#babies and bad boys are her number one weakness. she's been doomed from the start... 😶

[zivazivc]

Special bedtime thought that crossed my mind a few weeks back when I was thinking about Flea's moms... Lena could have easily run into 1-year-old Tam Tam during Fusion Fest. It doesn't really change the story I have so far and none of the characters would be aware of this in the present time, but it's agonizingly fun to think that Flea's pretty peepers were the direct cause of Lena's untimely baby fever... 🥲

[hargrove-mayfields]

so sorry im late asking this (i was waiting for you to get more, super surprised you didn’t get more asks tbh) but could I hear more about your wips “I have a crush on Barbara Holland” “baby fic” and “HOH Steve” also if it’s not too much “girlyfriends” and “cali house” and “medical emergency” ik ik that’s a lot but I’d honestly want hear about ALL of you wips in that list if i could. thank u in advance

It’s alright anon! I’ll accept these asks until I run out of WIPs to talk about!

I have a crush on Barbara Holland- This one is a soulmates au, where Steve has his soulmates initials, B.H., on his wrist, and he is whole heartedly convinced that that person is Barb. He’s very much in love with her, and there’s lots of talk about how pretty and nice she is (hence the title lol) but eventually she reveals that he isn’t her soulmate. Before she had hid the initials on her own wrist under a watch or a chunky bracelet, but she feels guilty, and shows Steve that her mark had long ago faded, because her soulmate passed away when they were in elementary school. Steve decides, despite how much value he used to hold in the whole soulmate thing, he doesn’t care about who some stupid mark says he should be with, so him and Barb date until her death. He’s heart broken, but the sadness very quickly turns into so much anger after Billy Hargrove, another B.H. rolls into town with a little S.H. on his wrist. He feels like the universe or whoever is even in charge of this soulmate bullshit is spiting him for thinking he could fall in love with someone he wasn’t destined to be with, so he rejects Billy for a long, long time, even after he himself figured it out that Steve is his match. When he does start to feel that way about Billy, he struggles with so much guilt and has to go through a very long grieving process to be comfortable with his feelings, because he’s not even sure if they’re his genuine feelings or the work of this soulmate bond. Very long and very angsty.

baby fic- Nancy gets pregnant that first time at the party with Tommy and Carol, and her and Steve try really really hard to make things work out for their baby, but it just isn’t meant to be. They make an arrangement that the Harringtons are very not pleased with, where Nancy has the baby at the Byers house half the time (because let’s be honest I think the Wheelers house is not really a safe place to be raising a baby) and Steve has her the rest of the time. Because it was like, a much more mature breakup without the cheating and the drunken confessions, they’re still pretty close friends. When the upside down starts making an appearance again, they have to try to figure out how to navigate it with this little four month old baby, and that means getting some help involved. Billy shows up at the Byers and instead of a fight, Steve’s all exhausted like oh good, you’re finally here, and gives him the worlds fastest run down of this monster fighting shit with a crying baby on his hip, and like, Billy just can’t say no to him asking him to go into the tunnels while he watches the baby. There is eventual Harringrove after a while, but it’s a slow burn for sure. This is also probably the least serious and least angsty thing I have ever started to write.

HOH Stevie- They’re all in the government hospital getting their post Starcourt once overs, Billy and El of course being rushed into surgery, and Steve’s about to get discharged when he gets addressed by name and just, does not respond at all. The doctor is like hmm, and checks his ears, and they find out he has almost no hearing in his left ear, and only about forty percent in the right. All that head trauma from the Russians and then all of the explosions of the fireworks, it leaves him deaf.

Everyone tries to be supportive, but his dad refuses to let him get hearing aids because he doesn’t believe he actually needs them (Steve’s a diagnosed hypochondriac) so for the next several months while his parents are still home waiting for their next trip, he’s struggling. He basically gets iced out by the party because he just can’t hear anything they’re saying, and the kids get tired of repeating themselves, and Nancy got insulted the one time he told her her voice is too quiet, and Robin wants to do things right for him, but she forgets sometimes, and will ramble on about something without looking at him and everytime he’s like great, I didn’t catch a single word of that, lovely talk though. It’s very frustrating and isolating and nobody seems to want to make accommodations for him.

The very same day that his parents leave for their latest vacation, he goes back to hospital. At first he just has to get more testing done, since it had been upwards of six months since the last time they saw him, and on his way out he notices Max in the waiting room chairs. He hadn’t seen much of her at all since Starcourt, so he checks on her, and at first she tells him to go away, because her friends have said some not so nice things about how much time she spends at the hospital, and assumes Steve is there to tell her Billy isn’t worth it too. Because that’s not the case, he ends up going in the room to visit Billy with her.

They do the small talk, the awkward, sorry about the fact that you’ve been in the hospital for six months now and nobody wants to come see you thing, and at some point Billy realizes that Steve can’t hear a damned thing he’s saying. He tests his theory by saying Steve’s name when he’s not looking and just waiting for him to answer but, surprise he doesn’t because he didn’t hear it at all, and Billy’s just like, you’re deaf aren’t you?

The progression of the fic is basically Steve coming to visit Billy everytime he has an appointment for his hearing (and more, but Bill doesn’t know that) but the day of his last appointment to make sure his hearing aids are functioning as well as they ever will for how bad off his hearing is, Billy’s acting different.

When he’d first walked into his room Billy had been surprisingly bright eyed and bushy-tailed for what he went through, but now he’s just acting all mopey. Max makes him tell Steve what’s wrong, and he confesses that he feels like he’s going to get left behind now that Steve’s all better, because then he has no real reason to visit him anymore. But Steve has one very good reason, and the rest of the story is him making sure Billy knows it.

girlyfriends- This’n’s sort of a non-canon compliant character study about aromantic! Billy, focusing on how awful and uncomfortable he felt with his past girlfriends, messing up dates and never going as far as they wanted him to, which at the time he pinned on liking boys instead, but then after he gets with Steve, he feels like this is different and he likes it, but he’s still not too big on all the lovey dovey, romance stuff. He rationalizes it as like, maybe just being a side effect of him being an asshole or something, but he‘s actually super insecure about how he is in relationships. There is a fluffy resolution though where he embraces his identity, it’s really not all doom and gloom, boo hoo I hate myself stuff.

cali house- Years after Starcourt, the boys have moved to a decent house in California using their government hush hush money, and they’re there for only about a month when Billy’s mother shows up at their door.

She says she caught wind that her son was back in town and wanted to come see him, after all this time. Billy of course lets her back in his life immediately, his mom meant so much to his recovery process and now that she’s here, he can’t turn her away, but Steve’s a little suspicious of her intentions.

He thinks that if she wanted to see Billy, she would’ve done that years ago before he ever even left Cali in the first place, or that you know, she wouldn’t have fucking left him behind. He tries to bring it up with Billy gently, but he won’t hear it, and he feels beyond hurt by the suggestion because he thinks Steve is just jealous that he’s spending time with his mother, who he hasn’t seen for upwards of fifteen years at this point.

They fight and avoid each other for a few days until Billy’s momma admits when he brings it up, over lunch or something saying like, “Steve thought you were using me or something, isn’t that crazy?” and she’s just like “Well, actually...”and tells him that money was tight, and she needed a little extra money, so Billy and his disability checks and his rich (boy)friend seemed like the perfect opportunity to get some.

He goes back home to Steve and expects him to be mad, to rub it in that he was right, but he’s really not, he’s super supportive, and you know, Billy finally realizes he doesn’t need to have this bullshit family thing with his mother, because he already has one, Max and Steve and his friends and all the people that actually care about him.

medical emergency (tw attempted suicide)-

Billy, who’s living on his own in an apartment downtown after Starcourt, deliberately doesn’t get his prescriptions refilled because he’s so done. He’s weak and he’s hurting and he doesn’t feel like himself anymore, and he just feels like he wouldn’t care if his body gave up, if he suffocated in his sleep or had another heart attack. So he doesn’t take care of himself, and when he runs out of oxygen he just doesn’t go get anymore, but he’s halfway to choking on his own blood when he realizes he doesn’t want to die.

He calls Steve, because he’s not calling the cops and he can’t remember anyone’s numbers in his panic, but Steve’s is written on his calendar, scribbled there because they were supposed to make plans for something with the kids. Steve takes him to the hospital, having to fight him to put the CPAP on him to make sure his lungs didn’t collapse before they could get him to Hawkins General, and Billy’s just, so bone tired.

They do all their treatment stuff and get his body back under control, so Steve finally asks him what happened, if maybe he needed someone around to help him remember his meds and stuff, and Billy just, he breaks, like a dam overfilled he just pours out with all of this helplessness and sadness he’d been feeling, how he doesn’t want to live the way he does or at all anymore, and Steve’s heart just breaks for him.

He moves in with him, nobody’s willing to leave him alone after what happened, and Steve (along with Billy getting a new therapist because the old one was incompetent enough to not notice how bad off he was) helps him to realize he has something to live for.

[saleintothe90s]

422. ”Carrie” (May 12 - May 15 1988)

I adore reading about flops. One of my favorite flops to read about is Carrie the musical. A doomed production from the start. Millions of dollars wasted. Bad costumes. Filler songs.

Similar to my Simpsons season 10 review, I wanna give something to the worst aspects of the show. With Simpsons, bad episodes were awarded Marge’s homemade Pepsi. For Carrie, I think I’m going to give the bad parts the “Vending Machine Maxi Pad” award. 

As most anybody who follows Broadway flops knows, clips from Carrie are scarce and are in poor condition on YouTube. Most of the actual clips are from when the show was in test productions in Stratford Upon Avon, but the music has been replaced with the Broadway soundboard.  So, keep that in mind. Most of the time you can’t even make out what’s going on. Here’s the closest copy of the entire show I could find on YouTube, from the Sratford Upon Avon production. 

I know people bash the musical, and sometimes it’s rightfully so, but two things are consistent: Linzi Hateley who played Carrie, and that orchestra that is on.point. Check out the overture.

(source)

The show begins with girls cheering in gym class in the beginning of an aerobics lesson?  The white gym shorts look like diapers. That’s the first of many costume mistakes. 

The song is a banger, I love Darlene Love playing the gym teacher, she’s my favorite part of the song. The only part that is cringey to me is when the girls sing “I go CrAzZyyyyy” and they get on the ground and dance like a toddler having a temper tantrum in a Toys R Us. Since the audio quality is so bad in these clips, I thought at one point the girls were singing about not being caught picking their nose, no, the lyric is:

Bought the clothes, did my nose,

Near the end of the song, the girls are on these rising rafters? It took me for-ever to realize that they were simulating a cheerleader pyramid, and that Carrie had snuck in near the end of the number to be on the bottom of the pyramid. Oh, and she causes it to fall and someone tells her to eat shit. 

“Dream On” is the song that the girls sing while in the showers. Why yes, it does look like they’re in the nude due to the poor quality of the video.  The song is ok, it gives total night driving home from the mall in the late 80s early 90s vibes.  Although one girl says the line, “Six foot three and he's in his forties!”. WHAT. 

Carrie breaks those vibes at around 3:44 by screaming that she’s bleeding. When Miss Gardener slaps Carrie, a cymbal plays. I love it.

I like to imagine that when the girls threw the tampons and pads at Carrie, some flew into the audience. 

“Carrie” is shrill at first, and then it turns into a bit of snoozefest. Linzi sings the name “Carrie” about 458 times. 

Betty Buckley who previously had played the original Grizabella in Cats. and who played the gym teacher in the original movie plays Carrie’s mom. Her song, “Open Your Heart” is pretty good. It’s a nice little break before mom goes bottoms up on Carrie for getting her period (”And Eve Was Weak” [Stratford version with Barbara Cook]):

Carrie: I was in the shower and...

Mom: You’re forbidden from showering with the other girls...

Carrie: I started to bleed!

While Carrie spends the rest of the night in a cellar, the popular girls are at the drive-in. Now, this musical cost over $7 million dollars 1, but yet this was the best set they could think of for a drive-in movie theater: 

It looks like something out of a high school play -- which I guess makes a little sense since they are high schoolers? I’m grabbing at straws here. It cost so much money to put Carrie on, what’s a few more dollars to have two real hollowed out cars on stage, one with Chris (in the red) & Billy (in black) in it, and the other with Sue (pink leggings) and Tommy (purple windbreaker)? 

“Don’t Waste the Moon” is the song sung at the drive-in, with Sue having regrets about throwing tampons at Carrie in the beginning of the song. The song is very 1980s, and it kind of doesn’t fit in the musical. Gene Anthony Ray’s (Billy) talent is wasted here. 

It’s time for some “Evening Prayers” for Carrie where she discusses with God her new telekinesis powers. Meanwhile Carrie’s mom is being a worrywort. During the Stratford production, Carrie’s mom is in a rocking chair over there looking like Whistler’s Mother. 

“You’re going to tell Carrie that you’re sorry!” belts out Miss Gardner. In the musical, Chris seems more obsessed with torturing Carrie than in the movie or book if that’s even possible. Sue is like, “What did she even do to you?”. Even Billy asked earlier, “Who the hell is Carrie White?”. 

Oooof. Seeing the gym teacher try to cheer Carrie up by singing a song about the prom (”Unsuspecting Hearts”) and how she could go too is patronizing. Even if its sung by Darlene Love. 

“Do Me a Favor” might be the most infamous song from the musical. It’s the song I see referred to the most when I read bad reviews. For some reason Chris is wearing a metallic red bodysuit and Sue is wearing a light pink bodysuit. Are they supposed to be that cliche devil and the angel on the shoulder thing? 

Chris looks like Evil Homer! 

I’m going be the unpopular opinion here and say that I love the song! The erratic dancing also fits with the song. 

Carrie tells her mom before “I Remember How Those Boys Would Dance” that Tommy is sweet and polite, but the audience doesn’t know that. Tommy is barely a character in this production. In the end, Carrie uses her powers to shut her mama up.

From what I gather in “Out for Blood” (audio) where Chris and Billy go looking for a pig to kill, the chorus dancers are the pigs? The video quality is so poor. Chris had another crazy ass red outfit on, some sort of shiny red skirt and a crop top. The costumes in this are just horrible. It was like the wardrobe budget was $50. 

This song is so.so.bad. It reminds me of whenever Rocko from Rocko’s Modern Life would see a movie trailer or a parody of something on TV for some reason?! Or the “gotta get that Reptar song” from Rugrats when the kids saw Reptar on ice. Especially when the chorus tells Billy to kill the pig: 

CHORUS Cha! Kill the pig, pig, pig! CHRIS Go! CHORUS Kill 'im, kill 'im, kill, kill! We'll make him bleed! CHRIS Go! CHORUS Get the blood, blood, blood Oooh, blood! CHRIS Oh, baby show... CHORUS Kill the pig, make 'im bleed Let's get the blood, that's all we need!

