears or War.

Binary Domain was developed and published by Sega in February 2012, by a team helmed by Yakuza creator Nagoshi Toshihiro. It received decent reviews but didn’t sell very well outside Japan. Knowing that Japanese shooters also tend to be a tad on the short side, I decided to install it and boot it up.

First impressions weren’t good. I’m one of those social pariahs who plays shooters with a controller, but while Binary Domain has full controller support, all of the button prompts remain adherent to the keyboard, which makes the learning curve especially annoying, and quicktime events (while thankfully infrequent) are a nightmare when there’s the added twist of having to guess which button it wants you to press. But the graphics are thrifty and generally look pretty nice, and it ran flawlessly on my sputtering old GTX 660ti.

The plot: It’s the near future, robots are totally a thing, but the New Geneva Convention restricts certain research into advanced robots. Japan didn’t want to play ball, so it isolated itself from the rest of the world and built a big wall to keep the foolish gaijin out. You are part of some secret small UN team (or something) who is tasked with infiltrating Japan and hooking up with the Japanese resistance on the inside. If you’re thinking that sounds plageristically similar to the plot of that 2007 Japanese film Vexille then you’re not the only one.

Robots permeate every aspect of developed society as an unthinking physical labour and customer service workforce, but one day some rando walks into America’s/the world’s largest robots company distressed and waving a gun around. He tears off his face to reveal he’s a totally a robo-man before offing himself.

We then get a delightfully Japanese imagining of what a secret White House meeting looks like –

-in which it’s explained that this man was a “Hollow Child”. A robot dressed up in flesh and blood and suspected to have been developed in and deployed by Japan to infiltrate foreign society. And for some added creep, these Hollow Children believe themselves to be human. That’s pretty dorky but fun. I was on board. But obviously you’re not meant to think about it too much or you’ll run into unhelpful questions like “This guy is established as being one of potentially hundreds of Hollow Children infiltrating the other countries for decades and then living their lives normally. How in that time did not a single one of them encounter a simple doctor’s appointment, medical procedure, or injury that would have immediately revealed their crude mechanical innards?”

You play as good looking, all-American Dan, aided by your meaty, all-American friend Bo. As part of an internationally coordinated effort to get into Japan, arrest the Mr. Amada, leader of Japan’s robot industry, and find evidence of his involvement in this Hollow Child business. After a fairly dull first hour or so spent getting through the big sea wall, things pick up when you join up with the British and Chinese teams. You see, at the start of every chapter you get to pick two team mates to accompany you from your growing motley crew. This crew eventually includes a flatteringly polite break-dancing robot with a French accent.

11/10. Game of the Year. Better than Breath of the Wild.

The banter between these characters is good. It starts out a little too Hollywood, or rather what Japan thinks of Hollywood, which is normally way to cringy for me but I found myself quickly warming to these people. They all just think you’re the big dumb American man, but they felt human enough in their performances that I was always determined to make them like me.

The big idea with this game’s combat is that you must earn your team mates’ trust and respect. You score points by answering their questions right (which is just a matter of always answering “yes”), coming to their aid when they’re hurt, and by performing well during combat. Blowing away a lot of enemies in a short span of time or pulling off a sweet headshot will pretty easily garner you praise mid fire-fight and yeah, it feel pretty nice. You lose points by answering wrongly (anything other than “yes”) or by accidentally shooting your allies, which happened a lot and every single time was their own damn fault! I would have scrapped the friendly fire mechanic entirely. And except for some quicktime events (WHY DO DEVELOPERS STILL USE THESE?!) I didn’t die once. It’s not that I didn’t get my good looking, all American arse shot off on multiple occasions, but when that does happen, you get a good generous chance to administer a magical first aid injection or if you’re out, call over one of your teammates to do it for you should you have racked up enough good will with them. And I really appreciate that. It’s one of the few things I unguardedly agree with David Cage about that Game Over states too often exist more for the developer’s benefit and not the player’s

