#blame my grandpa and his campfire stories

[hushbats]

Jonathan Byers’ Bogus Journey: Day 2

Read: Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4

Read Part 2 on AO3

Day 2: 08/15/1987

Devil’s Backbone State Park, Missouri

We have our first – and hopefully last - detour.

We were barely out of Indiana when we passed a sign for Devil’s Backbone, and Eddie declared it the most metal sounding name for a campsite that he’d ever heard and insisted we just had to go. It was way out of our way. Finding the place was a real nightmare and we got lost several times with Steve navigating. It was late afternoon before we found the place so now, we’ve pretty much lost a day. I swear they must have planned it because Steve had conveniently packed a tent and a couple of sleeping bags. I swear, if I miss Argyle’s birthday because of these idiots, I’ll…I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’m going to be so pissed. I planned it so that there would be some time to spare in case we broke down or something. I didn’t factor in the three of them derailing everything. I was out voted of course, so what could I do but just go along with it.

Myself and Steve were on tent duty seeing as we were going to be the ones sleeping in it – with warning to pitch it well away from the van where Eddie and Billy would be sleeping. I say myself and Steve, but it became clear very quickly that Steve had never been camping a day in his life and he was way more of a hinderance than a help. In the end, I set it up myself with Steve holding what I told him to hold and complaining through the whole process. Bonnie and Clyde were in charge of building the camp fire. In hindsight, we probably shouldn’t have assigned the two delinquents a job involving fire, but it went fine miraculously. They had pretty good fire going by the time Steve and I finished up. Now they’re toasting marshmallows, smoking weed, and telling stories around the fire. It’s actually pretty cosy.

“Okay, okay, last story. It’s kind of short but I promise it’s a good one. So, my uncle told me this one one night when he was drunk which means it’s 100% true. He heard it from his father, my grandfather. My grandpa went into check on my dad to say goodnight one night. As my grandpa was tucking my dad in, my dad asked, “can you check under my bed for monsters?” My dad was about five at the time. It was pretty normal request for a kid so my grandpa took a look. But when he looked under the bed he saw my dad, eyes wide with fear, whispering, “Daddy, there’s somebody in my bed!””

“Goddammit Eddie! Why does it always have to be a fucking creepy-ass story? Can’t you tell one of your stupid fantasy stories?”

“Aww, is widdle baby Biwwy scared?”

“Knock it off, Eddie. I’m serious. Do you want to be punched? Because you’re this fucking close.”

“Shit! Do you guys hear something?”

“Relax, Steve, it’s probably just a bird or something. Don’t let Eddie’s stories get to you.”

“Easy for you to say, Byres. You don’t believe in ghosts…”

“Wait, wait, wait. You believe in ghosts and shit! Oh my God, this is too good.”

“Quit your cackling, Munson.”

Steve and Billy are really on edge. And I don’t blame them for getting freaked out by Eddie’s stories. In anyone else’s hands, the stories were mediocre at best and downright funny at worst. But something about the way his eyes get all big and intense, body edging ever closer as he leans in, the flames of the campfire casting dark shadows on his face; it was all just a bit unsettling. He knows how to tell a good story; I’ll give him that. He has them hanging on to his every word as he builds up to the climax. The eeriness of being in a forest, miles from anyone, was only adding to the overall creepy atmosphere; sucking them further into whatever weird tale Eddie spun. They never stood a chance really whether they believed in ghosts or not. Even I had chills and I wasn’t even really listening.

“Whatever. I’m going to take a piss.”

“Ugh, I’d love to smack that smug smirk of his stupid face.”

“Can do, Harrington. And I know just the thing. You want in, Byres?”

“Hmm, what? Uh, no. I’ll leave it to you two.”

“You sure? You really don’t want to miss this. Trust me.”

“Nah, really, I’m good. You guys have fun scaring Eddie and I’ll keep an eye on the fire. Just don’t scare him too badly.”

“No promises. The little shit deserves it.”

As civil as Billy has been so far, I know firsthand how he can take things too far, especially when provoked. And Eddie’s been poking the bear all day without anything to keep him occupied. The vein in Billy’s temple was becoming more and more pronounced with every second that passed today. I guess calling him out on being a scaredy cat was the last straw. As long as I’m not on the receiving end of Billy’s temper, I don’t really care. Godspeed, Eddie.

It's actually nice out here in nature, away from all the noise. I couldn’t have asked for better weather; there’s not a cloud in the sky. A perfect night for star gazing. I might have to take up camping. I did it a little as a kid, but only in the field behind my house in summer to avoid Lonnie so it doesn’t really count. It would make for an amazing date. Speaking of dates, I wonder if Argyle likes camping. It would be nice to do something like this with him. We could head down to the beach, camp there in the back of Argyle’s van, get baked and trace constellations. Maybe if the mood is right and I don’t chicken out, we could have our first kiss there – a perfect kiss on a perfect date. If only I were here with him now instead of herding these idiots across the country, I’d be having a much better time for sure. At least I have a bit of peace a quite now that they’re all occupied.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! Jesus H Christ!! I’m going to murder you two in your sleep!”

Well, that was short lived.

[ann-chovi]

Opened up Medibang on my tablet to work on my big project, and decided to look through old files- and found this! Did this up about a year ago and forgot to upload it anywhere???? It was going to be a full series of my fav pokemon of each type. :'D I got as far as Trevenant and halfway through a Chandelure lol

Bonus odd find in my files:

I do NOT recall drawing this, and am quite sure that I was quite high at the time. So there you go.

[caretaker-au]

Kindness & Justice: Backstory

The two adolescent girls huddled around a small campfire in the twilight, trying to finish their dinner before nightfall. The tall cook poured the remains of pancake batter into the cast iron pan, mentally crossing her fingers that this one wouldn’t stick as bad as the previous one did. 