Sue’s song “It Hurts to be Strong” is a bit of a throw-away. It gets a vending machine maxi pad award. Moving on. It’s filler  

In “I’m Not Alone”, Carrie sings while using her powers to move things around in her room. What things? I don’t know the video quality was so bad. That’s another thing! The sets are nonexistent! I wouldn’t know we were in Carrie’s room unless the Playbill told me. It’s another forgettable song. Three in a row!

Betty Buckley saves the day in, “When There’s No One”, a sad song about facing life without Carrie being her subordinate. 

I don’t understand the prom dresses in “Wotta Night”, they’re all garish giant white numbers that make the actresses look about 20 pounds heaver.  The guys look like that Rio doll from Jem. The costume designer couldn’t just go to Alexanders or A&S and buy prom dresses? You know, why am I even asking at this point. We all saw what Chris has been wearing this whole time. There is a disco ball thrown aside in the corner instead of hanging up. More on that later.

The song sounds way too much like that song “Rock on” by David Essex.  Automatic Vending Machine Maxi Pad. 

Here’s a cute rehearsal clip I found of “Heaven”, the song sung while the Prom Queen and King ballots are being counted. Unfortunately, the audio is bad. Chris is there to remind us that she’s still out for blood.

Finally, finally it’s time for Carrie the prom queen to get drenched with blood -- but the thing is, due to microphone technology back then, Carrie really couldn’t have blood dumped on her. Chris and Billy just run up to her and half ass pour the bucket at her. Could the set designer not suspend the bucket from above the stage? Is that also why the disco ball is thrown in the corner? I don’t even think she has stage blood on her during “The Destruction”, (which is the best song from the musical).  I think a red spotlight over Carrie signifies the blood.

I think Linzi is really only truly covered in blood for press shots. 

Anyway, the Destruction, I love it when she screeches “DOESN’T ANYBODY EVER GET IT RIGHT??! DOESN’T ANYBODY THINK THAT I HEAR?!” It’s the best. I could listen to it all day and I almost did the other day. 

Due the poor video quality, I can’t really tell how the prom-goers are dying. They’re kinda just twitching there in the laser light or slamming themselves against the clear barrier that descended from the stage to signify Carrie closing the doors to the gym. 

After Carie kills everybody, this giant white staircase descends and covers up the gym. I read somewhere, I forgot where, that its supposed to be the school stairs? We’re led to believe that Carrie’s crazy mom ran to the school. The first time I saw it, I thought that it was Carrie and her mom getting ready to go to heaven. I thought maybe someone over at the set department took the classic song too literally. 

It appears that while the stairs are descending, Carrie smears stage blood on her. 

The reprise of “Carrie’ is so much better than the original. Carrie stops her mom’s heart cold mid song. Then she slins down the stairs and Sue catches her. In an interview on playbill.com, Betty Buckley says that on opening night (I don’t know if she meant the first preview, or the official opening night), there were boos from the audience at the end, but cheers for Linzi and herself. I believe it. Betty and Linzi were amazing. Darlene Love was amazing. The rough scenes are the scenes with the school kids. They’re awful, in the words of my boy Jay Sherman, “they’re awful I tell you. aw.ful.” 

(relevant prom .gif) 

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1. Rothstein, Mervyn. “After Seven Years And $7 Million, ‘Carrie’ Is a Kinetic Memory (Published 1988).” The New York Times, May 17, 1988, sec. Theater. https://www.nytimes.com/1988/05/17/theater/after-seven-years-and-7-million-carrie-is-a-kinetic-memory.html.

New York City Broadway reviews on the news in NYC for Carrie.  That first reviewer, Stuart Klein, I love him. I’ve watched several of his reviews on flops on YouTube. Joel Sigel who was the Good Morning America film reviewer is here too. 

Archive of Betty Buckley interview. 

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 22

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @alievans007​

She stands at the kitchen sink, watching through the window as they sit side by side at the patio table. Millie already in her pajamas, hair still damp from a bath, Tyler in a pair of weathered old sweatpants and tattered t-shirt. Their resemblance striking; same color and texture of hair, same ears and profile, even the same shaped lips and those brilliant blue eyes framed by impossibly long and dark lashes.  She’s her father’s child; even more so than the boys; sharing not only physical appearance, but facial expressions and body language.  Even now their faces mirror each other: eyes narrowed, and brows pinched together, mouth set in a thin, stern line. A staring contest and a battle of wills that’s lasted for more than a minute with no sign of either weakening or wavering.  Millie strict and demanding over how she wants things done when it comes to her birthday invitations, her father wondering just how the hell he’d managed to get himself into such a mess in the first place.  They're both ferociously stubborn; Millie even more so. And she always wins; no one is immune to that mop of hair and those eyes and that little voice.  

Her father is especially weak when it comes to her. An almost six-year-old able to bring a man that size, and who possesses so much strength and power, to his knees.  She’s his number one weakness; always balking at scolding her even when she deserves it, succumbing to all the begging and pleading for ‘one more’ bedtime story even though it always turns into five, finding it incredibly hard to say no and very rarely doing so. While his bond with all the kids is strong, the one with Millie is even more so. Perhaps because she’s the first after Austin’s death; a rainbow baby of sorts. Or maybe because she represents the start of his new life; his second chance. A man that had so little to live for suddenly being given everything to live for. She had been conceived in the most unconventional of place during the most unconventional of times. A little blue-eyed miracle that reminds him every day of just how lucky he is to be on this side of the ground.

“Daddy....I am telling you...” Millie finally speaks,  her facial expression never changing and her eyes never wavering from his. “...you HAVE to use the glitter.”

“But I don’t want to use it. That shit gets everywhere. You do it the way you want. Then your mom can bitch at you for getting it all over the place.”

“She’ll bitch at you for letting me use glitter without supervision.”

“I am sitting right here. I am supervising.”

“But you gotta use it too,” she insists. “Or the cards won’t match.”

“They don’t have to, Martha Stewart. Relax.”

“Yes. They do have to match. Why are you being so difficult?”

“Amelia...”

She giggles. “Daddy...”

“You’re not the boss.”

“Neither are you. You just think you are. Mommy’s the boss. Your boss.”

Tyler frowns. “Is that what she said?”

“She doesn’t need to say it. It’s just the way it is. And mommy would tell you to use the glitter too.”

“You and I both know that’s bullshit. She’d never say that. She hates glitter.”

“She hates play-doh and slime,” Millie argues.

“And glitter.”

“She never said that!”

“Excuse me? Yes, she did. After your brother got mad at you and dumped a whole container of it in your backpack. Remember? When we still lived at the old house?”

“Oh yeah,” Millie scowls, then pulls her top lip between her teeth and then releases it with an audible ‘pop’. “...well I guess that means you should be really, really careful with it then.”

“I guess that means you should get someone else to help. A glitter bitch.”

“Daddy! That’s a bad word! Why do you have to give me such a hard time? Don’t be like all the other boys in the house. Please don’t.”

“How would like another brother?” Tyler counters.

She gives a dramatic gasp. “Why would you do me like that? Isn’t three enough? Why so many boys? Boys are dumb. And annoying. Except you of course.”

Grinning, he lays a hand on the top of her head and presses a noisy kiss to her temple. “You are so lucky you added that last part.”

“Why? What would you do? Nothing. Because you love me too much.”

“You know what?”  His voice and face are stern at first, but then a slow grins spreads from ear to ear and he scoops her up and places her in his lap; pressing kisses against her cheeks and rubbing his beard against her skin until she’s giggling and squirming in a half assed attempt to escape; little hands on his cheeks trying to push him away, the squeals becoming even louder when his fingers dig into her stomach and start tickling.  

“What?” Millie asks, when the playful assault ends, and she kneels in his lap facing him; hands delicately cradling his face, a look of pure adoration on her face as she regards him.   “What daddy?”

“Get back in your seat and hand me the goddamn glitter.”

Esme laughs and then turns away from the window, busying herself with making a tea and a coffee and tidying the kitchen. The house is eerily quiet for only nine at night; both Declan and Addie fast asleep upstairs, Mac curled up under her crib, snoring lightly.  Normally the twins are still tearing around. Either tormenting one another or their older sister or burning off the last of their energy in the pool or down on the beach. She misses them; the dirty handprints that she is constantly wiping off every surface, the sand that they track through every inch of the house, those little voices –and even their squabbling- and the way they eventually fall asleep either spread out on the couch with the tops of their heads touching, or on the bottom bunk pressed back to back.  

They’re a handful and have been since day one; a pregnancy filled with complications and scares. But they’re a joy. Rambunctious and mischievous. Fearless to a fault. Always willing to try new adventures, as long as they’re together for them.

The sun is beginning to set as she steps out onto the patio, and the strings of solar powered white lights wrapped around the patio railings springing to life, bathing the area in a soft, almost soothing glow. And she places the steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of her husband, then lays a hand on the back of his neck and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Despite the outwardly display of confidence and the rare genuine smile that crosses his face, he’s struggling. The last couple of days have been especially rough; medications not enough to take away that edge and that sense of impending doom she knows he’s feeling.  It’s so many things: TJ’s troubles, Millie’s rapidly approaching sixth birthday, the situation with Ovi and the very real possibility of having to get back in the game.  But he gives her an appreciative smile and lays a hand on her hip; gently squeezing before allowing his hand to lightly slide over her ass.

“Just what are you guys doing?” she inquires and slips into the chair at the head of the table; a foot on the seat, bottom of her hoodie pulled over her knee.

“I don’t even know anymore,” Tyler admits. “I just do what I’m told.”

“We’re making birthday invitations,” Millie says. “Glittery ones.”

“Yeah...I see that...” Esme frowns, then moves her seat back from the table to avoid any wayward sparkles. “You know that crap is going to be everywhere for weeks, right?”

“Daddy already has it in his hair,” Millie giggles. “And in his beard.”

“Because you thought it would be hilarious to dump glitter in your hands and rub them all over my head,” he complains.

“It was funny!” she exclaims. “You’re going to be sparkly forever now. A sparkly daddy.”

“Like one of those vampires in Twilight,” Esme muses, and he gives her a dirty look. “Just much more handsome.”

“I have vampires,” Millie announces. “Daddy could kick their asses.”

“Damn right,” he agrees.

“Daddy would kick all the monsters’ asses, right daddy? Like you kicked all the bad guys asses. Do you miss kicking bad guys’ asses?”

“You know what I miss? I miss when you didn’t say ass every five seconds.”

“Better than the s word or the f word,” she reasons, and kneels in her chair to reach for plastic container full of pencil crayons sitting in the middle of the table. “Do you? Miss kicking the bad guys’ asses?”

“Nope,” he quickly replies. “I don’t.”

Esme knows it isn’t the entire truth; someone just doesn’t give up a job...a life...like the one he’d been leading and not experience some fall out. It’s fast paced and generous; living life constantly on edge and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Days and sometimes weeks of putting your ass on the line to help a stranger; shedding a lot of blood, sweat, and tears for that pay out in the end. The job is exhilarating; every mercenary will admit to that.  That there’s a certain rush that comes with the intensity. And most won’t say it out loud, but there’s a feeling of satisfaction you get when you witness revenge and karma up close; even if it means you’re delivering them yourself with your bare hands.  

His entire adult has been that existence. First the military, then the job. And there’s no way he doesn’t miss. It’s quite the change; going from that life to one of routine and domesticity.  

“I bet the bad guys don’t miss you,” Millie muses. “They were tired of getting their asses kicked.  But who does it now that you don’t? Who goes after the bad people?”

“Other guys,” Tyler responds.

“What other guys?”

“Guys like me. Who do that sort of thing. There’s lots of guys like that out there.”

“And girls too?”

“I guess. I suppose there’s girls out there that do that kind of thing. Mommy did.”

Esme directs a kick to his shin under the table, then shakes her head when he gives her a quizzical look.

“Mommy sort of did that job,” he quickly adds. “She helped guys like me out. She helped track down the bad people and then told guys like me where we could find them.”

“Mmmm...” Millie considers this, head cocked to the side, eyes focused on the drawing she’s creating. “....is that how you met?”

“Yup. When I used to live here before I had you or your sister or your brothers.”

“In this house?”

“Not in THIS house. In my old house. Well it wasn’t really a house. It was more like a shack. But there’s where I met mommy. A long time ago. Auntie Nik brought her there and introduced us.”

“We should go there sometime,” Millie suggests. “To your old place. To see it.  Who lives there now?”

“A friend of mine. You met him a few times when you were a baby.”

“I want to go there,” she decides. “To your old place.  I want to see where you met mommy. Is that where you helped put me in her tummy?”

“No. That happened somewhere else,” Esme speaks up. “In an entirely different country. In Bangladesh. A place called Dhaka. Daddy and I were working there. That’s where you were made.”

“We should go there too,” Millie concludes.

“Yeah, that’s a no from me,” Tyler says. “That’s not a place I want to go back to.”

“Is that where you almost died?”  

Esme watches her husband’s face; mug pressed against her lips as she waits for his reaction. Noticing the small intake of breath and the slow, steady way he releases it.  The way his shoulders tense and his leg begins to shake back and forth underneath the table.  

“Yeah...” he finally speaks, then turns his attention towards the craft in front of him. His eyes are dark and that vein in his neck...the one that had to be surgically repaired after being blown out by Farhad- begins to pulsate. “...that’s where I almost died.”

“How?” Millie asks.

“You know what,” Esme comes to his aid.  “This isn’t a good time to talk about these kinds of things. Not so close to bedtime, okay Millie? It will give you nightmares and as much as we love you, we don’t want you sleeping with us until you’re eighteen.”

“It won’t give me nightmares,” she argues. “I’m fine.”

“Amelia...” Her tone and her face are stern; the warning in her voice noticeable enough that her daughter looks up at her. “Not right now. Thank you.”

Silence falls on the table, no further conversation for several minutes. Nothing but the sound of the waves rolling onto the shore, the slight rustle of the trees, and the soft scrape of pencil crayons against paper. And Tyler reaches under the table to lay a hand on Esme’s thigh, squeezing lightly and giving her a small, grateful smile. There are days when he can talk openly and honestly about what happened in Dhaka. He was able to tell the therapist the whole story without even breaking a nervous sweat. But there’s other times where it’s unbearable; the memories too strong and too painful. The mental wounds still too fresh and feeling still too raw.

“Look at you,” Esme laughs, and the lays a hand on the side of his face and turns his head towards her. “You have glitter everywhere. It’s all in your beard. It looks like you went down on a stripper. I hope you don’t think you’re coming near my bits looking like that.”