You spend the first third of the game travelling through the slummy lower parts of old Tokyo, battling various flavours of “Scrap-Heads”, Japan’s weaponised robot soldiers. A consistent rule for all humanoid robot enemies is established early on: Shoot off one of their arms to tamper with their aim, shoot their legs out from under them to greatly reduce their mobility, or shoot off their heads and they’ll lose track of who’s who and start attacking eachother. It’s a neat system that rewards skilful play. The guns are satisfying to shoot you can feel the gradual improvements as you upgrade their stats throughout the game, but one area that suffers is the lack of variety. There aren’t that many different firearms, those available aren’t that different, and the game has an annoying system wherein you have four weapon slots, one is dedicated to your trusty rifle, another to your backup pistol, a third is the designated grenades slot, and only the remaining forth slot is available for trying out different weapons. Lame-sauce!

Enemies feel good and bad to shoot at since even the basic drones can take a lot of punishment and require sustained fire to put down, and they fizzle and spark satisfyingly as you blow apart their armour and reveal the delicate innards. But larger enemies feel a bit too bullet-spongy I think mainly due to a lack of visual feedback that you’re even causing any damage. And there’s one major grievance I have to bring up. There are a handful of especially frustrating boss fights in this game and when I pondered what I found so aggravating about them I realised they all had one thing in common: they all used missiles and missiles in this game are OP as all goddamn. Even if you manage to evade them they’ll still stun you and shake the camera furiously if you’re so much as standing in the same time zone as the explosion. And the seconds you have in between repeated stunnings are precious few with how much these bosses spam them.

At first the movement controls feel a bit slippery and sticky at the same time, but eventually I adjusted and had a good time with them. Perhaps the result of the difference in what qualities Japanese and Western developers value in a shooter.

The story ends up being pretty enjoyable for its good animation and performances, but I’m going to venture hard to spoiler territory now to talk about how my experience with this game got… weird, and why it’s a videogame experience I’ll not soon forget. So if you’re thinking you’d like to give Binary Domain a try, pull out now!

What starts off as seeming a pretty silly junkfood sci-fi quickly gets a little more interesting. As you venture deeper into the city and have more surprise encounters with randos who turn out to be Hollow Children and break down from the revelation, the paranoia sets in as you the player start to consider that for all these characters know the entire population has been unknowingly replaced with robots who think they’re human (again, as long as you don’t think about it too much).

There’s a cutscene early on, a flashback of one of good looking, all American Dan’s memories, wherein a young Dan madly beats the shit out of a servant robot with a bat, establishing Dan’s prejudice towards the robots that permeate society. But oddly, we witness the entire memory from the perspective of the robot, leading me to smugly predict the climactic twist: that good looking, all American Dan is a Hollow Child! Dan’s nickname (of which the game constantly reminds us) is “The Survivor”, so the opportunity was ripe for it to turn out that The Survivor had in fact not survived and at some point been replaced with a robot with all of Dan’s memories. But no. The game never goes for that low-hanging fruit, although if the misdirection was intentional then it was pretty well executed, and what the story does have in mind is a little more ambitious if nothing else.

Good looking, all American Dan and the Chinese sniper team mate Faye grow closer over the course of the game. She gets wounded at one point and Dan stitches her back up, confirming for us that she’s flesh and blood. But things get more complicated, for better and for worse, as the story reaches its crescendo.

You and your mates infiltrate the Amada Corporation to find evidence and extract Mr. Amada, the brilliant robotocist suspected of breaching the Geneva convention and building Hollow Children in the first place. You get separated, blow some shit up, reencounter your team mates minus Faye, who have some bad news… about Faye? No... she ain’t no scrap head! We patched her up ourselves! Turns out Amada’s tech is even more advanced than we thought it was as the real purpose of the Hollow Children is revealed!

Female Hollow Children are fully capable of being impregnated by human men and carrying a child to term. Children like… Faye! Completely identical inside and out to regular old human beings. This fundamentally disgusts all your human team mates, while good looking, all American Dan is feeling conflicted and questioning his prejudice towards robots.