“This is the last one,” the cook said, “You want it?”

“No, that one is all yours,” her friend answered between mouthfuls. She didn’t have a fork, so she had rolled up the pancake like a burrito. At some point, her black cowboy hat had fallen off her head and hung against her back by the drawstring. It was her latest attempt at bringing Western wear back into vogue. “I shouldn’t have teased you for packing all that kitchen stuff. This turned out way better than I expected.”

“Worth it?” the cook asked with a grin.

“Worth it,” the shorter girl smiled. She finished off her food and stretched, moving her hat so she could lay down by the fire. The pink-streaked clouds floated overhead. It was warm enough that the fire was a little bit uncomfortable, but it didn’t seem right to lay anywhere else.

“So…” the cowgirl ventured, “You ready to talk about what happened with your folks?”

“Ugh, not really,” she answered, prodding at the batter with the spatula, “But, after working so hard to cheer me up, I suppose you’ve earned the right to know... Mom and Dad cornered me about their suspicions, and I told them the truth about us. Well, not about us, exactly, I left you out of it. I told them about me.”

“I’m guessing they didn’t take it too well.”

“I mean, they took it about as well as expected. Shouting, some crying, the whole works. Kept saying it was their fault, but that didn’t stop them from blaming me anyway.” The cook glanced at her friend, and saw her scowling. “It really wasn’t that bad though,” she added, “I mean, it could have been a lot worse, I’m pretty lucky, when you think about it.”

“Are you kidding me?” she sat up, her face incredulous, “Your parents are the lucky ones for having a daughter like you! They don’t deserve you, and you don’t deserve to be treated like a mistake. The unfairness of it all, it just--” she clenched the fabric of her skirt, stumbling over her words, “Once we get back to the city, I’m going to give them a piece of my mind.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t…” the tall girl said, her voice falling low, “I know it’s not your style, but I want you to try to be nice to them.” The cowgirl rolled her eyes, so she continued with a bit of forced smile, “Not for them but for me, okay?”

The short friend sighed, “Okay, for you. Is that thing done cooking yet?”

In response, the cook jerked the pan, masterfully flipping the pancake over. One side was a perfect golden brown. “Just a little bit longer now.”

The cowgirl sat up, surveying the campsite. The two of them had never been camping before, and the hike had been much harder than either of them had anticipated. It didn’t help that they had over-packed and had to cut their climb a bit short as a result. Nonetheless, the clear warm night and birds chirping in the trees made the escape feel almost as magical as the girls had hoped for. A quiet sanctuary where no people would be around: well, most likely no people, that is. 

“Hey, speaking of miserable family members,” the short girl ventured, “Did I ever tell you about the skeleton in my family’s closet?”

“This better not be one of your weird scary horror stories.”

“It sure is!” she answered. The cowgirl jumped to her feet, clearing her voice in preparation for the tale, “Listen to this: when my grandpa was a little kid, his brother tried to murder him.”

“How very ‘Cain and Abel’,” the cook smirked, “You can’t just start there. Start at the beginning of the story. What lead up to it?”

“That’s just it, no one really knows. Everyone says he just snapped and went crazy when the two of them were home alone. Grandpa was just happily playing video games at the time, so maybe his brother wanted a turn.”

“That… doesn’t seem like a very compelling motive,” the cook said, checking the underside of her pancake, “Are you sure your grandpa’s not exaggerating?”

“It’s the truth!” the cowgirl insisted, “His brother attacked him and cracked his head against the coffee table. They found gramps in a puddle of blood in the living room, and he had to be rushed to the hospital and got six stitches! But I still haven’t gotten to the best part.” The girl paused for dramatic effect.

“Best or worst?” the cook lifted the whole pancake with her spatula and tested a small bite on the edge. It was still too hot to eat.

“The best part is…” the cowgirl swept her arm towards the dimly lit forest around them, “His brother fled to this very mountain. And he was never found again.”

“What?” the girl dropped her pancake on the ground. She quickly snapped it up and set it back in the pan. Dirt and ash was stuck to it.

“Five second rule,” the cowgirl murmured. 

“Did you just say your grandpa--”

“Great uncle.”

“--your great uncle ran away to this mountain and died?”

“Disappeared. Maybe he still roams this mountain, searching for more innocent children to send to their graves…” The short girl’s voice was dramatic, but her eyes were dancing with mischief.

“Are you kidding me, that’s so creepy! And to think coming here was your idea! Was this all a set up to scare me?” The cook crossed her arms, but her friend just laughed.

“No, no! To be honest, I didn’t realize this particular trail was a part of The Mount Ebott until we were on our way.”

“A likely story,” the cook murmured as she nibbled the edge of her pancake.

“It’ll be fine, really. Oh, I know--I have something to protect you from any undead uncles. Check this out!” the cowgirl skipped towards their yellow tent and unzipped her backpack that was laying in front of it. She withdrew a long leather holster, with a revolver already tucked inside it.

The tall girl’s jaw dropped open, “You brought your dad’s gun?!”

“Maybe,” she giggled, strapping the holster around her waist, “It will be my gun in a few years, I’m just borrowing it a little early.”

“Do you even know how to use one of those things?”

“Yeah, yeah, I shoot it every year on my birthday. Family tradition.” the gunslinger drew her weapon, pointing it out towards the woods.

“Don’t--”

“It’s okay, it’s not loaded,” she said, popping open the cylinder, “The ammo’s in my bag.”

The cook shook her head, “And I thought my family was crazy.”