He grins. “Oh, I so am.”

“Like hell you are. Last thing I need is being sparkly down there. I don’t know how you’re going to get all that out of there,” she vigorously rubs her palms against her beard, then frowns as she studies the purple and silver flecks left behind on her skin. “It couldn’t at least be a good color that brings out your eyes?”

“Might have to just shave the whole thing off,” he says.

“Like hell you will. We’ve talked about this. Do you want a divorce? Because that’s how you get a divorce.”

“You don’t even know what I look like clean shaven.”

“You’re not Tyler without a beard. Your kids won’t even recognize you. That's how they know you. That’s how I know you.”

“Don’t do it, daddy,” Millie implores. “You’ll look totally different. Like a stranger. I want you to look like daddy.”

“Two against one,” Esme says. “The beard stays.”

“You only look like the beard because when we do...well when I do...you know... you like the way it feels.”

“I’ll give you that. But it’s also because it’s rugged and manly and you look so freaking sexy with it. Even with silver and purple glitter in it. Speaking of glitter....” she stands up and picks up on of the finished creations. “...I take it she mentioned her party and you went along with it.”

“Come on, you knew I wouldn’t say no.”

“I did,” she admits. “But that doesn’t mean I want you to be completely uncomfortable and miserable, either. That’s a lot of people. Here. In your space. I know how much you value your space. So, if you think it’s too much to deal with...”

“I’ll be okay,” he says. “I’ll deal.”

She stares at him pointedly, brows arches.

“I’ll be fine, babe,” he assures her, and reaches out to lay a hand on the small of her back. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.”

“Daddy’s tough,” Millie declares.  “Super tough.”

“Yes,” her mother agrees. “The toughest guy I’ve ever known, that’s for sure.”

“Is that why you fell in love with him?” Millie inquires. “Because he’s tough?”

“There’s a lot of reasons why I fell with him,” Esme replies, as she sits back down in her seat and places her feet in her husband’s lap. “I guess being tough was once of them. Because I knew that I’d always be safe, and I’d have nothing to be scared of when he’s around. That he'd always be willing to protect me and be able to physically do it.”

Tyler smiles and gives her a wink, his hand giving her foot a squeeze.

“He also had really cool hair and crazy beautiful eyes,” she continues. “And big arms. Not to mention that face. Pretty damn handsome, I think. He was kind of mean though. When we first met.”

Millie’s eyes widen as she looks towards her father. “You were mean? To mommy?! Did you make her cry?”

“I did not make her cry and I was not mean.”

“Not right away,” Esme says. “But he got really mean and really bossy when we got to Dhaka.”

“Listen, your mom’s not telling you the truth,” Tyler address his little girl. “I got a little mean, yeah. You want to know why? Because even then your mommy didn’t like to listen to a word I say. And I was in charge and she did something I told her not to and she got in trouble and I got mad.”

“I just put him in his place though,” Esme says with a shrug as she sips her tea. “That just made him even more mad and even meaner. Deep down though, I think he liked it. A woman being all assertive and aggressive with him.”

“I’m not afraid to admit that I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

“That was obvious,” Esme grins, and presses her toes into his crotch.

“You think I’m tough, Millie? Your mom’s even tougher than I am. Hands down the toughest woman...person...I’ve ever met. She’s little, but she’s bad ass.”

“Like me!” Millie cheerfully exclaims.

“You’re exactly like her in a lot of ways. You know how tough someone has to be to  trick the bad guys into telling her secrets and letting her know where they are? Crazy tough. When you get older, I’ll tell you a story about how she handled things in Ireland against some pretty scary people.  She went in there and talked them all by herself. She wasn’t even scared. Not for a second. I was proud of her. Insanely proud.”

“Don’t make me cry,” Esme pleads, and gives him a brilliant smile. “Because my hormones are all over the place since having your daughter and I’m liable to bawl at anything.”

“Mommy’s the most amazing person I’ve ever known,” he continues. “Not a lot of people would do what she did. When she stuck around to help me in Dhaka. No one else was going to do it. I would have died if she hadn’t had been there.”

“But you didn’t,” Esme says. “And that’s all that matters.”  

She hates being praised for it; truly believing that she’d done what anyone with a conscience and an ounce of compassion would have done in that situation. Ovi had been too young; there’s no way he should have had to spring into action and shoulder that kind of responsibility. But there’d been no excuse for Nik. There were other team members there; they could have easily kept the situation under control while she held; at least lending a hand to control the bleeding long enough to get him into the chopper and get both Ovi AND him out of there.  

And she’ll hold that grudge for the rest of her life; every time the subject of Dhaka comes up or she looks at the scar on her husband’s neck.  

****

Ovi arrives just as darkness fully sets in, standing on the bottom step of the patio; cautiously watching them for several minutes, hands shoved in his pockets, nervously rocking back and forth on his heels.  

“You don’t have to just stand there, mate,” Tyler speaks up. “You can join us, you know.”

The younger man breathes a sigh of relief as he climbs the steps, giving Esme a small, apologetic smile which she returns with a curt one of her own before looking away. Their talk the night before had left a bitter taste in both of their mouths; she’d been harsh and brutally honest and refuses to make any apologies for it. She doesn’t understand how, despite all of the things he’s seen and heard in Dhaka and the years following it, that he can be so steadfast about diving headfirst into such a dangerous life. She’d laid out the hardest of truths she possibly could; the long-lasting effects on Tyler’s mental and physical health, the demons and the monsters that prey on every day, the trickle-down effects and impacts the entire family. Yet he remains determined. Either too stubborn to face the truth, or too just immature and ignorant.

“Millie, why don’t we go inside and get a bedtime snack,” Esme suggests, when Ovi steps up onto the patio, finishing the last of her tea and pushing her chair away from the table. “You can finish these tomorrow, okay? I think daddy’s had just about as much glitter and coloring he can take.”

“Okay,” she willingly –and surprisingly- agrees. “You’ll still tuck me in right, daddy?”

“You know it. Just come and get me when you’re ready, yeah?”

Nodding, she curls an arm around his neck and sweetly pecks his lips. Then scurries over to Ovi and wraps her arms around his, tightly squeezing.

“I can’t deal with this tonight,” Esme says, when Tyler catches her by the wrist before she can leave, a concerned and almost puzzled look on his face. “I don’t want to deal with it all. You do what you have to do. I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

He nods in understanding, and she leans down to press a soft, quick kiss to his lips before ushering Millie into the house.

“I think she’s still mad,” Ovi comments, as he drops into a chair at the end of the table.

“Really?” Tyler scoffs. “What gave you that impression?”

Standing, he begins tidying up the table, stuffing pencil crayons, glue sticks, and tubes of sparkles into small plastic storage containers. A far cry from when his hands used to inflict pain and even death on others; glitter caked under his nails and stuck to his fingers as opposed to blood and dirt. And it horrifies him how disappointed he feels over the thought; how blood seemed so much better and easy to accept than a child’s craft supplies. It’s not the first time in six months he’s missed what things were like before, and he knows it won’t be the last. That it will always be there; that side of him that had actually enjoyed the job and the payday that came with.  

And it fucking disgusts him.

“I understand why she’s upset,” Ovi says.  

Tyler regards him, eyebrow arched. “Do you? ‘Cause I don’t think you do.”

“She doesn’t want you getting back into this. Into that job. Into the job. Because if what happened in New Zealand.”

“Do you even understand what went on there? Why I left? Why I called it quits and came home? Because something tells me you don’t.”

“Mental health issues.”

“That’s part of it. I came home because I couldn’t fucking do it anymore. I’d had enough. Of that life and all the bullshit that came with it. Fucking death and blood and gore and everything that came with it. Helping people that don’t give a shit if I’m alive or dead at the end.”

“I gave a shit,” Ovi reminds him.

“You know how long I’d be doing the job? Almost sixteen years. That’s a fucking lifetime for guys like me.”

“Guys like us,” the younger man stresses.

“You’re not there yet. You might not even get there. You might not even get past what I have in store for you. You want to think it’s all a big game and that it’s something you ‘just want to try out’? Well you’re going to see just how fucking fun it is when I get a hold of you. So if you’re having any second thoughts, I’d back out now before it’s too late and I have you curled up in a ball of your own puke and piss.”

Ovi blinks at the harshness in his voice.

“You wonder why she’s upset? Why she’s pissed off with you? With the whole fucking world right now? Do you know how many promises I’ve made to her that I’ve broken? So many that she doesn’t even believe me when I make promises anymore. That’s fucking sad. It’s pathetic. And here I am, breaking another one.”

“You’re not exactly...”

“You know what? You don’t get to talk. You're just going to sit there and listen to what I have to say. You want to be a man and make these kinds of decisions? Then you sit there and let another man tell you the way things are. I’m not just random off the street that doesn’t know what he’s talking about. The job was my life. It’s who I was. And when I walked away, I thought I left it behind. And then you come along with this bullshit...”

“Tyler...I...”

“Just shut the fuck up and listen,” he growls. “I’m not fucking around here, Ovi. I’m not pulling any punches. It wasn’t just the job that screwed with my head. There was a lot of things that fucked me up. Things you don’t even know about. All the way back to when I was a kid. But the job? The job fucked me in more ways than you can even begin to imagine. You think it’s fun killing people? That I actually enjoyed it? I took pride in it?”

Ovi shakes his head.

“I did it for the money. That’s it. I didn’t do it to help people. I didn’t give a shit about myself, why would I give a shit about them? And then you came along, and Dhaka happened, and that was my one chance to make things right. For redemption. To prove I wasn’t a shit human being. And part of me was ready to die that day. More than ready.  And another part of me wanted to stay alive because I thought maybe...just maybe...I’d met someone that could teach me how to give a shit again. That would actually give a shit about me.”

“She obviously did. And still does. Or she wouldn’t be here.”

“She stayed behind on that bridge. Knowing there was a chance that Asif would get a hold of her.  Do you know what would have happened to her if he had? What he would have done to her? Way worse than he would have done to you. He would have killed you quickly.  He would have waited days with her. Weeks. Until he was bored with her; tired of doing all kinds of sick and twisted shit to her.”

Ovi swallows heavily, tears welling in his eyes.

“And she still stayed. Knowing what would happen if she got caught there. Fucking Nik took off. She wasn’t even going to come back for us. Everything should have told Esme to leave me there and she didn’t. So don’t come here...to my house...and even think about disrespecting my wife.”

“I wasn’t going to. I...”

“You didn’t even give a shit about what she had to say last night. She’s trying to save your life and you didn’t even care. She doesn’t want you ending up like me, don’t you fucking get that? You think I want to be like this? Fucked in the head? Having to take medication every morning to just goddamn function like somewhat of a human being? You think I want my wife and my kids to see me like this? What the hell is wrong with you that you can’t see what the job does? It hasn’t just fucked me up, it’s fucked all of them up. My wife, my kids. Why can’t you see that?”

“I don’t expect you to get back into the job. Just to help me. And you said you would. With the training. You said...”

“You think it’s really going to stop there? That that’s going to be enough? I’m going to get dragged back into this shit. You know it, I know it. Esme knows it. And it’s fucking killing her inside. Because I told her that this time I was done for good. And now look. Look at the goddamn mess you’ve gotten me into.”

“I never meant to...”

“Never meant to what? Bring me back into it? Bullshit. It’s what you wanted right from the get-go. You never wanted to do  this alone. You wanted me with you right from the start. Well now you got what you want. You’ve got me right back into this crap. Whether I want to be in it or not. You know I wouldn’t let you do it alone. You damn well knew from the start I’d never let that happen, didn’t you.”

Ovi reluctantly nods.

“Well I hope you’re prepared then. Because I’m not going to make this easy on you. You want me to drag me off to some shit hole and get me killed, I get to do things my way. And I swear to Christ, if my marriage falls apart because of this and I lose my kids....”

“You won’t. That won’t happen. She’d never leave. You know she wouldn’t.”

“I know she WOULD. Don’t tempt it. I break one more promise to her and it’s done. She’ll take off and I’ll never see my kids again. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making yours miserable because of it. Understand me?”

“I don’t understand why you’re both so worried. Why you’re both so upset. I don’t...”

“What if I don’t come back?” Tyler angrily interjects. “What if this is the one time no one is around to save me? What if it’s the one time a sniper puts a bullet in my head instead of my chest? Do you know what I leave behind? Five kids. Five little kids that deserve so much better than this. Does that even matter to you? Do they even matter to you?”

“Of course they do!” Ovi exclaims. “I love those kids! They’re my brothers and sisters! How could you even ask me that? How could you...?”

“You love them but you’re willing to take their dad away from them? It’s okay that I go in there to rescue your ass, but I get killed for it? I leave them behind; I leave Esme behind. Do you know what that would do to her? Me not coming back? Like what the fuck?”  He angrily tosses the craft supplies into a storage container on the edge of the patio and slams the lid closed. “Do you not realize everything I stand to lose?”

“I do. I do realize that. You have a life. A wife and kids and...:”

“And you’re still going to do it. You’re still going to go ahead with this bullshit.”

Ovi sighs.  

“We start the day after Millie’s birthday. I don’t want to hear anything more about it until then. You know you’re more than welcome to keep coming over here, just don’t talk about this again. Not in front of my wife. And especially not in front of my kids.  Understand me?”

“I understand.”

“We’re finished here. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s been a long fucking day and I’m done with it. With everything. I’m going into Port Douglas tomorrow to take Millie to see my dad. You can come along if you don’t mention a word of this around her.”

“Okay. I’d like that. To see him again.  And I’m sorry. I really am. For all the problems. For all the bullshit. I never meant to cause issues. Especially for you and Esme. I never meant...”

“You come between us and fuck things up, I will make your life hell,” Tyler vows, as he gathers up the dirty coffee mug and steps towards the entrance to the house.  “I lose my family because of all this, it won’t end well for you.”

“Tyler, I...”

“We’re done with this,” he says, and then slams the door closed behind him.