Come the final encounter the execution starts to fall apart around a narrative that really had my attention. All nuance is thrown out and the script devolves into a pretty ham-fisted moral lesson about bigotry.

Big evil Mr. Amada shows up accompanied by Faye, and explains: He is actually an A.I. created by the original Mr. Amada (now deceased), and all he wants is, like any lifeform, to reproduce, and so seeded the world with fertile Hollow Children leading to 108 hybrids like Faye currently wondering around in the world. Human in every way, but fitter and healthier mentally and physically, drawing from the same emotional spectrum but more rational and less fueled by aggression. Basically just like the best, smartest person to be. The kind of people I’d think most of us aspire to. But Dan’s teammates immediately devolve into a bunch of completely unreasonable arseholes who see Faye as an abomination and have already seen to it that a special hit squad is deployed to scour the globe and terminate all 108 of this new breed.

I was experiencing this game with a friend and at this point I turned to him for confirmation that I wasn’t crazy for thinking everything coming out of Amada’s mouth actually sounded pretty sweet. He agreed. We couldn’t see a downside! And as the game locked me into a boss fight against Faye as she hurled her disappointment at Dan for being so small-minded we were screaming at the game to give us some sort of choice to make. I would gladly have turned on my arsehole teammates if that’s what it took! But as the game looked like it was presenting Amada’s plan as definitively and fundamentally wrong, I almost wanted to stop playing and walk away, so onboard was I with everything Amada described. But they’re just like “Oooh but humanity! Oh it isn’t human! Ooooh she’s no good for some reasons that can’t even be physically measured! Oooh this plan to peacefully end the divide between man and machine without even really altering the human race to any noticeable degree is eeeeeevil!” Fuck humans. What’s so important about being human? It’s not like it’s your usual “All humans must die for robots to be free!” no it’s a much more agreeable “We are here to breed peacefully with you so we may both benefit.”

All the right themes of humans mistaking humanity for personhood are there, but the game didn’t seem to have much faith in me. I can see how this battle would have worked had I spent all that time being conflicted on the whole situation, but I wasn’t conflicted at all, I immediately thought “Amada’s actually making a lot of sense. At the very least I don’t see the harm in letting this be.” but I was stuck in the in-game body of good looking, all American Dan who was all “Gosh, I still think I love Faye, but obviously we still have to stop this.” Is it Dan? Is it obvious?

From there the game sort of accidentally stumbles toward a satisfying enough conclusion, with Dan secretly avoiding killing Faye and letting her escape. Then the real final showdown begins as it turns out the US military have double crossed you (duh) and the twists and changes of heart start mounting up quickly and clumsily. There’s a hilariously superfluous sequence that lasts all of one minute wherein one of Dan’s team mates holds Dan at gunpoint and reveals himself to have been evil all along for no other reason than to reveal a moment later that no, actually he’s been good all along and this sequence is was absolutely pointless. And naturally Faye didn’t leave after all and  shows up to assist, and of course all your team mates are suddenly righteous and totally on her side even though nothing has actually happened to influence such a change of heart between now and five minutes ago when they were all overcome with disgust at her very existence and wanted nothing more than to execute her… It’s all a bit infantile. I love sci-fi and I especially love sci-fi that is daring enough to take the stance that a lot of the values we live by in human society are arbitrary and artificial, and this game… sort of took that stance? The right person got their way in the end, but not because anyone involved necessarily learned anything.

In the end, I was surprised and impressed with the majority of Binary Domain. It has everything you want and expect from a Japanese shooter. I am a little bummed out that the story’s nuance and execution spent the whole mid game rising in my esteem only to finish in a very turbulent landing. One in which all passengers survived, but a number of them will still probably want to file complaints.

[welldresseddadblog]

Day two I was up early and rearing to go. Having read the Hebridean crime novels and the accompanying photos book by Peter May, I was very excited to experience it first hand. Not so much the murders, mind you, but the Callenish Stones, the blachouses, the views and yes, even the peat bogs.