The cowgirl spun the gun around her finger and holstered the weapon with practiced flourish. She spoke with an exaggerated drawl, “Don’t worry, darlin’, this lone ranger will defend you from any murderin’ spectral horrors.”

“Stop it! You’re awful!” the cook laughed, before taking another bite of her food. It wasn’t as dirty as she thought, and she swallowed a few more bites before stuffing the rest in her mouth.

“You hear that?” the lone ranger put a hand to her ear, “It won’t be safe for long, we best be getting to bed before the devil finds us.”

“Oh please, that’s enough, Calamity Jane.”

“I prefer the name--”

She was cut off by the sharp crack of a snapped branch. The gunslinger stilled, turning in the direction of the noise, “What was that?”

The tall girl huffed in response, “I said cut it out--" but the cowgirl shushed her, scanning the dense foliage around them. Her heart caught in her throat as she saw a pair of eyes glinting from their firelight. A huge creature, larger than a man, was standing on two legs and peering into the camp from about two hundred feet away.

"There's--" the gunslinger's voice strained to form the words, "There's a bear."

The cook froze. She reached for her cast iron pan and held it with both hands. "What do we do?" she whispered.

The cowgirl shook her head. There weren't supposed to be bears in this area. According to her research, none had been seen for over a decade, which is why she hadn't bothered to look up how to defend against one. The bear dropped down to all fours, and they could hear it begin to huff and snarl.

"Get ready to run," she hissed. The cook stood, and the shorter girl eyed her backpack that held her ammunition. It was sitting at the foot of the tent, but she would have to go toward the monster to retrieve it. The bag was only fifteen feet away but it might as well have been fifteen miles. 

The two didn’t have a chance to decide when to act. With a roar, the bear lunged forward, crashing through the foliage as it charged. The cook shrieked, fleeing the camp, but the cowgirl did the opposite, sprinting towards her bag. She had almost reached it when the tent surged forward, collapsing on top of her in a wave of nylon and snapped metal supports. The gunslinger fell to her back and she pushed the tangle of tent away from her face, only to see the bear looming over her, separated only by the crushed tent. The girl shielded her face with her arms and braced herself for what was to come.

“Get away from her!” her friend screamed. She had returned, and had taken to bludgeoning the bear’s hindquarters with her pan. The bear twisted around and swiped a clawed paw towards her, but the cook jumped back, turning heel to run again. With a snarl, the bear released the cowgirl and chased its assailant. The gunslinger kicked the tangled tent off her legs and before she realized it she was chasing the bear, screaming obscenities and death threats. The cook was fast, but the bear was faster, and she lost sight of them both as they crested a small hill outside the camp. 

A blood curdling shriek filled the tree tops, followed by silence.

The gunslinger tore up the slope and hesitated when she reached the apex. Her friend was nowhere in sight, but the bear had already changed directions, loping back towards her. Her fingers reached for her gun, but she reminded herself it was still empty, and willed herself to retreat. The rapid thumping of the bear’s steps told her she wouldn’t make it to the camp before it caught up with her.

Overhead, the large branch of a cedar bowed over her. Leaping, the girl grabbed it and hoisted herself onto the branch before scrambling up the next. The bear was under the tree in an instant, stretching to full height to swipe at her. Its claw caught her foot, nearly yanking her out of the tree, but only managed to knock off her boot. The girl continued to climb, and the bear snapped off the lower branches, pushing against the trunk. The tree shuddered and flexed under the weight.

With one arm wrapped tight around a branch, the cowgirl pulled off her remaining boot and tossed it down. It bounced off the bear’s shoulder, who gave it a glance before turning its attention back to the girl. She whispered a prayer before unholstering her weapon, and threw the revolver at the monster. The gun crashed against the bear’s muzzle with an audible whack, and the bear pulled back from the tree, shaking its head. She held her breath as the bear paced around the tree before leaving in the direction of the camp. The dense canopy obstructed her view of it, but the tell tale sounds of the creature ripping through bags and crunching through supplies told her all she needed to know.

The girl settled onto the upper branches of the tree and wrapped her arms around the trunk. Against the odds, she was safe but trapped. Without a loaded gun, leaving the tree wasn’t a risk she could afford to take. To make matters worse, the last rays of twilight were fading away, cloaking the woods in frigid darkness. Her flashlight, phone, and ammunition were all at the camp, hidden under the destroyed tent. There was nothing she could do but wait it out.

***

Two hours elapsed before the bear left the camp. Another 30 minutes went by before the gunslinger felt safe enough to crawl down from the tree. Her fingers and toes were frozen and her legs ached as she collected her gun and put her boots back on. However, she didn’t have the luxury to pity herself. Through the dark, she crept back to where the campfire once was and strained her eyes in the dim moonlight for the remains of the tent. It had been dragged a good distance away, destroyed beyond use. She was relieved to find her backpack still twisted up inside, and rifled through the contents. She flicked on her flashlight and put it in the crook of her neck as she loaded her gun. Only six bullets, just enough to show it off to her friend.

If only she had loaded it earlier, then that monster would have got what it deserved.

The lone ranger returned to the camp and cast her flashlight across the ransacked carnage. Clothes and supplies were strewn throughout the foliage, and all that remained of the food were shredded cans and crushed boxes. Even the cooking utensils had been mutilated with gnaw marks. Rage boiled inside her.

The forest looked very dizzyingly similar at night, and she found herself walking in circles, ending up back at the camp again and again. Finally, she accurately identified the hill she had last seen her friend and was surprised to discover a steep drop of about twenty feet not far from it, jagged granite boulders resting at the base. There she found her first lead. A conspicuous dark splatter against the white rocks: blood.