[archiveddvrpg]

Congratulations, KAT! You’ve been accepted for the role of OTHELLO. Admin Rosey: So, one thing that’s really difficult to highlight without overemphasizing is Othello’s dichotomy and his constant conflict. Sometimes you can focus so wholly on one aspect of a character that it’s overwhelming. But Kat, you write Odin so effortlessly, so FREAKING effortlessly that you capture it throughout the application as an integral part of his character -- interweaving it into the plot, the sample, even the “what drew you to this character” section. I am completely blown away and utterly terrified of what havoc you’re going to wreak on the dash. I am screaming over this application and I always will, time and time again. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Kat Age | 25 Preferred Pronouns | She/her Activity Level | OK so my classes went online and my job has cut staff in half so I have so much free time and so much muse. Listen…. LISTEN I know I’m not always reliable but it’s game time lemme say like at least twice a week, I’m here for the haul let’s write baby!!!!!!!!!!! Timezone | EST How did you find the rp? | I originally came across it in the lsrpg tag, also my girl Taryn recommended it and also I miss y’all :( Current/Past RP Accounts | These are links to inactive past accounts:

https://neosy.tumblr.com/ https://grchcmisms.tumblr.com/ https://99gael.tumblr.com/ https://halogenq.tumblr.com/ https://odinbellc.tumblr.com/ ;) https://pavellam.tumblr.com/

IN CHARACTER

Character | Othello, Odin Bello – requesting faceclaim change to Trevante Rhodes :^) What drew you to this character? |

Through my first experience writing Odin I learned a lot about both him and myself as a writer. He was initially a challenge for me because at my roots I was never someone successful in writing characters with good intent, the easier side of him being the one of violence and chaos, something that was difficult considering more often than not… that isn’t who Odin is, or more fittingly, who he wants to be. I struggled with his daily life, the man he tries so hard to be and who he’s used to becoming over the years and I realized that was the key in; the struggle. I’ve teetered around writing for a while recently, the desire and the muse not being there for me when I remembered my dear, dear, Odin and for a split second I wondered about him. Such an interesting thing, to wonder about a character, to dive deep into your mind’s eye and ask, “How is he doing, I wonder? The man of gold and copper, the being of olympus and hades? How is my boy?” And realizing the responsibility of creating and finding that out is all mine. It felt like seeing a past lover in the check out line, wide eyes as you remember the missed calls and blocked number, and realize how fuckin’ good they look today and, damn, were stupid for leaving them.

Dearest Odin, please take me back. I miss you so dearly. I’ll try hard not to leave you so suddenly this time, that was my bad.

Who am I to fool myself? My heart always brings me back to him. Feed me an optimist with nothing but a history of failure, rocks beating down on a pristine marble surface til the cracks spell misery. It’s all his fault, the pain, suffering, and failure… but he tries so hard. It’s as if he’s doomed from the beginning, the first cries from his mouth as a child, a bad omen, the first steps he takes, the small tottering of a baby, were faced in the wrong direction. Some people are born bad, some people are cultivated as such, and Odin, at his root, is a demon in disguise even despite his most valiant efforts; it’s a nature he fights everyday and, oh, the battle grows bloodier and bloodier.

The rest may look familiar to you:

I’ve always been a sucker for a good heart and bruised knuckles.

Such beauty and chaos, such destruction and uncertainty, an aching heart that slips through your fingers as you struggle to grasp it, begging it to hold still. He shakes and struggles with nature and nurture, who he should be and who he wants to be, and more importantly, what he’s become. He feels the remorse and pain of it everyday when he wakes and each night he goes to sleep – for a time he managed to be the person he worked so hard to be. It crumbled under his feet and his developing insanity, the rumble of his father’s ways breaking the ground under his skin and causing something of a snap, a moment of true obscurity. He hates himself for it, but he cannot yet again break his mold, he cannot become someone else. His will is cracking, his heart breaking.

Give me his nuance, give me his pain, give me his turmoil, and oh, please, give me his struggle; the desperate gasp of collapsed lungs and a tattered chest. I cannot stress how beautiful I find him, the feeling in my ribcage so solemn at his childhood and forthcoming, his painful attributes and breaking spirit. A man who shows his kindness through terror and bloodshed, so intent on being a good person that he’d tear the throat of a thief with his teeth.

Yes, I’ve found love.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | Where do you see this character developing, and what kind of actions would you have them take to get there? 3 future plot ideas would be preferable.

(I have new ideas but lord, do I struggle with formulating plot ideas in this format so I’m just gunna keep the same ones because of such and because I DO in fact still want to play them out.)

MEN SHOULD BE WHAT THEY SEEM //

Oh, can the flash of his teeth brighten a room. His smile is bright but, these days, so rarely genuine. He no longer knows who he is truly fighting for, what side of the coin he lays on with his copper spinning on its side in a never ending spiral. He does not know where he belongs, nor, who he truly is and it plagues him in a way that’s all too familiar, a way that feels like his mother’s comfort and his father’s recklessness, the smell of alcohol on someone’s tongue when they speak and the feeling of a caress on skin. He needs to make a choice, a permanent decision for once in his life, pick his path and follow it to the end instead of cutting through the woods once more. Who are you, Odin? His own face in the mirror becoming more unfamiliar in each passing day, a building anxiety and insanity, a hurricane creating a disaster inside him. Who are you?

His reflection tired, tainting his handsome face and false expressions, a hunger growing just under the surface, a desperation so hot; who will you be?

FOR SHE HAD EYES AND CHOSE ME //

Delilah, oh, how she filled something inside of him, and oh, how he tore into the filled space as if rabid, as if being whole was too much to bear, the filled space too heavy, and the paranoia of losing it all creasing his forehead and melting in his palms.

So he did what he does best, and he ripped through the plaster and insulation like a hammer, shattered the glass and caused the empty space to bleed. It hasn’t stopped aching, despite his insistence that it has healed, sometimes he still wakes with his shirt soaked in blood, drenched in suffering. How can he learn to forgive? He learned his lessons but the morals cannot seem to stick, the weakness he caused in his own self and the horror he caused for the woman he loved – loves, still finding its way through his mind and heart. He seeks self forgiveness just as much if not more than he seeks hers. He cannot move on without finding solace or closure but those are two things so hard to capture and accept. Sometimes, he feels so much like his father with his past misgivings it stirs disgust.

It’s time to repent.

THE GREEN EYED MONSTER //

Ivan is a scab, an infection that Odin refuses to treat. He’s become cautious, wearily aware of betrayal in the past and more on the horizon. He has a feeling, a ponderance that keeps him up at night, the sends shocks through his veins. He hates to think of his friend, his family, as a traitor, as a monster in disguise seeking to antagonize the worst parts of Odin himself, but it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore. It scrapes the back of his mind, creates an itch that he cannot scratch no matter how deep he digs, no matter if the skin starts bleeding, it won’t go away. How does he cut out another piece of his life, another piece of himself so vital? It feels like he is losing those most important to him, that they’re all turning on him and it creates nothing but fear, more paranoia and uncertainty.

He wants so desperately to be wrong, but knows what will happen if he is not.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | If anyone deserves to die at some point in this rp I feel like Odin’s a good contender to get fuckin’ GANKED

IN DEPTH

Please choose between the interview or the para sample (or both, if you like!)

In-Character Para Sample:

Act I

The sun beats down on darkened skin, wind blowing through open cruiser windows, sunglasses adorned on his face and a holder keeps track of coffees. In the daylight he glistens – not in a literal sense of glowing skin and eyes, he does not hover over the earth as if ethereal, not a streak against the sky that blinds any human eyes that dare linger, but instead in the sense that no one could ever find the man to be anything but happy. His teeth, those straight, white, teeth that come alive in a smile and clear rooms with a sneer peek from behind pulled lips in a grin. He walks with a swagger, bearing gifts in coffee for other officers and sharp humor and barked laughs for poor moods. He so easily falls into the facade of being created from nothing but light and the body of Christ, a saint in all regards except moral, light jests greeting all who perceive him and all who engage.

Well groomed, upkept and clean, there was no reason to suspect anything was amiss in the crook of his grins, the sharp of his wit, the movements of his muscles under skin. He even makes arrests like a holy man, like someone with something to lose to violence. His hands rest on the steering wheel, music plays from the stereo and he nods his head, every other line finding its way out of his lips even in no one’s presence but his own. He isn’t playing a character in the moment, enjoying the everydayness of the outside world, the warmth of the air touching his limbs and being sucked into his lungs. He feels joy, he embodies it, he hovers with it. His foot eases off the gas at the turn of a light and one hand finds itself resting outside the drivers window, head cocked to the side, heart beating steadily in his chest – firm and ever present in the strength of his pulse.

A human being in all forms; a person, a person, a person, and his phone rings.

Pulling in the parking lot he answers the call, the perspective outside leaves the voice on the other end muffled as it’s pressed to his ear, his face falling ever so slightly, car pushed into park. He nods even though the speaker cannot see him, he makes a sound of understanding as they continue and suddenly something is more solid inside of him. The fluidity, the liquid that flowed between sunlight and good music steels itself against the reality of his life, of who he is and what he is to do, the lake jostled and good-feelings distorted. It’s not for the faint of heart, not created for those with poor constitution, and he is a police officer until ten tonight; that’s what he says to the voice on the other end so they tell him to have it done by eleven. He does not hesitate until he hangs up, a sigh of the last good breath leaving his lungs. A moment of silence for what he lost.

He grabs the coffees and heads inside.

Act II

The headlights send streaks through the night, the yellow color sending shadows running rampant across the near empty field – long and sickly. The air is not still but choked, a vice grip stealing the oxygen away from those who dared attempt breathing. There stood a figure in the darkness, large shoulders over a larger frame, muscles tightened as he digs and digs, the shovel breaking the earth harshly with each bend of his arms. His breathing is rough, like a rubber band pulled to full capacity trying to bend and break to fit the expansion of his lungs. The shovel carries on.

The silence that hung heavy around the lone sound of crumbling dirt could kill in its own regard; ringing in his ears as he ignores the shower curtain wrapped in duct tape buried in the back corners of his trunk. Odin’s mind is empty to everything but the task, split skin and dried blood from his face and knuckles, the bruises adorning his ribcage. Perhaps it was self defense for the sake of defense, he threw the first punch but it was returned just as well and by then, truly, the control was lost. It was what they had wanted to happen, and he was nothing if not complicit. He supposed that was what they liked about him, another body, a bloodhound. Caving for the sake of therapy, sober by daylight and drenched in sweat and blood by nighttime –  if only to keep his sanity. He was nothing if not built of power and control in both physical and mental regards over everyone but himself.

Try to carve a better god out of wood, put him on a pedestal and pray all you’d like, the real sacrifice will come in blood much later – but this flesh and bone, that which has created the man who finds himself up to his chest in dirt standing at over six feet, he is paid now and up front. He is solid, and real.

He straightens up, dirt caked to his jeans and soiled t-shirt, sweat broken across his skin making him shine under the glare of the headlight, the sheen making him appear as if glowing under the half exposed moon. He plants his hands on the outside on the deepened earth and pulls himself out, breathing hard through his nose, a noise like a grunt, face twisted, teeth appearing behind pulled lips. He stares at the dip of the trunk, chest moving, knuckles tightening, shovel thrown to the side. He isn’t even halfway done yet; he gathers himself, and pulls the latch free.

Act III

(TW: self harm kind of)

The neighborhood is still and quiet, blackness behind every window and curtain at such an ungodly hour, the only sounds being the low rumble of the occasional car passing on the main road nearby. In the stillness there begins a movement, the shape of a tall man shaking open the gate leading to the back of a house, his clothes defiled and leaving trails. He strips in the backyard of the home; shoes, socks, shirt, and jeans forming a pile of mud and dirt by the sliding glass doors until he stands in his boxers, fingers unlocking the back door, the cold of the night wetting trails down his back and sides, whispering to his skin. He walks slowly to avoid making any noise, the sound of keys hitting the granite of a kitchen countertop. Even despite how delicately he walks, the mass of his body makes the stairs protest lowly when his feet find them.

The man first goes to the bathroom, the light flicked on as he tries to avoid his face in the mirror. He is not the same creature that caused the blood to pool in his wounds, not the same monster with dirt caked under his nails – not here, he can’t be; not in front of her. He turns on the shower, body directed towards a corner of the bathroom while he waits for the water to heat, staring blankly at the space where the two walls meet, hands twitching, brain fighting not to think, the sound of static until smoke fills the room. The adrenaline still pumps through his veins, the wild-eyed insanity created by anger and a lack of self control, the rush of the final blow still stinging in the shaking of his muscles. The water turns first brown from the dirt adorning his limbs, then becoming a far more sinister red when he submerges his face and hands, he washes himself slowly, rubbing at his back and shoulders, the sweat off of his skin, the searing pain of smoking water near boiling scalding the back of his neck. He doesn’t allow himself to think, not now, not yet. He doesn’t hum or sing, doesn’t talk to himself, but instead thinks only of his actions as they happen or nothing at all.

He doesn’t know how long he stands under the water, so hot it scalds, burns off the sin and the disgust, scrubbing and scrubbing until he could feel himself beginning to cause harm, wounding, convincing himself he’s becoming clean until he forces his hand, stopping the running water. He stands even longer still, his wet skin freezing over in the silence of the steamed room. Finally when he finds himself ready, he dries off until he feels pristine, the wash of the shower head like a baptism into the form of a different man, a new mold built into his model. Only then does he look in the mirror, eyes meeting the reflection of a handsome man, a cursed man, a martyr only in the sense of self respect and fear. His eyes are tired, his face adorning new cuts and scratches, bruises blooming his sides under skin and over muscle. He aches all over. He bares his teeth at the reflection and it does it right back, a snarl of bright white, the bones straight and sharp, and his eyes so quickly become frightening. He turns away.

Odin’s face peers around the door of a new room, hands finding covers and the soft sound of a woman waking. She turns to him, her face telling of sleep and her lips turned slightly down in a frown, her hands finding his chest, wrapping around his torso, her face in his neck, breath fanning over that damn skin of his and she says, “Long night?”

His fingers trail down the back of her shirt, fingertips pressing to the small of her exposed back stretched between her clothes and he hums quietly, face buried in her hair, body melting and moving to fit hers more comfortably, grip tight to squeeze her form, to hold onto something solid, to find his anchor. “Always, baby. Go back to sleep.” He says in a low voice, something comfortable, something familiar there, as if he’s smiling. She makes a noise of acceptance, curling even further towards him, as if a safety, sinking even further as his fingers trail up and down her back, soothing, as to not allow her to be distraught. Delilah was always the one he worried about, not concerning himself with the rotting inside his own chest, the ache of something breaking within him. He fights with the inability to sleep while the rush of the night still feeds inside of him. He does not concern himself with what little is left of him because while he is with her he is safe from the part of himself that only consumes, he is not concerned with the fragility of his own being, not while he breathes in the heat radiating off of l'amore della sua vita.

Meanwhile, miles and miles away, something begins to rot under the cover of freshly turned Earth.

Extras: I made a tag for him a long time ago and haven’t touched it much since tbh but like I'ma probably add stuff the next few days so this 4 u: https://hypnosreigns.tumblr.com/tagged/character:%20odin%20bello

[shewhowantsmouseears]

The Little Peach, Chapter 13

Notes: As always, thanks to my amazing editor, Drucilla!

