#but it’s like. i have a nice little chunk of savings i’d much rather spend my time & energy on things that matter

[gobbluthbutagirl]

i don’t know if this is going to be a positive thing to hear or what but i am obsessed with your worlds worst target odyssey and i hope you continue sharing its all insane and incredible. have a good day and stuff

well see the thing is i quit like 4 months ago. so there’s not really anything new to share and there won’t be until i move back to california and pay that beast a visit to see if it’s still standing. but it’s all tagged with “#my job wrapped” if you’re feeling so inclined to take a horrible journey

[generallybarzy]

If You'll Have Me Forever.

an: this is the little fic i decided to write based on a dream i had. I wrote it all in one day while I was at my grandparent's house with no internet or computer, so i wrote it all in my notebook and then typed it up on here haha.

warnings: unedited, mentions of past emotional trauma and unhealthy families

word count: 1.7k

You always loved spending time with Mat's family. Whenever there was a break in the season, you two quickly found yourselves on a plane out to Vancouver, holding hands in the airplane and in the car on the way to his parent's house.

It had been like this since your first summer with them. Mat had invited you home with him for part of the offseason, and although you'd only been dating almost a year and were still nervous to meet his family, you couldn't say no. His family had welcomed you warmly, in fact, warm may not even be good enough to describe it. His parents smiled as soon as they saw you- saw you holding their son's hand, saw him smile proudly as he finally introduced you to them as his girlfriend.

Then, they hugged you.

You hadn't come from a loving family, not one where you openly told each other "I love you" or "I'm proud of you", and certainly not one that hugged and had family game nights. After much discussion with Mat and with your therapist, you came to the conclusion that your family had been borderline emotionally neglectful, and you saw how your childhood had scarred you. Mat's family was so openly affectionate and loving towards you right off the bat that it overwhelmed you, to the point of you going upstairs and refusing to come down until Mat had a talk with you. He was understanding, gently told them to be a little more reserved, and helped to slowly ease you into their love. And that just made you love him even more.

Now, it was your first holiday season with them. After spending a good chunk of last summer in Vancouver, you were certainly excited to spend a few days of your winter here with them rather than in your empty little apartment. You and Mat had flown out the night before, and arrived early in the morning, grateful that the team had managed a few extra days off this season- just enough days to make a trip worth it. The whole day had been spent talking and laughing and just catching up with his family about the past year- how things were going with your studies, with your job, how Mat’s season was going, and how your relationship was going. Later in the evening, after a long round of some board game they’d pulled from the closet, the jet lag and overwhelming, unfamiliar feeling of familial love caught up to you. So, in the middle of preparing some snacks to munch on during the next round of the game, you faked a phone call and quickly excused yourself to the snowy back patio, slipping into your coat and snow boots on the way and disappearing out the door.

Mat had been keeping a close eye on you all night.

He knew how you got about affection, you were even still a little shy receiving love from him, and the last thing he wanted to do was let him or his family overwhelm you again. He had gone to talk with his dad for five minutes- about a topic that had him immediately searching for you to go hide away and get some much needed alone time- and when he came back to the living room, you weren’t where he left you with his mom and sister.

“Where’s (Y/N)?”

“Oh,” his mom looked up from preparing the food. “She stepped out back to take a phone call.”

“Yeah?” Mat snuck over to the backdoor, squinting out into the snow and spotting your figure, no phone in sight. He slipped on a pair of shoes and grabbed his jacket from next to the door. “I think the jetlag might be stting in. I’ll be right back.”

He stepped out onto the back patio, the snow crunching beneath his fluffy slippers. You didn’t even turn when you heard the door close behind him, and that’s how he knew something was wrong.

“Baby… what are you doing out in the cold?” He came up next to you, curling an arm over your shoulders. “Were they too much? Should I tell them to back off a bit?” Finally, you turned to face him. Your eyes were wet and red, but you had a soft little smile on your face. “Aw, baby.”

“I love them so much, Mat.”

“C’mere.” He pulled you against his chest, rubbing his hands up and down your cold arms. You curled your arms around his waist, snuggling in under his winter jacket. “Babe, you should be wearing something heavier out here. I don’t want you getting sick.” Still, you stayed where you were, tucked into his jacket with him and hiding away from the snow and the world. “I’m glad you love my family so much. I hope you can tell they love you too. And if they’re too much, I’ll tell them, okay?”

“I know.”

“Just let me know. I know how you get uncomfortable when you receive this much love, but I hope you know you deserve it, okay? You’re absolutely amazing.” At his words, you lifted your face from the comfort of his chest, eyes red and face hot, streaked with tears. Snowflakes melted on impact, and Mat’s thumb brushed away the wetness. “Please don’t cry, baby.”

“I’m just… so overwhelmed. In the best way possible, I promise.”

“That’s good.”

“And I’m getting sleepy.”

“Jetlag finally catching up to you?” You nodded, burrowing back into the warmth of his jacket. He smiled, squeezing you against him. “Let’s go to bed, yeah, sweetheart?”

“Nooooo, I just wanna stay like this.”