The small girl shouted her friend’s name, but there was no response. She climbed down the steep surface of the cliff side at a much slower pace than her friend would have been afforded. The blood was no longer fresh, but she could see the direction it led before the ground cover became more soil than stone. She followed the trail.

The ferns and ivy lashed across her torn stockings, but she continued forward, right hand hovering over her weapon. She stopped at the entrance of a cave yawning out of the mountainside. It looked both parts refuge and trap. Didn’t bears live in caves?

She called out her friend’s name again, but was answered only with a faint echo. At least it was better than the growl of bears. She shined her light across the back of the cave and could see the tunnel curved, making it impossible to see how deep it was. As she traced the floor with the light, something sparkled. The gunslinger ventured forward and pinched it between her fingers: a hair pin, with a small crystal embedded at the end. The last time she had seen it was in her friend’s hair. She had been here.

The cowgirl huffed out a shuddering sigh, and she couldn’t tell if it was from relief or a renewed sense of dread. If her friend had been here, where was she now?

The child took a deep breath and stepped deeper into the cave.

kindness and justice: backstory // end

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[undeservedfavor]

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The Bucketlist

Mini-Series of Short Stories

St. Valentines Day: CHAPTER 1

"Number 5. Done! So much to do, so little time." The woman said.

Checking an item off her list.

She already got her things packed, ready to leave for the beach.

She rode a plane, a cab, and a train going to her destination.

"Plage Solitaire." Gisela mentioned the name of the beach.

Her vision turned from left to right.

She inhaled the fresh air and appreciated one of her best decisions in life.

The place looks private and isolated for there are only few people living at the sea-side.

"No pure white sand. Waters are not so clear. Lonely. Of all the Beaches, why here in this damn stinky hole? Well, 'can't blame ye, the morning and afternoon in this village is peaceful indeed." An old folk muttered with a western accent as he is mixing drinks at his so called 'BoozeBar' which the old rusty sign said.

She just smiled and looked at the man.

"Oh, where's my darn manners, the name's Old Man Larry. What's your name child?" She shook his hand and answered.

"Nice to meet you Larry. Gisela. I have just moved in, I wanna live here, this is one of my favorite places as my parents brought me here once... Way back, when they're still alive. Wouldn't exchange it for another. Even if it's the last place I go to." She said forcing a smile to the man who just nodded feeling sad by just listening to her tone and watching her facial expressions.

She must be going through something.

Not just something.

A lot.

Tons of things are running on this silent woman's mind.

"Grandpa, can I drink this juice?" His grandson asked Larry.

"That ain't no juice son. That's poison. By the way, Gisela, you're welcome drink's on me. Ye may join the party later. The Valentine's Night is the opposite. It's the only night apart from Christmas ye can consider a festival." He said as he handed her his own concoction, like it was derived from two known mocktails/ladies' drink, Mimosa and Sangria.

Then an old lady approached and greeted them.

She seemed tough but she went to them smiling.

"I'm the owner of this isolated place you called a stinky hole Larry, like you have no respect for your wife, goodness gracious! You should be helping me build this place up, not spread rubbish to tear this place down. Do that again and I'll burry an old man to the sand. Nice to meet you?" She did not finish the sentence.

"Gisela. Of the doomed." She said laughing a bit.

"Oh such a joker. I'm Olivia." The old lady introduced herself.

The old woman showed Gisela the directions to her beach house.

It was a tiny, cozy, bright-yellow colored wooden beach house.

It's so remarkable and outstanding that you would even recognize it from afar.

It outshined the other dull-colored houses.

Plus, the best part is that, it's the nearest one to the beach.

She was busy arranging her stuff... When she heard the loud music pumped and started at the beach, she peaked through the window and saw the lights that gave life to the dead atmosphere earlier.

She heard and saw the people mingle, laugh and started to gather round the campfire to dance, chat and have fun not being sober tonight.

She dressed up wearing my lace bikini under my beach dress.

She went out and hanged at the BoozeBar when a guy recently approached her.

"Why aren't you drinking yet beautiful?" The weird guy asked.

"I don't plan on drowning myself in hard-liquor tonight. I would rather just drown in my own thoughts. Alone. Thank you." Gisela answered.

"Just a sip. Please." He insisted.

"No thanks. Can you go and leave the goner now?" Gisela resisted.

***Phone Rings***

Gisela's phone rang, she just stared at the screen to see who's calling, thinking if she would answer or not.

As she was doing so, split-second, the man dropped something in her drink and left without a trace.

She took a while deciding whether to answer it or not but in the end, she chose to ignore and miss the call.

She sipped her glass and her favorite songs played.

She went near the waters and sat on the sand to get a feel of what she seeked for.

Freedom.

After a few hours of listening to music, her vision began to blur.

She panicked and immediately stood which was a bad idea for she felt more groggy... Like a bad case of vertigo.

She tried to walk passed the crowed, little did she know that there was a hungry hyena waiting for her at the other side.

The man she was with earlier was waiting for her to fall under his trap and sieze her, like a predator stalking his prey.

Well, I guess first impressions last, by the looks of it, he isn't really gonna do any good.

She walked, but she also felt so dizzy that she cannot even stand straight.

Her knees are trembling and it looked like her eyesight betrayed her for being inconsistent, it goes back to normal in a few seconds then intermittently goes back to being blurry again.

Her strength gave up on her and she lost her balance.

A man caught her from her back using his strong and firm arms.

A different man than the one from before.

"Are you alright Miss?" The man with a very deep voice asked.

Gisela gathered all of her strength to open her eyes wide to locate her house.

Well, it's literally just near the water, the BoozeBar and the party so she did not have a hard time pin-pointing the place even if it's just the outline and the color of the house that she can recognize as of the moment.

She lifted her arms and pointed her finger to that direction.