Apologies for the delay, life was deciding not to give me any peace and quiet for a while. This will probably be done in a chapter or two - but while I have your attention, you should know I'm planning to take a hiatus once this story is over. I feel like I've been making stories nonstop for several years, and as a result I'm feeling kinda drained, and my writing is suffering for it. I'd like to take a few months to recharge my batteries before I jump into my next project. It shouldn't be any longer than January/February.

Thanks for understanding and sticking through for this crazy ride.

Summary: As Mickey's parents come to terms with their sins, Mickey is tempted to create one of his own that may doom all of Japan.

Given how impressively tall and expansive the palace was, finding a spare room for Donald and Daisy was as easy as turning the corner. They thanked the Princess profusely for her kindness, but once they were alone, husband and wife could feel themselves molting from stress. They sat opposite from each other on the floor, backs to one another, their bodies heavy with the words Mickey had thrust at them. Donald had, at least, expected Mickey to return for his mother's sake, but he hadn't realized the depth of Mickey's anger and feelings of betrayal. Now he was starting to wonder if Mickey ever would come home, and what kind of life they'd have without him.

“Am I a bad mother?” Daisy suddenly asked, breaking the silence so sharply Donald felt his heart seize up.

“What?” At first, the question didn't register.

“Am I a bad mother?” Daisy repeated, glancing back at Donald. “To have my baby feel that way about me...he always did complain about me not letting him out and around, but I thought he was acting like all children did.” Had she been so concerned about Mickey's safety that she never gave a thought to his happiness? The comment about Mickey being little more than a stuffed doll had done a number on her soul – looking back, what had Mickey been allowed to do? If he never talked back, he really would have been nothing more than a toy for her to play with, and that was no attitude for a mother to have. “Maybe the gods were right to make sure I never had a child...”

“Don't.” Donald reached out behind him, fumbling to take Daisy's hand. “You're not a...” The immediate thought was to deny all of Daisy's negativity, reassure her that was she was perfect and could do no wrong just so she wouldn't be upset. Yet as he looked back on their lives together, he knew it wasn't fixing things. He always did her best to make her stop crying that it never occurred to her that he should just let her cry. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd shed tears himself, as such things were seen as weakness in a samurai. And who had told him that?

“Y'know,” he said again, eyes out on the nearby window, watching the sun crawl through the day. “My parents, Quackmore and Hortense Duck...they weren't perfect. I don't think a single day ever went by without them having an argument over something silly. Then they'd turn around and argue with me and Della, then me and Della would argue with each other. Despite all that, I wanted to be just like my father...a brave samurai who protected the people without a trace of fear. He's the one who trained me...he's the one who taught me how to bottle up everything I felt, so I could focus on my duties. If you don't show yourself how you feel, your enemies won't see it either.”

“That is incredibly unhealthy, honey.”

“I didn't say it worked! You know my temper better than anyone. But my father didn't hate me or resent me, he thought he was doing what was best. And I think that's what you were doing too. Maybe it wasn't the right thing to do...but you never did it with any anger or malice. You love Mickey, and he knows it. There's no such thing as a perfect parent. And a parent's role doesn't end just because your baby isn't a baby anymore.”

He could feel Daisy trembling in his grip, and though it pained his heart to hear his beloved cry, he didn't try to stop it. Slowly, gently, he moved around to hold her in his arms, allowing her to sob into his chest. Grief and relief were mixed together, and as she cried, Donald looked at his injured arm, the one that had made him retire early and settle down with his bride. Looking back, his father had never said a word about it – no lectures of disappointment, no mocking of his abilities. Even if Donald was no longer what Quackmore had expected, it didn't stop Quackmore from loving his son and treating him like a member of the family. Donald had always thought he'd be the same type of father when he and Daisy were trying for children. But as he watched Daisy's wailing turn into more calmed sniffles, he realized that no one really understood parenthood until they became a parent. It was like being in combat – for all the hopes, lectures and lessons, nothing could teach a person better than actual experience.

Daisy's sobs eventually turned into gentle breathes, and she wiped her face with her sleeve. “Is he... really happy here?”

“I'd ask him, but I doubt he's in the mood to talk. But... the fact he landed a job here says a lot, I think.” He supposed sharing a last name helped Mickey get his foot in the door, but to actually keep a person this small on the job? Mickey must have done something right, though he couldn't be sure what it was. “Maybe he just needs some space. When it's the right time, we'll talk to him and...I guess we'll just see where we go from there.” If Mickey wanted to stay, Donald wasn't going to force him otherwise, as much as he wanted to. Mickey was an adult, even if he didn't look it, and given how shoddily Donald had treated him, did he have any right to tell Mickey what to do and where to go?

“You know...” Daisy sat up straighter, looking her husband in the eye. “You said I love Mickey, and yes, I do, with all my heart. But I haven't heard you say you love him. Can we really talk to him about his place in the family if you can't say it?” She didn't want to voice her real fear – did Donald love Mickey at all?

It was a justified fear, as Donald's silence was deafening. His tongue moved in his mouth, trying to form an answer that his mind wouldn't make. Any parent should be able to say “Yes, I love my child” automatically, shouldn't they? But Donald had shunned Mickey for so long, treated him as a disappointment instead of a person, and refused to get to know him. Now he knew the boy, and Mickey was apparently capable of great things – a good heart, a clever mind, and a strong will. These were things to be proud of, things Donald was sure he hadn't passed on to him, Mickey had developed them all on his own. Come to think of it, Mickey had every right in the world to be the opposite, given his size – but instead of looking at the world with hate and sadness, he wore a smile and helped others despite his disadvantage.

There was shuffling at the doorway, and both ducks were momentarily startled, so wrapped up in their family drama that the outside world had ceased to exist. The noises got louder, and Daisy got to her feet, eager for a distraction. She slid open the door, and saw Clarabelle trying to lift a heavy box, having to stop every now and then due to its weight. She  saw Pete as well, but he'd merely grabbed something from the box and dashed off before Clarabelle could admonish him. “What are you doing?” Daisy asked, tilting her head.

Clarabelle put the box down and wiped sweat from her forehead. “Oh, don't mind me! The Princess asked me to get rid of some things, and I'm doing it gladly! We'll be using this as kindling, maybe cook some sweet potatoes. I tell you, it's so gratifying to see her growing up!”

Daisy managed to take a peek at the inside of the boxes, which contained dozens of illustrated books. “Why is she getting rid of them?”

“She told me she doesn't need them anymore.” Granted, Minnie had decided to keep the first volume, “for the memories”, then decided she wanted to keep the volume that had the love confession, and the one with the special color illustrations, and then Clarabelle decided to quickly get to work before Minnie changed her mind altogether. “You know, she's started smiling a lot more since your son came to the palace. He's... not exactly who I'd choose, but I can't say I don't like him. A happy Princess makes for a happy land.”

Daisy was both pleased at her son making a genuine friend and terrified at the idea of losing her baby to a wedding. She shook her head, trying to stay grounded in reality. “Well, I can't just sit here and do nothing. Please, allow me to help!”

Given how many boxes and books were left in the Princess' room, Clarabelle was more than happy to have any help. “Sure thing! Just head out to the garden when you've got your hands full!”

Daisy glanced back at her husband, knowing he wouldn't be much help lifting heavy objects due to his injury, yet she was reluctant to leave him alone. “Is that all right, Donald?”

Donald nodded slowly. “Go ahead. I've got some thinking to do.” With permission granted, Daisy followed Clarabelle to the Princess' room. On his own, Donald began to pull out the sword on his belt, the one that had been handed down to him from his father, from his father, back many generations. Mickey would never be able to use it, but Donald could barely use it now. He stared at his reflection, unsure of the future.

~*~

It'd been several hours since Mickey had gone on “patrol”, but it really wound up with him storming up and down the hallways, so deep in his anger he wouldn't have actually noticed if an Oni had really shown up to cause trouble. Anger at his parents for embarrassing him in front of the Princess and his friends, anger at them for trying to control his life, but also anger at himself for lashing out at them. Though he wouldn't take back what he said exactly, there probably had been gentler ways to go about it. He wanted to go back to Donald and Daisy and see if they were all right, but pride wouldn't allow him. After a while, he asked Pluto to stop so he could hop onto a windowsill and collect himself. His three-pronged headaches were making an annoying return.

He had always assumed that if he was bigger, that would automatically make things better with his family. His mother would stop babying him and Donald would accept him as a son. Yet now doubts were starting to creep in on his plan – Minnie and his friends liked Mickey exactly the way he was, so why couldn't his parents? Maybe talking to Minnie would make him feel better. Talking to her always seemed to make him feel better, and his tail began to swish around just by her mere presence in his mind. She liked him just the way he was, yes, that was why he didn't mind waiting for his size to change.

“There you are!” Pete's voice came from behind, surprising Mickey so much he almost fell out of the window. “I've been looking all over for you, kiddo!”

Mickey stood up, brushing himself down, the sun starting to set behind him. “What for? It's not about the Lucky Hammer again, is it?”

“Nooooo.” With every “o”, Mickey believed him less and less. “I just wanted to see how you were doing, pal! Seemed like you were having a rough time with your folks.”

It wasn't like Pete to care, but at the same time, Mickey did want to vent out his struggles. “They just don't understand what I've been going through. Why, they're the reason I came here in the first place. I can't go back with them when I haven't accomplished anything.”

“Right, right! Why, you've got a whole life here you've made for yourself!” Pete replied, hiding something behind his back. “You've become a real samurai, you've got those weird friends of yours, not to mention the Princess is fawning all over you.”

Mickey felt his face grow hot, and he sheepishly looked away, scratching the back of his head. “Aw, I – I dunno if I'd say fawning...” Though he did like the sound of it. No matter the problems with his parents, at least he could turn to her. He did have Pete to thank for the relationship upgrade, so maybe the big guy wasn't so bad, rude as he was.

“I sure would! Fawning's a pretty good word for what she does over you. Who cares that your old man never wanted you around? I say, good riddance to bad rubbish. The Princess, now she wants you! You're just the man she's been looking for!”

In hindsight, Mickey should have been terribly suspicious about this set-up, but Pete was saying what Mickey wanted to hear. Donald wouldn't accept him until he was taller, but Minnie wanted him here and now. He decided to bask in the compliments, beaming, crossing his arms and holding his head high. “Is that right? You really think so?”

“Of course I'm right!” Pete was smiling, but it wasn't a friendly smile. It was more like the way a snake sizes up its meal before going in for the gulp. “After all, you're exactly like the guy she actually wanted in the first place!”

Just as Pete had planned, the look of confusion struck instantly – Mickey blinked rapidly, unsure if he heard right. Even Pluto was cocking his head, making whining sounds of distrust. Pete let the sentence hang awkwardly in the air, allowing Mickey plenty of time to let his own doubts and self-loathing begin to rise up once more. “Wh...what are you talking about?”

“She didn't tell you?” Pete asked in mock surprise before whipping out the book he'd been hiding. “Funny, I thought she'd show you right away, seeing how much you look like her hero.” He licked his thumb, going through the pages until he found the right image. “Little lady's obsessed with this fake samurai, you can ask anyone who works here, they'll tell you the same! She wouldn't marry anyone unless they're just like him! And, wouldn't you know it...” He then turned the book around, showing Mickey a full color display of Sir Sakura – who for all the world looked exactly like Mickey, save for a few creative differences. “One day, he waltzes right into the palace! She must have thought it was a dream come true!”

Being as small as a peach pit for all his life, Mickey had no idea what a punch to the stomach really felt like – but perhaps this came close enough. He stared so deeply at the illustration that it was if he forgot how to blink. It was like looking into a bizarre mirror, and there was no mental loophole he could devise to get around it. Pete wouldn't tell a lie that would be easily corrected by asking around – who would? Mickey's shoulders began to sink, as did his heart. “She... she... she thinks I'm... this guy?” He asked softly, praying that Pete would tell him no, that somehow this was all made-up as part of a sadistic prank.

“Why else would she have you around?” Pete answered, his smile widening as he stabbed the knife deeper into Mickey's heart, twisting it around and watching Mickey's face crumbling in sheer agony. “Look at you, you're tiny! You couldn't protect a fly from a spider! You're a mama's boy who never learned how the world works! But, hey, you got a free ride to be Emperor, just because you look like a drawing! I say you hit the jackpot. No matter what you do, as long as you look like this guy, she'll want to be around you. Isn't that great?”

Now Mickey was afraid that if and when he finally did blink, he'd start to cry. Had Minnie only wanted him around because he looked like a man who didn't even exist? In a sick way, it was like his mother – who hadn't wanted him, but a little toy to coo and fuss over. He really did like talking with Minnie – had anything on her end been the truth? He wanted so desperately to believe it, but years of shame for being himself was stronger. Pluto whined, trying to reach up to push his nose in an affectionate nuzzle to Mickey's body, but Pete got in the way. “Hey, what's the long face for?” he asked as he tossed the book over his shoulder. “There's no use in getting upset over things you can't change. I mean, if there was some way to make people notice the real you, by taking away what made you different...”

And again, just as Pete had planned it, the nugget of an idea had been planted. Mickey began to lift his head up, the temptation hanging right above him. “Taking away what makes me different? What do you mean?”

“Well, just supposing...” Pete waved his hand, pretending this was all being made up on the spot. “If you were, I dunno, normal sized... people would have to get to know the real you, instead of making up assumptions about your size. Your mama wouldn't treat you like a doll, your daddy might call you his son, and who knows, maybe the Princess would actually see you, instead of someone the size of a page.” With the bait set, now it was only a matter of waiting.

Mickey's fists clenched up. Part of him knew exactly what Pete was saying, and what Pete was planning. It was cruel and manipulative – and it was working. He never asked to be this size, and yet all his life the only people he knew had forced their own ideas onto him. Now the girl he loved was doing the same. What was so wrong with being Mickey? Why couldn't they even attempt to see him? He swallowed hard, his throat feeling tight. “I... she... I promised Minnie... the Lucky Hammer not supposed to be used until we're married. And she promised her father... not to tell anyone where it was except for her husband.”

“But can you really be called her husband if she doesn't like you, but a made-up version of you?” Pete's smile hadn't left his face once. He enjoyed having painful power over people, and he missed being able to do this on the daily to his minions. Soon, that would all change, and he'd have an entire land of minions to boss around. In this moment, he felt extremely powerful. “In that case, I'd say she already broke her promise to her old man. Only fair for you to break it too. Whaddya say? Why don't you change your future, instead of waiting around for it?”