First stop was the blackhouse museum. Blackhouses are the traditional Hebridean dwelling. Built from what was available to withstand the harsh winter. A wall of stones and a thatched roof held down with canvas, rope and rocks. Basic housing for the entire household, including animals. The humans would have their sleeping space at one end, the animals at the other and in the centre a fireplace with a hole in the roof to expel the smoke from the burning peat.

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Fascinatingly the museum also features a modernised blachouse, where the inside has been upgraded to, what I can only imagine, is the standard of the 1950s. Very much more liveable, apart from the floor still sloping quite violently towards the doorway. Everything else has been made to fit. The museum also features a genuine looking crusty crofter working an original Hattersley loom and thus provided my first meeting with a weaver of the day.

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It was becoming apparent at this point that I was not going to experience the delights of the traditional island weather. While there was a little wind, the sun was shining from a clear blue sky and it was quite wonderful. We stopped at the Callenish Stones. These are stones that have been standing for around 4000 years, confounding locals and visitors since they were first set upright. It must be gratifying for those ancient pranksters to know that people are still visiting, still photographing and still pondering their significance so long after.

  From there we stopped at a nearby croft. Now, I had always assumed a croft was a small farm or similar, but it turns out a croft is a piece of land. So a crofter is a landowner. A croft may have house or farm on it, or it may be just that, a piece of land. The croft we stopped at had a small house and an outhouse on it, and this is where Kenny does his weaving. In the outhouse he keeps a Hattersley Mk1 set up to show visitors how old-school weaving works. Authentic in every way, down to the dents in the wall from when the shuttle flies off it’s track. This is a great display though, as it really brings home how tough it must be to work in a stone outhouse all year round.

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In the other room though is a modern loom. Double width, operated by bicycle style pedals. It also features a more advanced way of “programming” patterns, similar in style to the punched cards of early computers. In fact, apart from the stipulation that the tweed has to be “handwoven”, hence pedal power, having a more modern double width loom is probably a boon to the weaver. Kenny was great company, a dedicated radio listener and keen weaver. For him it’s a great way of combining with crofting and letting a holiday home.

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So far I had only been on the Isle of Lewis and now we headed down to the Isle of Harris. This caused me a little consternation, as the islands aren’t actually separated by anything at all! No ferry, no bridge, not even a measly causeway. I can only imagine it’s a quirk of island geography, or possibly another ancient prank. It was also becoming very clear to me that the landscape was, in the same way as the Scottish highlands, very much like the mountain stretches of central and northern Norway. Combine this with the open and friendly people I met and it felt very much like the Norway of my younger years.

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Tarbert is the other town on the islands and also the other ferry port. Hence there is, quite naturally a large Harris Tweed shop there. I was hoping that the “Harris Tweed Shed” was still going to be there. This is a place of legend, as when Haggas bought into Harris Tweed, he liquidated the entire stock of twwed. It was estimated at time that there was around half a million pounds worth of tweed in store, all sorts of vintage and newer patterns and colours. Quite the treasure trove, you’re probably thinking, and by all accounts you’re right. This pile of woolly loot was taken to Tarbert and made available in over the counter. Over the years it has been visited by everyone from tweed aficionados to home sewers to groups of Savile Row tailors, and nowadays there isn’t all that much left. I did find a length of very nice brownish herringbone though. The last length, I might add, so now that too is history.

The Harris Tweed shop in Tarbert is a mixture of the good and the bad, though it’s a little hard to scope it out as even though the shop is a decent size, it’s packed to the rafters with tweed products. Most of the stock was the usual fayre though, so I wasn’t as impressed as I was with the shop in Stornoway. This was very much more a shop waiting for the tourists to roll off the ferry.

Tarbert is also home of the Isle of Harris Distillery, with whisky under production and gin for sale. A fine-looking modern building and what is quite likely a decent gin. The sea kelp flavouring promises a welcome change from the ubiquitous “complex botanicals” of every other brand. A fine looking bottle as well.