To make sure,  the guy asked old man Larry where she lives...

"Well, it's that bright house over there. Take care of the lonely woman but don't try to do anything ungentlemanly or you'll end up in a dungeon..." The old man warned the handsome man and he just nodded.

It seemed that he got tired and carried the woman in his arms.

When they got to her place, he immediately looked for the sink and filled the kettle with water then he set it to boil.

He's now got a luke-warm water on the basin and wiped Gisela's face with a wet cloth.

It seemed that right after, Gisela went to life a bit and asked the man who he is...

"Are you sure you do not recognize me? I can't blame you, this place has no TV." He muttered his observation.

"I can't breathe! I might die from it! Why is it so damn hot in here?!" Gisela screamed and immediately slipped out of her dress and untied the knots of her bikini, exposing her bare skin in front of the stranger.

The man is also drunk but Gisela might have been drugged.

But the man was not aware of that, he just thought she had more than enough Booze because of her stench.

Technically, she drank but just  little.

So that's what he smelled.

The man tried to dress her up again.

With the shown concern, Gisela got curious to get to know the man who's taking care or her.

She looked at his face carefully trying her best to recognize a feature of his face which might have been misinterpreted by the drunken man.

He thought that she was trying to kiss him and suddenly their faces went closely looking at each other...

It did not matter who broke and closed the space between them but their lips met, passionately kissing and wildly answering evey touch of the other person.

Leave it to one's imagination.

You name it...

They did it all the way that night.

Then, the rest were just hot history in the making.

Next morning, er, afternoon, with eyes still closed Gisela felt her aching body muscles and her 'you know what' is definitely sore but that was the best and the longest sleep she ever had especially for the passed couple of weeks that she has not been able to sleep properly due to insomnia.

Not remembering what happened last night, she moved a little to embrace the pillow beside her but she felt that the pillow turned rocky and it felt like a heat of another person's flesh.

Little did she know, that it really wasn't a pillow.

So she opened one of her eyes, trying not to be blinded by the light coming from the window.

She froze and opened both of her eyes widely.

Not because her body is aching from the strenious activity she did last night...

But because she saw a naked stranger sleeping beside her...

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Characters/Cast/Face Claims (But feel free to imagine😉):

Courtney Eaton as Gisela Valentine

Choi Seung-hyun as Dorian West

[daddyfuckinlonglegs]

Fallout OC Interview

So @lookbluesoup​ tagged me to do this, and I… well I did it my own way, as ever. It’s long, so I hope you wanna stick with it. If you wanna do it, I’ll list the questions as a comment. I dunno, I don’t tag people really, do it if you want to. Particularly @bagheera-is-back​ and @wasteland-mama​, and @saltsealed, but really, I’m enjoying reading them, so do it if you haven’t already. Nate ducked through the doorway, shaking the dirt from his shoes before stepping inside. Piper grinned and gestured to the chair opposite her, and untucked a small, stubby pencil from behind her ear. “Thanks for doing this, Blue. I’m sure they’ll get sick of hearing about you soon enough, but for now, we gotta give the people what they want.”  Nate nodded, settling quietly into the chair, the leather of his jacket creaking as he lowered himself down. He hitched up his trousers at the knee, sniffed, cleared his throat. Piper smiled at him, and nodded to the table next to him. “There’s a beer, if you want it. Help you relax a little.” Nate raised an eyebrow. “You tryin’ to get me drunk, Wright? Liquor me up and hope I spill something good? Not very ethical.” He smiled, a little curl at the corner of his mouth, and Piper looked alarmed. “Oh, no! No, nothing like, that, I mean, there’s… there’s some water too, just, y'know, thought…” She cleared her throat nervously. “Shall we get started?”