On this end, Mickey felt powerless. Save for breaking this bond of trust, there was nothing he could do to change his parent's mind or prove himself to Minnie. Would it really be so bad to be normal? He was only going to use it once. The headache was now so strong, he could feel them as if they were ready to stab through his skin, which made have made his anger and resentment worse. He exhaled deeply, and then commanded his dog, “Pluto, c'mere.”

Pluto whined, not liking where this was going, but he obediently pushed his head in so Mickey could climb on. “We're going to the Princess' room.”

“It's in her room?” Pete repeated, the smug smile finally taken off his face. Naturally, the one place a man wouldn't be allowed to enter! “Why that rotten little...” he grumbled a series of expletives that thankfully Mickey was too far away to hear. He then followed after Pluto quickly, shoving down his anger into his gut. There was no time to be angry – he had to make sure the Princess wasn't actually in her room. Gods forbid if she and Mickey actually had a healthy conversation to settle things, that would ruin the whole plan!

Coincidence after coincidence aided Pete – Minnie hadn't wanted her servants to do all the work (nor get rid of her favorite volumes) so she wound up trying to lug boxes with the rest of them. Pete, Pluto and Mickey poked their heads around the corner to see Minnie, Panchito and Jose – the birds doing their absolute best not to look at each other – lugging more boxes out into the hallway. No doubt they would all return for more, so they only had one chance to pull this off. They waited until they could no longer see Minnie, before tip-toeing to the room and carefully sliding the door open, not wanting to make a peep.

The sight of all those books that were still around made Mickey's stomach queasy – without realizing she'd gotten rid of most of them. Combined with the guilt of the promise being broken, and being in a girl's room without permission, it was taking every ounce of strength for Mickey not to upchuck.

“Where is it, where is it, where is it?” Pete hissed in a whisper – the closer he was getting to his goal, the more impatient he became.

Mickey slid off of Pluto's head, bouncing once on the floor before walking upright. “She said it's right... here.” He headed for the most obvious place in the room where any young girl would hide something important, a place so obvious that most people would have dismissed the idea since it was too obvious.

Which was why Mickey was scooting right under Minnie's bed.

Pete stared at the Princess' bed, covered in lace and satin and books, and slapped both of his hands to his face. It kept him from screaming swears to high heaven, and he thought that if this was the Emperor's idea, he wished the old man would come back to life so Pete could personally kill him. He pulled his face down hard, teeth gnashing, trying to control himself again. He was so close, he couldn't blow it now just because the Emperor was perhaps the dumbest person who had ever lived – or who had been such an overbearing parent that he thought keeping a powerful object underneath his daughter's bed would keep her from marrying ill suitors. Either way, he never thought he'd hate a corpse so much.

Still, there was only so much of his temper he could control, and instead of waiting for Mickey to pull out the Lucky Hammer, he reached over and grabbed the edge of the bed with one hand, leaning it over to one side with a crrrreaaaak. Mickey jumped a bit at this display of strength, but in a funny way found it comforting – Pete was already so big and strong, so he'd have no use for the Lucky Hammer himself, right? Surely he'd just come along for moral support in case Mickey chickened out.

As for the hammer itself?

It was certainly large, the head being wider and bigger than the handle, all of it golden and sparkling. Decorative wooden flames had been placed on both sides, along with a snake-like pattern curling around the hammer. At first Mickey thought the candles in the room were giving the Lucky Hammer wonderful glow, but upon closer inspection, the glow was coming from the hammer itself. It pulsated almost like a human heart, but in a soft and warm way, as if trying to assure all around that everything was okay. Just being near the divine weapon made Mickey feel a little light-headed, but he shook the feeling away with one hard nod of his head. Even though the Hammer obviously hadn't been touched in ages, there wasn't any trace of dust, rust or any sign that time had passed. It was as immortal as the gods, and Mickey momentarily felt very unworthy of it. Slowly, delicately, he walked toward the hammer, and lightly touched the handle.

He felt a pleasant spark ride through his hand, like a first kiss or the thrill of a fought victory. His heart began to beat harder than before, but through all this excitement, one important question remained. “How do I use it?” He asked Pete, his fingers twitching nervously. Mickey couldn't even make his fingers reach all around the handle, it was bigger than he was, like many things in life. The stories he heard merely said the Lucky Hammer made things bigger or smaller – how had never come up. What an awful time to realize such a thing! “Hm... well, hammers are usually for hitting things... am I supposed to hit myself with it?” Aside from being physically impossible, that would hurt like the dickens.

“All you have to do is shake it three times to change your size,” said Pete rather matter-of-factly.

“Oh, that's a relief.” Similarly, it took Mickey three seconds to realize another issue. “Wait, why do you know that?”

“You think I'd try stealing it for so long without making sure I knew how to use it?” Again, he enjoyed the dawning look of horrified realization on Mickey's face, and enjoyed it further when he reached down to yank the Lucky Hammer in his hands. “Man, oh man, I was sick of leaving those smoke messages to all those idiots across Japan. I heard some of them even thought about laying down their arms and giving up to live peacefully! They'll be the first ones I get rid of under my new rule!”

Pluto began to growl, standing in front of his gobsmacked master. Mickey began to shake, hoping any second now he'd wake up from this nightmare. “P-Pete... that was you, every night? Setting those fires, climbing up the palace? You were sending messages? To who?” Yet even as he asked, he had a terrible feeling he already knew, and that his selfishness had sealed the fate of Japan.

“Where are my manners?” Pete answered with a loud laugh, now no longer caring who heard him. He tossed the bed into a corner, and it crashed so hard it split in two, sending mountains of books to the floor. Mickey yelped, and Pluto grabbed him with his teeth, hoisting him onto his back before his master could be flattened. “I never introduced my real self, did I? But since you did me the great favor of getting me the Lucky Hammer, I think I owe you at least that!” He reached up to his head, and began to yank off his helmet. “I can finally take this cruddy thing off... you have any idea what it feels like to wear a helmet for years, as you sleep and bathe?” But he had a good reason why he never took it off – once it popped off, it revealed two garish horns sticking out of his forehead.

“Y-Y-You're an Oni!” Mickey sputtered, trying to pull out his needle sword, the makeshift weapon almost falling out of his hands due to his nerves.

“I ain't no ordinary Oni!” Pete shook the hammer once. “You're looking at the greatest, strongest, mightiest Oni there ever was!” He shook it twice.

“My pal, Mickey... I am THE ONI KING!”

With one last shake, Pete took on the same golden glow as the hammer, yellow and green mist encircling his entire body. He began to laugh, a horrendously strong belly laugh that grew louder as he grew taller – taller – taller – not stopping as his head hit the ceiling, not as his shoulders began destroying rooftops, as his elbows broke windows. Pluto ran as fast as he could as the bedroom began to rip apart all around them, the screams of scared servants echoing all across the dying palace. Mickey was afraid to even glance behind him to see the destruction Pete was leaving by him merely standing there, his laughter now reaching all across the kingdom, villagers rushing out of their homes as they felt the very earth shake.

Outside, the trees from the gardens began to topple over, the fence bending before breaking off and shooting off dangerous splinters across the air. Everyone within the palace had managed to make it out, although many were suffering from wounds and marks from the collapsing rooms. Donald held onto his wife, Clarabelle fainted into Goofy's arms, and the remaining samurai surrounded the devastated Princess, who watched Pete continue to grow, her mouth open but no words leaving her. Within seconds, the sun was blocked out, Pete's shadow encasing the entire kingdom in darkness.

And there Mickey stood, among his friends and family, watching Pete - the Oni King - take in his glory, feeling smaller than ever before.

[jaybug-jabbers]

Bug Run 7: Alola, Bug Friends

I’ve done bug runs for six generations of pokemon games by now. I wasn’t going to leave gen 7 out of the fun. However, it does mean a little tweaking of my usual rules. New bug pokemon in this game are fairly rare and spread wide apart. So, to pick up some of the slack, I’m also going to allow bugs that aren’t new to gen 7 to fill out my team.

Despite the relative rarity of new bugs in gen 7, there are some really, really cool ones. So it’s well worth spending more time with these fellahs and going on our island trials with our new insect allies.

Now, keep in mind this is a pretty long post that goes into details on the major battles of the game. If that’s not your cup of tea, I suggest checking out the summary post instead that I’ll be doing soon. But if you enjoy reading the full story, then this is for you!

So grab your shades and your sunblock, and let’s go enjoy a tropical paradise, complete with the mugginess and mosquitoes!

Rules of the Bug Run

1.) The team must be bug types only, and only bugs found in Alola.

2.) No trainer items used during battle (unless the foe uses them first, and then you may only match the items one-for-one). Held items are allowed.

3.) No over-levelling. Pokemon should be at roughly normal levels for a given area and not be at a higher level than the maximum-levelled pokemon in a major trainer’s team.

Pretty simple, eh? Well, maybe. After doing a lot of these runs, I’ve often found the very start of the game can be one of the hardest moments. The start is when you have access to the fewest moves, almost no items and TMs, and there just isn’t much room for strategy if you run into trouble. Let’s see if we can overcome the first hurdles.

Early Gatekeepers

At the start of the game, the grass right beside your house offers four bug types: Grubbin, Ledyba, Caterpie and Spinarak. I chose to grab two of those, Grubbin (Gaz) and Ledyba (Protoman).

The first major battle, against Hau during the festival, is difficult but very possible for Grubbin to solo: Mud-Slap against the Pichu, hope you don’t get Tail Whipped too many times or, if you get paralyzed by Thundershock, that you don’t lose too many turns to paralysis– all of this so you can survive the fight against his starter (in this case, Popplio).

The first true difficulty was the teacher at the Trainer School, who has a Litten if you chose Rowlet as your starter. I had to equip both my pokes with an Oran berry, and then just barely squeaked by the battle with my two pokemon.

However, the next difficulty was fighting Ilima. With my Grubbin and Ledyba at level 11, I just couldn’t make it by Yungoos and Ember-weilding Smeargle. I thought hard about strats and decided to reset the game.

Sure, I could have added more pokemon to my team, but I wanted to see how well I could do with just two. So I picked Grubbin and Ledyba again– this time with better natures. This Grubbin was Brave and the Ledyba was Serious (a neutral nature). Now of course, when Grubbin later evolves, an Attack-boosting nature won’t do her much good. But in the early game, she’s a physical attacker and those extra points can make a big difference.

I also chose Litten as my starter. This allowed me to pass the teacher fight at the trainer school (Popplio) without using the Oran berries. Thus, I could face Ilima with both of my pokemon holding berries. My Ledyba could Swift Yungoos almost to death (even after an annoying potion) but went down hard after a Tackle following all those Leers. Grubbin finished the Yungoos off and then managed to solo the Smeargle: get several Mud-Slaps off, and with the help of one potion (since Ilima had used one earlier) and the berry, Grubbin could just manage to Bite the dog to death.

The fight proved the importance of very tiny factors turning the tide in my favor, such as pokemon natures and berries. This is especially important early game when there just isn’t a lot of options for strategy. Again, I could have just powered through with a team of four, but that seemed to run counter to the spirit of the challenge run. Perhaps I was just being stubborn. In any case, after passing Ilima’s gatekeeping, I was finally free to reach route 2 and add the third member to my team: Cutiefly (Ms. Sidle).

The remainder of Melee island was rather trivial. Cutiefly’s excellent speed and strong special attack made it essential on the team– especially when it picks up relatively high BP moves pretty quickly. The first totem pokemon was a piece of cake, and the Grand Trial was easy with Cutiefly’s Draining Kiss. Ledyba’s Swift was also very nice for Makuhita spamming Sand Attack.

Akala’s Trifecta

Arriving at Akala, I eventually decided to add a fourth teammember before facing Hau, since he had four partymembers. I trained up a Spinarak (Dipper) and sallied forth. Dartrix was slowly and patiently worn down with Ledyba (via screens and swifts and roosts), who eventually prevailed. Noibat still went down like a rock to a single Draining Kiss. Honestly, the only one on his team to give a little trouble was Dartrix.

At this point, Cutiefly and Ledyba had been the MVPs. Cutiefly’s speed and offensive prowess mowed through most foes. However, she is a delicate little thing that cannot really take hits, so Ledyba held all the tanking power. While Ledyba’s physical defense is poor, Reflect and Roost helped mitigate some of that. And Ledyba, of course, was a good spec. def. tank when compared to its kin. While Ledyba’s offensive ability is practically nil, at this point in the game, its move Swift was still very viable and useful. Ignoring all the Growls and Baby Doll Eyes and various attack drops, as well as all the Sand Attacks and other such issues, Ledyba had the bulk to get off enough swifts for victory. The two basically carried Grubbin; the poor little squishy babe just couldn’t do much. However, that changed when Grubbin finally evolved. Just in time for the water trial, too!

With Charjabug on our side, all it took was a couple Sparks to take out the  Araquanid totem. Cutiefly finished off the ally.

After the totem’s defeat, I caught a Dewpider and put Spinarak on the bench for the time being. It didn’t take long to train Dewpider up and evolve into Araquanid. This would end up pretty important for the next trial; the fire trial.

My Araquanid, Neptune, was quite the beast, able to solo the totem and its ally, surviving on 5 HP even while poisoned. Obviously, the water Z-move helped seal the deal.

For the last Akala trial, grass, it took a couple tries to figure out the best strat. I finally settled on one that took advantage of Gaz’s new tanking abilities. After my recently-evolved Ledian provided dual screen support and a little chip damage, and I gave Gaz a Sitrus berry, Gaz could tank hits from Lurantis and its ally long enough to bug bite ‘em both to death.

Not long after our grass trial, my Cutiefly Ms. Sidle evolved and we added yet a new team member: Wimpod (Luciel). We then sped toward the grand trial of this island– a dreaded rock team. But it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I had expected. Gaz took Anorith out with 2 Acrobatics. Ms. Sidle took Lileep out with her Pollen Puff. And Neptune could Z-Bubble Beam the Lycanroc to doom. We won the game of pokemon rock, paper scissors, because bug beats everything.~

Going Electric in Ula’ula

Truth be told, it wasn’t until the third island, Ula’ula, that things started getting a little sticky. The electric trial was a miserable affair. Togedemaru, with high spec. d. and totem-buffed defense, Spiky Shield, a million resistences, a Sitrus berry and an ally that laid down Stealth Rock (a terror for bug teams) and Tailwinds (so even Scary Face couldn’t help me), it was just a pain in the ass. Did I mention half my team was weak to electric?