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From Tarbert we followed the road south. This was my first sighting of a real live peat cut. From the plane I had noticed the geometrical shapes cut into the landscape, from where peat had been cut out and removed. Once you know what to look for you can also see it from the road. As I understand it, a peat cut is a personal thing, so if someone has started cutting then you start your cut somewhere else. Why would you even want to cut peat? Because you can dry it and burn it in your stove, and there’s massive amounts of it, and it smells nice. I actually agree on the smell, it’s evocative.

Almost at the end of our trip we came to what are probably the most spectacular beaches I have ever seen. Seilebost and Luskentyre are huge swathes of white sand and clear blue sea, and on a day like this it was like being in paradise. I’m not sure what the temperature of the water might be, probably the wrong side of seriously nippy, but for the eyes it was a visual feast. A number of people were surfing, but it was still utterly peaceful and great. Luskentyre is the most well known, but locals will staunchly insist Seilebost is the prettier beach, so we enjoyed a walk there, sharing space with wild rabbits. I’m not making this up.

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Near the beaches is where we visited Rebecca Hutton, an independent weaver of Harris Tweed operating as Taobh Tuath Tweeds (“North Tweeds”, since you asked). Being independent she has weaves her own patterns and sells her tweed directly customers. She is still part of the regular process in that the mills supply yarn and process the finished tweed (more about this later) and the Harris Tweed Authority inspect and stamp the finished product. Rebecca produces her tweed on a vintage single-width Hattersley Mk2 in a purpose-built shed in her garden. I did notice the dents in the wall from the loom shuttle, so there was no doubt in my mind that this was an authentic setup!

Rebecca is a good example of the younger generation of weavers, seeing a job that offers both the opportunity of combining weaving with other commitments and by being independent also a creative direction. I had a great time talking to Rebecca and was again struck by the humour and friendliness of islanders. Maybe the long hours spent alone weaving make people appreciate human interaction more?

It was in Rebecca’s stock I found the tweed I wanted to take home with me. At a distance it look deep green, closer up it’s a feast of primary colours. Woven from special heavy weight yarn it’s like vintage weight tweed, notably heavier than today’s tweed. Add in that it’s woven in single-width on a vintage Hattersley Mk2 in Rebeccas shed and I was totally sold. And there was enough on the roll to sew a jacket. Annoyingly I will leave you with: More on this later.

I’ll give you one piece of knowledge Rebecca imparted though: Take a magnifying glass to your tweed and see the colours actually in there. I’ve often wondered how a tweed could look plain and straightforward one day, and maybe two weeks later I’ll notice entirely new nuances. And similarly a while late again. Now I know.

Everywhere I went on the islands it was hard to break lose and leave. Increasingly I found myself thinking it would be great to live here. I was even checking out the ads in the Stornoway estate agents windows. Yes, the islands are remotely situated compared to many other places, but no more than a short flight from airports on the mainland. Yes, the weather can be harsh, but provably there are days when the weather is world class, and surely there are many factor counter poor weather. The scenery is great, the roads well kept, the people are friendly and … there is always the Harris Tweed.

The next morning I found myself on the 7am ferry to Ullapool on the mainland. I had high expectations for this, but as it turned out it was a fine enough modern ferry and the 3 hour crossing was smooth, but the weather had gone bleak again and there wasn’t really much to look at. I’d have loved to stop at the Seafood Shack in Ullapool for a portion of “Cullenskink soup”, but they were yet to open.

From this point on it’s another story, though keep in mind I did have a roll of heavy tweed in my case.

This was actually the last photo I took, as the ferry left Stornoway. Through rain rain we see the Town Hall, where the Harris Tweed Authority reside.

  Travelling to the land of Harris Tweed - part two #harristweed #tweed #hebrides #blog #blogger #blackhouse Day two I was up early and rearing to go. Having read the Hebridean crime novels…