She regained her composure, pulling up a chair in front of Nate, backward, and leaning her notepad on the back of it, legs straddling the seat. “So, first up, tell us some basics; what’s your full name?” “Uhm, Nathan Christopher Stahl.” “Mmhmm, and how old are you?” Nate shrugged, that little smile playing at his mouth. “Old enough to know better? I dunno, I was thirty-seven when the bombs dropped. So, give or take 200 years…” Piper flashed him a small smile. “Okay, give the readers some idea of what you look like; defining features, as you see them, what do people notice about you first?” Nate shuffled, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Uhhh, I dunno, I’m…tall, sorta gangly? Black hair, sideburns. My… my nose is kinda…” He pressed his finger to the tip, pushing it up and exaggerating his nostrils. They both laughed, and he looked away to the ceiling. “What is this, anyway, a personal ad? You tell ‘em what I look like.” “Oh don’t worry, I intend to.” She laughed. He winked at her, and she dropped her eyes to the notepad, blushing slightly. Dammit he made her nervous. “Okay, so tell us a bit about where you’re from? You a Boston native, or…” He nodded. “I was. Been here my whole life, except for, y'know, deployment. I grew up pretty near where Goodneighbor is, right by the Common. Moved over to Newton when I was about eight, nine. It was a nice place.” Piper nodded enthusiastically. “I bet it was! Things must be so different now… What was it like, growing up before the war? Can you tell us a little bit about you as a kid, what kind of things you’d get up to?” Nate sat back on the sofa, slinging his arm across the back.  “Well, my dad wasn’t around so much, he was a SEAL, so he - a SEAL was like a really, uh, highly trained soldier, best of the best – so he wasn’t around all that much, me and my mom used to spend most of our weekends with my Grandpa, over in Roslindale. He was a good guy, let me pretty much do what I wanted to do, helped me build campfires and we used to go fishing sometimes. I never had the patience for fishing, so it always turned into a sorta… life lessons in a boat. Let me have a beer, smoke a cigarette, talked to me about girls, y'know, the stuff your parents wouldn’t like. My mom found out once, when I came home with beer spilled all across my pants, and boy she was mad. He was, uh, sneakier, after that. I got a lot of good memories with him.”  “My mom, well, she had a temper, but she always did her best. I think all the time alone must have really gotten to her, especially with me, being a mischievous little bastard so much of the time. I didn’t exactly make it easy for her, but I think she was dealing with more than I really understood, at the time. My dad…” He paused, cleared his throat. “My dad and I never saw eye to eye.”  Piper let him sit a moment, just in case he’d pick up the thread, but he stayed silent, looking off into the corner of the room, over his shoulder. He turned back to face her. “What’s next?” Piper nodded, licked her thumb and flicked the pages of her notepad. “Uhm… lemme see. Why don’t you tell us a little more about your association with the Minutemen? Rumour has it you’ve been promoted.” Nate laughed.  “Nice to hear the Boston rumour mill is still in tip top condition. Yeah, I’ve been… requested to take on a more directorial role. The Minutmen are certainly growing again, there’s more and more settlements being established as a network across the commonwealth, more and more people signing up to watch each others’ backs and have more folks to rely on in a crisis. Lieutenant Garvey has been hard at work, rebuilding the Castle and the ranks are looking stronger than ever, even got a team modding power armour.” He smiled, leaning forward. “For any raiders out there reading this, that’s a real gentle way of saying don’t fuck with us.” Piper grinned. “Might have to censor that one, Blue. Don’t want to offend the delicate sensibilities of the commonwealth’s finest, y'understand. What about the Institute? There’s some, uh, talk that you’ve been inside, some questions about who you’re working with?” Nate sucked his teeth, shuffling his feet uncomfortably. “I’m not in a position to address that.” He leaned forward. “Between you and me, my Geiger counter is in the shop, and this is a bigger shit show than anyone thought. You can say I avoided the question, say I said no, whatever. I can’t talk about it.” She wriggled in her seat, flipping a fresh page, her eyes flashing inquisitively. “Okay, gotcha. So… back to Lieutenant Garvey, he’s one of the people you’re often seen travelling with, and you two seem to have a pretty good chemistry. Is he a squeeze, or is it purely professional?” Nate rolled his eyes. “Wright, this is gossip mag territory. I thought you were better than that.” She shrugged, her cheeks colouring a little. “Hey, not my fault, the people wanna know.” Nate sighed. “No, he’s not a “squeeze”. We’re close, for sure, he’s someone I trust, and we’ve saved each other’s assses plenty of times. But the same goes for Nick, and for Bobby MacCr- sorry, RJ MacCready. Honestly, Valentine is… I don’t think I’d have made it without him. He really kept me in line when I was trying to go off the rails. I owe him a lot.” Piper smiled sincerely. “Yeah, Nicky’s a real good guy. Lotta heart, for a synthetic man, huh?” He nodded. Piper took a deep breath. “So, to press the question a little, is there anyone you’re involved with, currently? Romantically involved with?” Nate chuckled under his breath. “Not exactly. There’s… I’ve got, shall we say, interests.” “C'mon Blue, spill it.” She prodded. “Give us lonely commonwealth folks some hope.” He laughed. “Well, there’s… a little guy, from out of town, he knows who he is. And, well, Diamond city certainly has it’s fair share of pretty girls. Pretty girls with plenty of attitude, girls that make the authorities a little uncomfortable. I’m a sucker for a girl who knows how to get what she wants.” He met her eyes, and Piper’s stomach leapt. He’s kidding, he’s just a goddamn flirt. “Okay, so to move on… Enemies. You gotta have a fair few of them, being in your position?” Nate nodded, drawing his lips tight. “Yeah, unfortunately. The gunners, predictably, are not exactly looking to pat me on the back. The Brotherhood, we don’t see eye to eye either, I blew them off a while back and they’re not exactly pleased that we’re establishing a force of our own with the Minutemen. I spent enough time taking orders before the bombs, I’m really not looking to join up again. I’ve seen enough combat on other people’s terms.” “Do you enjoy the fighting? What’s the wildest combat story you’ve got for us? Spin us a yarn.” Nate considered, tugging a cigarette from his pocket. “Well, there’s… Do you mind?” He gestured at the cigarette, Piper shook her head. He lit up. “There’s a few, to be honest, taking out a deathclaw inside a museum, that was a traumatising experience. That’s where, y'see the scar here?” He tapped beneath his right eye. “Those things are lethal, even when you’re out of arms reach. Threw a big fucking chunk of ceiling tile at me, busted my nose pretty good, but made it out alive.” Piper whistled. “Lucky.” Nate shook his head. “Nah, I don’t believe in luck. I’m just grateful MacCready