I placed Dipper the Spinarak back on the team and trained him up; I also trained the team up to level 33, went around and collected some TMs, and pondered some options. After trying a number of ideas, I finally prevailed. What helped was this: teaching Reflect to Ms. Sidle (the only member to naturally outspeed the totem) so she could get that up first turn and then toss a paralysis onto the ally for good measure and even some chip damage on the totem before going down. Next, teaching Brick Break to Golisopod; he could get it off before dying to Zing Zap since the screen was up. He got a lucky critical hit and did loads of damage and triggered the Sitrus berry. Next, I brought Neptune in, set up Aqua Ring to let the totem Spiky Shield (it tends to do this when you’re holding a Z-crystal), and then popped the z-move. It took the totem out and Neptune could finish off the ally, too.

It was a relief to get the fight out of the way. As a reward for all my suffering through the electric trial, up next was my favorite boy. It was a joy to fight Guzma at long last, defeating his Golisopod with my own. And soon after, I could finally evolve the last member of my team!

I should mention that I kept Gaz at level 30 and didn’t use her during my electric trial because I really needed to get Bug Buzz at level 31 when she evolved. So I had no choice but to wait until after the trial when I could finally reach Blush Mountain. It was kind of a pain not being able to use her during the trial (and Guzma’s first battle– both his pokes weak to electric. Well, I used Gaz while fighting him but carefully arranged it so she would faint and not get exp) but at least it wasn’t a longer wait.

With my starter now fully evolved, and my team rounded out to a full six, we were sailing pretty smoothly now. At this point, my crucial ally Ledian was staring to lag behind everyone else. Protoman had no offensive presence, of course, and things were starting to outspeed him enough now that he couldn’t even get his screens off anymore. Even Ariados was doing okay for himself; with the priority moves (Shadow Sneak and Sucker Punch) to make up for his crap speed and Swords Dance to make up for middling attack, he could manage to scrape by. However, time would tell how things would pan out in the long run. Perhaps it was just a rough patch for the Johto pair.

Dark, Darker, and Darker Still

The spooky ghost trial was up next, but we took it in stride with enormous ease. Starting off with support from the Johto duo, Dipper used Scary Face– somehow spooking the king of spooks, Mimikyu– and broke the disguise with a Shadow Sneak. Protoman got up a Reflect and heroically took the Curse from the ally before going down. Then I just sort of hacked away with Golisopod’s Shadow Claw. I finished it off with flare with Gaz’s z-powered zapping.

We were then led into the dark back allies of Po Town, one of my favorite parts of the game. We find big bad Guzma moping in his room and challenge him to a bug DUEL.

Guzma is a man who likes to hit hard right away. He always opens with his ace. However, don’t be tempted to do the same. If I used up my Vikavolt on his ace, well, I’d face problems later. So instead, I opened with Protoman and got up the usual Reflect. Truth be told, I had intended Protoman to simply be First Impression fodder, but for some reason that move never came. Next in was Ms. Sidle, who halved Golisopod’s health with her buzzing, getting him into Emergency Exit range. Guzma sent in Masquerain next. At full health, my Vikavolt could survive a hit and use its Z-move. Golisopod was back in, poor Ariados was next for First Impression fodder, and Sidle could finish the water bug off. Finally, Pinsir was the last; I beat him down with my own Golisopod and Neptune. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but it got the job done. My team was a little under-levelled compared to Guzma’s, but it was a satisfying fight.

Angry at losing the BUG DUEL, Guzma storms out of his own house and I pilfer one of his bug z-crystals like a common crook. And sit in his chair, because who wouldn’t?

After this, Gladion drops by and rambles about Nebby and we’re supposed to follow him to the weird Aether Paradise island. Although the island grand kahuna challenges us to a quick match on the docks before we go. The match was, as you might guess, incredibly easy for my team, so we finish up fast and then ship out.

Our task, of course, is to expose the dark underbelly of Aether Paradise. It’s a long trawl through the facility, especially since I arrived admittedly rather under-levelled for the place, so I have to take my time with the battles. Slowly but surely, though, we claw our way through. All through the bottom labs, through the weird man in the green glasses, through all the Aether employees and Skull grunts, until finally we reach ya boy Guzma again.

Ya boy … has been training. And he’s added a Vikavolt to his team. I get my ass handed to me. Honestly, though, I’m thrilled he’s not a pushover. And it revealed some crucial flaws in my team:

(1) I already knew this but yes, my team is very weak to electric.

(2) Holy shit my team is SLOW. Golisopod: base 40, Ariados: 40, Araquanid: 42, Vikavolt: 43. Only Ribombee is fast (124) and Ledian is fair (85). I knew Alolan pokemon tend to be grossly slow, but this was a painful reminder.

(3) Some of my pokes had movesets that didn’t really make full use of their potential.

So, I had to do some rethinking. First of all, I had to let go of Ledian’s dual STAB. It didn’t make sense. He was a support pokemon, not a fighter. I’d keep one attacking move because he still needs to grind, but for now, I removed Bug Buzz.

Second of all, Swords Dance on Ariados was no longer working. For grinding, yes, but not for serious fights. He just could not survive long enough to use it. So, I give him a new tactic: Toxic, Protect, and Sucker Punch. He would tox stall and throw some sucker punches in there in between stalling. He also had Black Sludge to help with the stalling (he’d always been holding it– I stole some sludge from a Grimer way back at the start of the game). He was hardly a tank or an ideal pokemon for stall, but it seemd a viable option until he picked up some of his late-game moves.

Third, Neptune was at an awkward place right now. Still limping by with Bubble Beam, and with an odd mix of moves because I had yet to decide what I wanted to focus on with him. I thought about it for a while, but ultimately got bored and decided I’d figure out Neptune later. For now I wanted to give the fight another go.

First up, I had Protoman get up his Reflect and U-turn out of there into Gaz. Gaz did take Guzma’s Golisopod out, though unfortunately only after heavy damage. Next up was Pinsir. I sent out my own Golisopod to deal with it. The plan was to use my newly acquired Rock Slide. I opened with a First Impression which did a nice, entire 50% of Pinsir’s health, but things go less nice from there. Pinsir’s Stone Edge lands and my Rock Slide misses. Because my Rock Slide missed the last battle, I am pretty salty. And Pinsir’s second Stone Edge also lands. Ffs. Luciel goes down before he can finish things. (He was holding a Sitrus berry to stave off Emergency Exit.) Ms. Sidle has to finish off the Pinsir instead.

Ok, it would be rough without Golisopod, but we were still in this fight. Guzma sends out Vikavolt next. I use Protoman to Light Screen and then faint. Then I send out Dipper. To my surprise, Dipper’s new strats work great and he’s able to solo the Vikavolt.

Finally, Masquerain, whose speed and Air Slash are terrifying. My idea is to paralyze it with Ribombee and then HOPE that is enough for Gaz to outspeed. But it is not. Gaz had too much damage done earlier from Golisopod and simply goes down. It was thus all down to Neptune. He’s able to live one Air Slash– not well, but he can– and doesn’t flinch, so he gets his z-Bubble Beam off. It does a lot, but it’s just not enough to take Masquerain out.

Obviously, the next Air Slash will kill, so I assume it’s over. But then, it isn’t. Because I forgot Air Slash has a 5% chance of missing. The damn thing misses and I can finish it off with a Bubble Beam.

I’m happy to call that a win, because it seems fair after my Rock Slide miss.

Guzma steps aside to let us by, but first calls me out for forgetting to tell my mom I was going on a trip. Oopsies.

A Whole New World

After visiting my poor mother and doing a little extra training, I came back to battle Lusamine. I was a tad concerned about Clefable, as Ariados, supposedly my fairy killer, wasn’t yet up for the task, in my opinion. So I tutored Iron Head onto Luciel. While I was wandering, I also picked up a Light Clay for Ledian.

After that, the battle with Lusamine actually went quite well. I opened with Protoman, got up the Light Screen, switched to Luciel, and Iron Headed away. With Sitrus berry, he could stay in long enough to get the job done.

Next up I planned on tox stalling the Lopunny, but when I put Dipper in I realized I had forgotten to put Protect back on him. Whoops. My plan B was to punch at it a lot with Luciel, and when Emergency Exit activated I finished the job with Sidle.

Lilligant went down easily to Vikavolt’s specs-powered Bug Buzz, although I was surprised at how much damage a Petal Dance did to Gaz. Sheesh. Milotic was next, but Gaz was locked into Bug Buzz, so I sent out Neptune. Apparently Milotic couldn’t do much to Neptune but spam Dragon Pulse. So Neptune just spammed Lunge to whittle Milotic down and eventually came out on top.

The last was Bewear. I sent out Protoman originally with just the intent of getting a Reflect up, but it turned out Protoman could solo Bewear with just his Air Slash. He got a couple flinches, which helped him survive long enough to win. I had Sidle waiting in the wings in case this failed, but it was surprisingly nice to have Protoman do it all himself.

And that was it for Lusamine.

After she hops into the portal (followed by Guzma), the next major battle really isn’t until the dragon trial on Poni island. I’m afraid that was a pretty dull battle; I just toxiced the Kommo-o and stalled a little before clearing out the ally with Ms. Sidle. Considering the Roseli berry the Kommo-o held, this was just the simplest way to take care of things.

Necrozma’s first form was easy enough for my team to defeat as well, especially for Neptune. It wasn’t until we stepped into the wormhole ourselves and reached super uber weird space and battled Ultra Necrozma that things were a little trickier. The thing was 10 levels higher then us and had insane stats. Fortunately, some chap had given me a focus sash at some point, so Dipper could still get a toxic off.

Luciel delivered the final blow.

Boss Rush

When we return from saving the universe and all that nonsense, Mina still wants us to complete one last trial, which she explains will be a boss rush. Eh, ok. I mean, I guess that’s cool.

Most were a piece of cake. Kiawe, being Fire type, is somewhat noteworthy for a bug team to face. I had Neptune use Reflect and then z-Bubble Beam, but it didn’t quuuuuite kill Arcanine. It went down to recoil after clearing out poor Dipper, though. Gaz tanked a Brave Bird and took out the Talonflame, and the Marowak was easy pickings for Luciel. The surprise ambush by Kiawe’s friend was kind of annoying, but Neptune was able to finish things.

Electric type battles are an old nemesis for my bug runs, but this one wasn’t bad. Neptune almost one-shot the Golem (but not quite) and Dipper finished it off with Sucker Punch. In the process, he FINALLY learned Poison Jab. It’s ridiculous how long it takes for him to get a good poison STAB. Anyway, after a nice Light Screen Gaz could finish off the Magnezone with Dig.

Everyone else was simple enough. I love how a couple didn’t even bother to fight and were just sort of, “Whatever, take the flower petal, I can’t be arsed right now.” The fairy totem was likewise simple enough to take down. Ribombee is a sweetheart, but even with Quiver Dance she isn’t exactly difficult to deal with.

With our final trials and tribulations out of the way, we moved on to climbing the icy slopes to the new Elites.

But first, Gladion ambushed us for a final smackdown.

I had Ledian as my lead at the time, so the poor fellow just died to speedy Crobat. Fortunately, Gaz could survive a hit and retaliate. Next in, I was nervous of Lucario, so I sent out Neptune to z-Bubble Beam it to death. Unfortunately the damned thing was Zoroark. It’s funny how often I fall for that trick. The Zoroark used its own Z-move and killed Neptune. D:

Silvally was next, and I looked at its color and assumed ice. I suppose it made sense to me since it was hailing, so why not match to the environment? Dipper toxiced it and Sucker Punched it to soften it up, and then sent out a weakened Gaz to basically just faint and rack up more toxic damage. It’s not as though Gaz is outspeeding anything. Then I sent out Ribombee to finish things off. Finally, Lucario (the real one) was here, and Ribombee went down. It was all down to Luciel. Thankfully, Lucario wasn’t so scary after all. It just used Aura Spheres on me. I took it out with no problems.

After clearing Gladion aside, we climbed the mountain and did a little training. Stocking up on items and enjoying hot tapu coccas in the last Pokecenter, we braced ourselves for the final push.

Elite Four

The Elite Four was not too frightening a prospect for my team. The most difficult two would be Rock and Flying, of course; but having already faced Olivia’s Rock team, I wasn’t as worried about that one. The scariest to me seemed to be Flying.

Kahili

Kahili was indeed a difficult opponent I had to be very precise with. I opened with my Vikavolt, which was able to tank a Brave Bird from the powerful Braviary. Truth be told, I intended to stick a Coba berry on Gaz, but I mixed up the names and put a Colbur berry instead. Oooops. Fortunately, Gaz can tank like a beast, and Braviary went down to the thunderbolt.

Kahili sent out Mandibuzz next, which was a fine opportunity to set up a Tailwind with Ms. Sidle. I had, in fact, carefully tutored this move onto Ribombee for the occasion. Mandibuzz loves to open with Flatter, but I had Sidle hold a Lum berry so she could get a Dazzling Gleam off guaranteed . Sadly, it didn’t kill– Ribombee never can actually get the kill when she attacks, it seems. She goes down to a Brave Bird. No matter! I had Gaz and Thunderbolt, with Tailwind at my back! Unfortunately, Kahili has Full Restores. I don’t quite take the healed Mandibuzz out with one t-bolt, but before I can finish it, Kahili oddly switches out into Oricoro. I have no idea why, but it does down to a single Thunderbolt, and then she switches Mandibuzz back in and I finish that off too. Tailwind peters out, and Toucannon is up next.

Now, I know Toucannon is the z-crystal holder, so I sent out Dipper and Protect on my first turn. I know that generally speaking the Elites like to use their z-move first thing when they get their poke in. Dipper survives the hit, barely; then I use Toxic. Of course I don’t expect Dipper to outspeed, but I do expect Toucannon to use Beak Blast, a two-part flying move signature to the species. It does so and I get the Toxic off before dying. Next I put Protoman in.

Unfortunately for me, Kahili then Full Restores again, making my poison useless. But Dipper’s sacrifice was not for naught. It gave Protoman the chance to Reflect. On the following turn, Protoman also gets to use Tailwind before dying to Beak Blast. After these setups, I get Gaz in to take out Toucannon.

The final of the foe’s team is Hawlucha. Gaz is in red health by now, and as it turns out, Hawlucha outspeeds despite the Tailwind. However, it goes for a Throat Chop for some reason, which Gaz resists– it only did a few HP of damage. We thunderbolt and finish the team off.

Olivia

Our second-hardest Elite, Olivia didn’t give us much trouble. I did my typical opening with Protoman to get up a screen (Reflect) before dying to some horrible rock move. Then I get my heavy hitters out– in this case, Neptune– and start blasting away with Liquidation. Down goes Armaldo. Z-Liquidation on Gigalith. Down goes Gigalith. Olivia sends out her ace, Lycanroc, so I put poor old Dipper out there as z-move bait again. He doesn’t live long. Neptune then comes in to take care of the Lycanroc too. Probopass means I switch things up a little, setting up Tailwind and then using Dig with Gaz to kill it off. The final, a Cradily, is simple for Luciel to take out.