managed to do more than just shit his pants. Can’t blame him.” He inhaled and blew the smoke away quickly. “Don’t print that, he’ll kill me. There was the Castle, too. Big bastard Mirelurk, Garvey said it was a Queen, that was a close call. If I live my whole life and never have to smell another…” He shuddered, Piper laughed. “Not a fan of the aquatic life then?” “Not particularly. Bloodbugs though, they’re the… fuck those things. Can’t stand them. Bloatflies too, disgusting.” “Any critters you don’t hate?” She smiled. “Plenty. From a distance, Yao Guai are some majestic looking things, aren’t they? And mole rats, when they’re just going about their business…” He held his hands up like paws and stuck his teeth out, imitating the rats’ snuffling sound, and Piper laughed out loud. He grinned, and took another drag. “I don’t know about you, I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for them. And, maybe this is pre-war hagover, but protectrons, y'know, I kinda love the big stupid things. I used to work for RobCo, before I was in the Navy, and I always liked 'em the best.” Piper sat forward. “Used to work for RobCo? So you’re a bit of a whizz with electronics huh?” Nate shook his head, sucking the cigarette. “Not really. I was sales, I can do a bit of maintenance, and shut things down in a pinch, but I never had the flair for that stuff. My speciality was convincing people to buy stuff.” “Ahh, more of a sweet talker, huh?” “Takes one to know one, sugar.” He winked. “Yeah, I’ve always been more a lover than a fighter, and my mouth has gotten me into, and out of, plenty of trouble. Good with my hands, too, for what it’s worth.” He flicked his eyebrows in a quick arc, a half smile curling the corner of his mouth. Piper blushed again, laughing. “I can see why. You’re a rouge, aren’t you? What other tricks have you got up your sleeve?” “Well, I’m not a bad swimmer, my aim’s pretty good, I’m pretty light on my feet, make a good steak.” he laughed. “And I might not be a brute-force kinda guy, but I can hold my own.” Piper nodded. “And how was it, adjusting to the world out here? The radiation? You must’ve been pretty shocked at the mutants, and ghouls…” Nate nodded. “For sure, it was a shock. Coming out of the vault was… I was already in a bad place, freezing and alone and… y'know, everything. When I got up to the surface, I just… my knees just went out, and honestly, I sat and cried, I don’t know how long.” He stubbed out his cigarette.  “The next… I dunno, month or two, it was hard. Even just getting up, just walking around, it felt like all my bones were made of lead, my head full of water, y'know? I made it to Goodneighbor, but I was so sick, all the food I’d been scavving was poisoning me, and I didn’t know what the hell was happening. John – Mayor Hancock – got Amari to fix me up, but we, uh… he and I had some pretty serious misunderstandings back then, so I didn’t stick around to rest like I was supposed to. Nick really looked out for me around then, but… in the midst of it all he ended up being out of action, and Mayor Hancock ended up trekking into the glowing sea with me.” Piper’s face dropped. “I know. Crazy. Trust me, it was more crazy than it sounds. But he kept me alive, and we held up pretty well considering. I’ve never seen one man soak up so many chems before, but then, I wasn’t far behind.” Piper tilted her head quizically. “Are you a fan of… recreational substances, then?” Nate looked at the ceiling and chewed his lip. “Uhhh, I dunno, I have a bit of a love/hate relationship there. I’ve… been known to enjoy myself at a party, in the past, y'know, before the bombs. Sometimes a little too much. But things are different out here, and some can really change the tide of a fight. I’m not saying you should, I’m saying it’s an option, in a pinch.” Piper nodded. “D'you ever think about life before the war?” “All the time. All the time. So many places here have bits of my life attached, sometimes it’s like a little niggle in my stomach - “gee, I could really go for an ice cream right now!” - other times it’s like the floor falling out under you.” She sidestepped the obvious sore point, instead asking; “What’s ice cream?” Nate furrowed his brow. “It was… so it’s milk, like a thick cream, and they froze it, but not like a block of ice, it was… it was more like snow, I guess, like thick, sugary snow. All different flavours, you put it on a… a kinda waffle cone, and it just melted in your mouth, or you could put it in a soda and…” He paused, laughing. “It’s a lot harder to explain than I thought. But you’d have liked it. Sometimes couples went out for ice cream, like on a date, before a movie or something. I bet you’d have liked that too. I might even have offered to take you.” She laughed, smiling wistfully, eyes bright. “Sounds… tasty. You a soda kind of guy? I can’t get enough of the stuff.” “Well, I wasn’t,” he gestured, “before the war. But the fact that Nuka Cola is practically the same as it was then… it blows my mind, and it’s a nice little slice of memory. I heard some people are trying to find the formula, want to get the bottling plant up and running again. How’s that for an achievement?” He laughed, and Piper wanted to reach out and touch him, smooth her fingers across the little lines at the corners of his eyes, put her hand on his chest and feel his voice under her palm… She smiled at him. “Speaking of achievements, what would you say is the biggest one for you?” “Uhh, not being dead yet? I dunno, helping Preston re-establish the Minutemen is… it’s a huge thing, and I wouldn’t take credit for it all, but joining them, really making things better for people and really… instigating change. That’s something I’ve always wanted. I’m glad to be a part of it.” Piper nodded, scribbling frantically. “Any regrets?” Nate swept his hand through his hair, looking away again. “I dunno, that’s a big question. Yeah. I have some. I can’t really say more. Sorry.” “That’s okay. Would… would you say you have goals?” She leaned forward. “Things you’ve learned from those regrets? What do you want, what’re you working towards for the future?” He rubbed the corners of his mouth and thought for a moment. “I… guess I want to make a home again. Not just for myself, but for… for everyone out here. Just to make people feel safe, to bring a little bit of the lightness that life used to have. To give people back that… hope.” He looked at Piper, his eyes flicking from deep thought to a mischievous gleam. “Short term, I’d like that beer, and maybe to get laid. I dunno if you want to publish that though.” She laughed, blushing, closing her notebook and hopping to her feet. “I think that’s the perfect ending; giving the people hope, just like you said.” She stepped close to him, extending her hand, and he shook it warmly. “Thanks for being such a good sport, Blue. And… if you ever want to hit the road with someone, you just remember where to find me, 'kay? I’m always on the prowl for a new story, and you seem to just… scoop 'em up, by accident. I think it’d be a lot of fun, travelling with you, and I’m not too terrible with a pistol either. You gimme a shout, y'hear?” He stood, tugging his jacket down over his stomach, and nodded, smiling. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