Molayne

The steel Elite had the potential to be very scary, but we did surprisingly well against him. Gaz could open and take out Klefki with a few thunderbolts. This was nice because she was immune to the Thunder Wave the darn thing loved to spam. He sent out Dugtrio next, which was easy for Liquidation to demolish. Magnezone faced off against Gaz. I knew it died to two Digs, but unfortunately, Gaz was a little to weakened from Klefki, and went down to a second Tri Attack. It left the foe at at an awkward piece of ¼ health that was hard to cleanly take out, so I used Dipper to Sucker Punch it a couple times before sending out Luciel to First Impression and finish it off. Next, Bisharp goes down to Neptune’s Z-Liquidation, and Metagross is our last foe. Luciel uses First Impression and Liquidation to help chip it down. After using up his berry on the first turn he emergency exits out of there on the second turn, and Sidle gets off a Bug Buzz to contribute to the chipping. It does a nice chunk, but she goes down too. Luciel, back in, once again gets off a Second Impression, and after a hit ends up on 3 HP. Lucky for us, I am obsessed with keeping multiple priority moves and Luciel also has Sucker Punch, and he could finish off the Metagross.

Acerola

By far the easiest of the Elites, Acerola was a pretty quick mop-up. Protoman gets up screens and faints, Luciel takes out the Bannette (after it annoyingly potions up). Froslass is next, and I regretfully send out Dipper once more to just take one for the team– this time while I potion Luciel back up. Dipper does, however, manage to do a huge chunk to Froslass with a Sucker Punch before going down. Luciel finishes it off. Pallosand takes a big hit with Liquidation but it boosts its defense a bunch. As Luciel Emergency Exits out of there I send in the big guns and use Neptune’s Z-Liquidation. It works great. Dhelmise acutally falls quickly to a couple Bug Buzzes from Ms. Sidle (she survives the Slams), which is nice, because she rarely gets a kill all on her own. Finally, Drifblim goes down to Gaz’s thunderbolt.

Hau

Of course, it would not be a pokemon game if they made you the champ after defeating the Elite Four. There’s always at least one more fight to clear. In this case, it’s your old buddy Hau. After previewing his team, I formulated a rough plan and headed in, feeling wary.

Hau opens with Alolan Raichu. Fortunately for bug trainers of Alola, this is a boon. Luciel’s First Impression takes it out cold. At least that’s one out of the way.

Next up was a pokemon I had only a shaky plan for, Crabominable. This horrible-looking evolution of Crabrawler has the spooky Stone Edge and a terrifying Attack to back it up. This was also basically Protoman’s only chance to get a screen up, so I had him Reflect. We get a lucky Stone Edge miss so I also Tailwind before he goes down. Then, to my great fortune, Neptune can kill clean with a z-Liquidation.

Noivern up next, a foe that’s always gone down neatly to Ms. Sidle’s Dazzling Gleam. Somehow I suspected this time, it wouldn’t quite do it– and I was right. I finish off with Luciel’s Iron Head after taking a Super Fang to the face.

Tauros is out next, a relatively straightforward pokemon. I plan on poison-stalling this one and send out Dipper. It seems to work great– I Toxic, protect, the Reflect is helping a lot in surviving Double Edges, I’m about to finish things off and deliver the final blow … and then Hau Full Restores.

This one stung, people. Poor Dipper, the punching-bag of the team, was about to finally land a rightfully earned kill of his own, and Hau takes it away with his cheap item usage. Reflect runs out after this, to rub salt in the wound. Without Reflect up and on low health, I can’t repeat Dipper’s strat. So I have to let Dipper fall valiantly once again as I potion up Luciel. Then my Golisopod finishes off the bull.

Decidueye is out next. This is the z-crystal holder. I have three pokemon left: Neptune, Luciel, and Gaz. It really is about choosing who dies to a z-move at this point. I decide Neptune is the least crucial for defeating Hau’s final two pokemon. Neptune falls to the grass z-move.

Then Luciel can come in and take a big chunk with his First Impression before his Emergency Exit triggers and kicks him back out. Gaz thus finishes up with her Bug Buzz. She fortunately doesn’t take much damage from Decidueye’s Spirit Shackle.

Finally, this leaves Hau’s Vaporeon. I get a First Impression off first, as usual, which takes Vap down to around half health. Golisopod survives a Hydro Pump and lives on a few precious HP, and I’m excited about getting a Sucker Punch, but unfortunately Vaporeon has Quick Attack. Ah well.

My last pokemon was Gaz, at around half health. It seemed fitting it should all come down to my starter. It really was a question of whether she’d survive the incoming Hydro Pump before she could Thunderbolt, because of course Arceus knows she wasn’t outspeeding anybody.

I’m still not sure if she would have survived that hit, but I like to think she would have. At the time, I had faith she would. She had surprised me a lot with tanking hits and pulling through, after all. In the end, Hydro Pump missed, and she could Thunderbolt cleanly.

And Gaz took the championship for us all.

Could we finally rest now, having been named the Alolan Champions? Or was there still something left to do?

… stay tuned to find out! :D

This is a repost on a new blog. The original post was on Aug 13, 2019.

[dubredofanfics]

Hit n Run [BONGLENI]

XXVIII. Deception

"Bongets." Martin greeted him upon entering his office the next day. "Cancelled yung meeting mamayang ten. Gusto mo sumama saamin ni Ariella for coffee, early lunch or late breakfast." He chuckled.

"Sama mo si Leni para double date." He suggested, Bongbong looked at him coldly.

"Uy, okay ka lang?" He asked upon seeing him look pale and stressed. Bongbong remained silent. He tried to figure out to himself what could his problem be. He looked around and recalled that he haven't seen Leni around yet.

"Bong." He called his attention. "Wala na kami ni Leni." He confessed compendiously making Martin dumbfounded and a bit worried.

"Ah... Uh... Okay ka lang?" He asked carefully. "No." Bongbong replied shortly. "Wala na kami, nasaktan ko siya. Paano ako magiging okay?" He wanted to break down but he ironically felt too numb with the pain.

—

Leni didn't show up in the office for the next days, Bongbong didn't bother to report her constant absences as he considered her reason — because she isn't ready to see him again or she just didn't want to see him yet. He patiently waited for a couple more days for her to come back to work.

Daphne entered Bongbong's office and handed her a document forwarded from the HR department. "Thanks." He uttered and asked her to leave. He started to read the document and felt destroyed as he realized that it was Leni's resignation request letter. He became half oblivious for a moment as it sank to him things are going.

She wants to go. She wants to completely part ways pero bakit ako nasasaktan? Ginusto ko naman 'to.

He signed the request even if it hurts him to let her go of the company. They have been working for several years together and he felt worried that he'll have a hard time to get used to not having her around anymore.

The HR department immediately hired a new executive assistant for Bongbong to replace Leni. Days passed by and Bongbong just felt how irreplaceable Leni was in his life but he can't do anything about it anymore.

—

Bongbong no longer bothered Leni as he felt like he didn't have the face to even reach out for her again. He tried to focus on the companies he is working at especially Rocos and he gave time to assist Louise with her appointments and pregnancy even if he didn't want it.

He was at her side during her ultrasound sessions. He paid for her bills and medications to keep their child healthy until her due date.

There was no more turning back and he decided to stop trying to think about Leni and focus on fixing his mess first.

Imee and Imelda felt sad about his ending with Leni. They liked them so much together, they never thought it would actually come to an end. A bad end.

They didn't have the courage to plead Leni to stay as they know that Bongbong's fault is hard to forgive.

—

Few months later, Louise gave birth to a baby boy. It was bothersome but Bongbong didn't feel much connection with the child but he had no choice but to accept it.

I've thought of having a baby boy... But it's with Leni... Kaya lang nandiyan na e.

More months have passed, Louise and Bongbong was stupefied upon discovering that their child has developed a hemophilia. The child needed to undergo experimental gene therapy and Bongbong gladly spent a whole lot of money for his medication.

Later that year, Bongbong decided to undergo blood transfusion with the child to replenish it's system. He no longer asked for Louise's permission, he just wanted the child to stay healthy — that's the least thing he could do. He underwent blood check up and tests before the transfusion.

—

Days passed by before Bongbong was able to get the results from the hospital. He checked on the results to check if he is eligible but it surprised him to see negative results. He went back to the nurse to ask for a clear interpretation of the results.

"I would just like to ask kung bakit hindi ako pwedeng magblood transfusion kay Sandro?" He asked. The nurse took the result paper and examined it. "Ah, meaning po hindi match yung DNA niyo sir, hindi po pwede magdonate ng blood if hindi match." The nurse explained. "Pero kase alam ko pareho kami ng blood type and anak ko siya." He found it hard to believe. "Accurate ba 'tong mga lab results?" He asked. "Yes sir. If you want po, you can try out another test so we can confirm." The nurse suggested.

Bongbong thought twice about considering it. He started to think about everything. He never felt close to the child, it's like it wasn't really his. Louise kept her replies concise when he asks about the child's background and then the results. Their DNAs don't match. He started to feel the anger growing inside him for the possible deception. He went to Louise's place to confront her right away.

"Uy, Bong. Napadaan ka?" She asked. He immediately pulled her out of the room and confronted her at the living room to avoid waking up the sleeping child.

"Pwede bang paki-explain saakin 'to?" He dared and handed her the DNA test results. She opened it and felt doomed. She was caught.

"Hindi match yung DNA namin? Pano nangyari yon e anak ko si Sandro?!" He yelled at her but she remained quiet. "We're you trying to trick me the whole time? Anak ko ba talaga siya?!" He continued but still no response from her.

He knew she was guilty with how she remained silent upon the confrontation. "Bong, I can explain—"

"Tàngína, Louise!" He swore. "Anong kagàguhan 'to?! Sinayang ko yung oras at pera ko sa hindi ko naman anak? Pera lang pala ang habol mo?!" He yelled. "You could have just asked me! Did you know how much I suffered and sacrificed para sa kalokohang 'to?!"

"I gave up so much for this tapos malalaman ko pinaglololoko mo lang pala ako?!" He wanted to tell her about how much he suffered when he lost the love of his life because of it but he didn't want to sound so weak.

"I'm sorry." She uttered. "Gusto ko lang magkaroon ng maayos na future yung anak ko... At matinong tatay." She continued.

He grunted and glared at her. "You want a nice future?!" He pulled out a cheque and issued P200,000 for her. "Ayan! Kunin mo lahat at wag na wag ka nang magpapakita saakin kahit kelan!" He warned her. "Ayoko nang makita maski anino mo, Louise, ipasok mo yan sa utak mo!" He added before he stomped out and slammed the door.

He drove away and got himself wasted with Martin later in the evening as he opened up to him what he just learned.

"Ano?!" Martin exclaimed upon hearing the news. "Nakaka-gàgo talaga!" He replied and took a few drinks.

"Gusto kong makipagbalikan kay Leni... And to apologize." He brought up. Martin found it a bit of a bad idea. "Bong... I don't think that is a very good idea..." He replied.

"Bakit hindi?" He asked. "Halos isang taon na kayong wala ni Leni. Baka nakamove on na yon by this time..." Martin explained.

"Well, hindi ba mas perfect time to come back especially if everything between us isn't that old yet? Pwede pang ibalik!" He sounded so hopeful. "Eh... Di ko alam. Mas kilala mo siya e. Kung tingin mong okay yan, eh di go." He replied.

"Tama." Bongbong exhaled. "How are you gonna talk to her? She changed her number, di ba?" He asked. "Pupunta ako sakanila bukas." He sounded so decided.

—

As he took his steps to Leni's apartment the next day, it felt intolerable for Bongbong to long for Leni's presence and touch. He missed seeing her smiles, he missing seeing her and after a while, he's gonna see her again.

"Sino pong hanap niyo, sir?" The receptionist asked him. "Ah, nandito ba si Leni? Leni Robredo sa apartment 028." He stated. The land lady checked the list.

"Sir, wala pong Leni Robredo sa 028." She informed him. "Ha? Sigurado ka? Leni Robredo, Maria Leonor, Natalia sa 028?" He asked.

The lady checked their database but there wasn't any Leni living within their units. "Wala po sir, e." She informed him.

"Dito siya nakatira, sigurado ako. Yung may kapatid na bata. Si Natalia. Si Leni yung mga 5'2 siguro tapos hanggang dito yung buhok..." He tried his best to describe her but the clerk was clueless.

"Anong meron?" The land lady came and asked. "Yes, dito nakatira si Leni Robredo 'di ba? Remember?" He replied as he recalled the landlady.

"Yung kasama niya yung bata niyang kapatid?" He added. The landlady looked at him for a moment before she finally recalled. "Ah! Si Leni, yung kapatid ni Natalia. Ikaw yung boyfriend niya, di ba?" The landlady exclaimed. "Yes! Opo!" He replied.

"Eh, matagal nang di nakatira dito sila Leni." She informed him. "Po...?" He uttered. "Matagal nang umalis yung magkapatid na yon dito? May isang taon na yata." She shared. "Anong nangyari? Akala ko ba kayo?" She asked.

He felt a bit astonished to hear the news from the landlady. "Wala na po kami e... Anyways, alam niyo ba kung saan sila lumipat?" He asked.

"Ay hindi e."

He felt down and tried visiting Natalia's new school but later discovering that she also transferred to another institution.

He felt hopeless to reach out Leni again. Nobody knew where she moved out. Nobody knew her active phone number either. He just couldn't think of a way to communicate with her.

—

Bongbong invited Martin for a drinking session again. He confided to him about his struggle to reach out for Leni again.

"Hindi ko alam kung saan siya hahanapin o kung pano ko siya hahanapin. I just wanted to apologize and explain myself... It doesn't matter if she forgives me or not..." He opened up. Martin hated to see him so down. He wasn't used to it. He felt his weakness.

"Bong... Don't you think this is your fate?" He asked. "I mean... Maybe there is a reason behind all these. A good one. And... If you really think that you and Leni are meant for each other... Then fine. If you're really meant for each other, babalik at babalik yan. You'll cross paths in the future without even trying." He tried to enlighten him.

"Ang magagawa mo lang ngayon is is to wait and hope to cross paths with her again just like how you crossed paths with her at the hospital, remember? It was all unexpected." He advised. "Bong. If it's meant to be, it will be. That's how destiny works." He added.

Bongbong knew he was right. There's nothing else he can do to reach out for Leni again. All their communications turned impossible after she disappeared with the wind. He had no choice but to wait for her to come back. But the question now is... will she ever come back?