[talcgargoyle]

The Cucumbers Just Stay There

HOO Hazel Levesque and Piper McLean friendship fic for @theinsidiouscinnamonroll Candy’s contest

Warnings: too much fluff, fluff levels hazardous, hazel is too adorable and needs to be stopped

“Nico, I did not ‘just get here,’ I’ve been at Camp Half-blood for a full three days. And i’m just going to see Piper and Percy and Annabeth!” Hazel mumbled as she walked out of the Hades cabin.

“Ok, just be back in time for the campfire sing-along. Will is a pretty awesome singer,” Nico shouted to Hazel’s back. He just wanted to make sure she was ok; she had just been complaining of some problems with the Mist. Nico knows how competent Hazel is with it, and if she’s commenting about the problem, the Mist must really be acting up. He’ll have to head over to the Hecate cabin later to find Lou Ellen and talk with her about it.

Hazel began her stroll through the cabins.She looked down to admire the springy, green grass and flowers making their way in a line to the Demeter cabin. Maybe Miranda was feeling extra happy today and chose to go on a walk; she tends to leave lilies when she’s in a good mood. Hazel loved the warm sun in the cloudless Long Island sky. She could hear the dryads and naiads playing in the forest, and the huffing of the fauns - no, satyrs - as they chased after them. Hazel couldn’t believe how peaceful and laid-back the Greeks were. She spied a couple Hermes kids terrorizing the Apollo cabin with kazoos of mass cacophony. A group of Hephaestus kids were trying out their new Greek fire-shooting drone in some Ares cabin drill. Hazel could understand Ares kids’ spirit, but their discipline was severely lacking.

What are you thinking, Hazel? You know this is just leftover propaganda from your time at Camp Jupiter! Romans may be disciplined, but we sure are full of ourselves.

Hazel shook her head to clear her mind as she decided to visit Piper in cabin 10. A nice chat always cheered her up on the Argo II. Gods know she could use some girl time after that talk with Nico. He’s such a worrier! 

Hazel approached the doorway and knocked. Upon hearing Lacy’s “Come on in,” Hazel opened the door to find Piper half-asleep reading a book of old Cherokee stories she must have gotten from her grandpa. 

“Hey Piper. How are you doing?” Hazel greeted.

“Hi Hazel. What brings you here?”

“I’ve just been really stressed out lately and I thought we could chat to help distract from all of it.”

“Of course, I’m always here for you, girl! In fact, I have the perfect antidote for stress. Wait one second. Lace, can you help her get ready?”

“Lacy, what is she talking about?” Hazel asked guardedly. Piper’s enthusiasm and that glint in her eye combined make for troublesome times.

“Don’t worry Hazel, just relax! We’re here to pamper you,” Lacy assured, “Now, show me your hands. I’ve got to get them ready for the manicure!”

Ever cautious, Hazel hesitantly splayed her fingers for Lacy to see. There was still the remnants of some gold nail polish she’d tried to apply herself, but it never really worked out. 

“Well, nothing a little exfoliating can’t fix!” Lacy said after a half-second too long of a pause. She began working on Hazel’s cuticles with such tenacity that Hazel was worried there wouldn’t be any nail left to paint when she was through!

“There we go! Good as new!” Lacy smiled, proud of her work. After a quick coating of primer to help the later coats, Hazel got a good look at Lacy’s handiwork. Hazel couldn’t blame her for being proud. Her nails hadn’t looked this good since… well, since the 30′s. 

Hazel didn’t have much time to admire them, because just then, Piper burst through the doorway from the bathroom carrying all kinds of supplies. The color range was the most surprising to Hazel. The various concoctions ranged from clear (nail polish remover was Hazel’s best guess) to gold nail polish to even a container black as the night sky. 

“Okay, Gemstone, it’s time to sit yourself down here and bask i the glory of Madame Piper’s Pampering! Patent pending,” Piper proclaimed. She only got this snarky when she was really excited about something, so Hazel obliged her request and displayed her fingers for Piper’s inspection. 

“So, I’m thinking this darker, brownish gold would do wonders to bring out your eyes. What do you think?” Piper asked as a courtesy. Hazel knew she knew that Hazel would trust Piper’s decisions, if only because Hazel trusted her own less than anyone else’s. 

“Go ahead,” Hazel said, “I bet it will look just lovely.” 

Piper got to work right away expertly covering each nail in a perfectly even layer of pigment. Hazel guessed beauty product expertise came with the whole Aphrodite kid territory. She’d only known skulls and cursed gems as her demigod experience, and she would never admit to the fleeting envious feeling that came over her. But Hazel soon dismissed it. Piper was doing her a favor after all, and she loved getting to spend time with the Beauty Queen, as Hazel so lovingly referred to Piper.

“Done with the first coat! Now, as this dries, I was thinking we could try out this new face mask craze that I’ve seen through Iris-Messages to some of the Aphrodite kids who go home during the school year,” Piper started to rummage through her supplies and gave a small noise of approval when she grabbed what she had been looking for.

When Hazel saw the contents, she was less than pleased.

“You said this was a face mask, right? The only liquid darker than my skin tone? Is this some kind of joke, Pipes?” Hazel inquired. Piper wasn’t the type for douchey humor like this. She was of Native descent, so Hazel thought she was more aware than this.

“What? You mean... Oh my gods, I’m so sorry. I swear, it’s just a charcoal mask. It’s supposed to be very exfoliating and leave your pores clear. I can put it back if you want me to. Sorry, I obviously wasn’t thinking,” Piper’s apology was genuine.

“It’s ok, I just have never heard of a charcoal face mask. Let’s try it!” Hazel said, eager to move on from the awkward interaction. 

“All right, let’s do it. Again, I’m really sorry. I truly didn’t mean that. Let’s start with the cucumbers...”