“Okay, okay.” He smiled and lifted his hands in mock surrender. “We’ll stay out here for a little, but we gotta go in when you get cold.” Mat knew the reason you didn’t want to go back inside yet. One, because you didn’t want to cry in front of his family, but also because after spending the whole day with them, you were starved of sweet, gentle moments like this, alone with Mat. He knew you loved his family, but God, how you loved him. You’d been holding back all your hugs and kisses today, keeping low on the PDA in front of his family, and you’d gotten needy. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to his parents, saying the two of you were gonna be done for the night and wanted a little alone time, and he knew they’d understand and head to bed. The snow was picking up now, so Mat put his phone back in his pocket and pulled you with him against the wall of the house, your arms tucked under his fuzzy coat and holding tight around his waist, watching the snow fall and enjoying the comforting silence of the world.

“Do you know how much people love you?”

“Mat…” You smiled and hid your face shyly.

“No, do you know? Everyone who meets you falls a little bit in love with you. Everyone. You just have this… this loveable nature to you/ You’re the sweetest, kindest, most amazing person I know.” You didn’t respond, but Mat saw the smile on your face and felt the way your arms squeezed around his torso. “Remember how earlier, I was talking to my dad? You know what he was saying? He said ‘the way you look at (Y/N), that’s how I looked at your mom’. And how he still does.” That got your attention, and you lifted your face to look at him, at the pretty, genuine love in his dark eyes. “Hey, there’s that pretty face!” Your hands slid further up his back, and you perched up on your tiptoes, reaching up for a soft kiss that Mat gladly met you halfway for. “I’m serious when I say I love you, okay?”

“I know.”

“I get that you didn’t have the best relationship with your family, and they weren’t the healthiest, especially when it came to showing these types of emotions, but I’m gonna make sure you get used to it. Cause you’re gonna be in my life for a long, long time.”

“Forever?”

“If you’ll have me forever.”

Everything went silent, save for the soft falling of snow, at that whispered promise. The tears filled your eyes again, just so, so happy that you had someone like Mat in your life, and that he was so understanding and patient with you.

“If you’ll have me forever, my family would be more than happy to call you one of us. You could spend all your birthdays, holidays, and celebrations here, and they’d love you. I’d love you. I do. You’d never feel unloved again, if you’ll have me forever.”

“Mat are... Are you proposing?”

He shook his head quickly. “No. Not yet, not officially. Just take this as a… warning.”

You laughed a little bit. “A warning, Mat?”

“No, ugh… um, how about a promise. Yeah, a promise. A promise that if you’ll have me forever, I’ll do nothing but show you how damn loveable you are. I know I can’t erase the years of pain… God, or the trauma that your family put you through, but I promise you I’m gonna try my hardest. You deserve so much better than what they’d given to you, and I’ll give that to you.” Mat saw the tears in your eyes and swooped down to kiss your cheeks repeatedly. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to make you cry, baby.” He could say so, so much more, but he wanted to take care of you first. “Enough of my sappy rambling, yeah? My toes are freezing. Can we go in?” He saw you glance down at his feet and immediately started giggling.

“Nice slippers, grandpa.”

“They’re cozy.” He grinned, happy to see you smiling again. He had grabbed his dad’s shoes to come out, knowing you found his silly dad-fashion funny. “Now, let’s get to bed, sleepyhead.” He pulled you back into the warm, quiet house and led the way up to his bedroom, happy to finally have some time to just cuddle up under the blankets along with you. But as you fell asleep, tucked safely in his arms with a content, peaceful smile, he could fall asleep along with you. Instead, he lay there, watching you for hours, his thoughts filled with his dad’s words from earlier and quietly, secretly, he was writing long lines of phrases he wanted to say to you, phrases that would one day become part of his proposal.

I promise I’ll keep you safe, I promise I’ll keep you smiling and loved... if you’ll have me forever.

[fatesdeepdive]

Entry 35: Oops! All Supports Volume #5

Time for one last chunk of Supports with the old Hoshidans before we get a bunch of new ones.

Support: Corrin/Saizo 

C: Saizo spies on Corrin because she's a royal from the country they're at war with.

B: Corrin, exhausted from looking over her back to check for Saizo, has trouble moving boxes. Saizo sneaks up and carries the boxes for her, because he's honorable.

A: Corrin gives Saizo candy, which he despises. Saizo tells her that he's done spying on her, because she's so fucking stupid that she couldn't possibly be scheming anything. Corrin decides that the two of them are friends, much to Saizo's chagrin.

S: Saizo says he fell in love with Corrin while stalking her.

Review: Overall, pretty decent. Saizo stalking Corrin and Corrin just shouting at him to get him to come out is fun.

Support: Kaze/Sakura

C: Kaze finds Sakura crying because she lost her doll. Sakura is embarrassed, but Kaze understands that it's important to her and helps her look.

B: Kaze helps Sakura find her doll, which was taken to a shop for repairs by Subaki. Sakura pretends she doesn't sleep with the doll.

A: Sakura shows Kaze all of her dolls, one for each of her siblings.

S: Sakura asks Kaze to see her as a woman, not a child, because she's an adult with a woman's feelings. Something contradicted by the rest of this Support.

Review: This one is cute. Sakura acts like a kid and Kaze is nice to her, treating her lost doll as serious. I’d really like this one, if it didn’t remind me that Sakura is a child soldier who marries much older men.

Support: Jakob/Setsuna

C: Setsuna falls into a pit. Jakob sarcastically asks Setsuna if she's having fun, which tricks her into wanting to stay in the pit.

B: Setsuna falls into another pit. Jakob makes fun of her.

A: Jakob falls into a trap himself and begs Setsuna for help; Setsuna tries to help him out but falls in too.

S: Jakob decides to babysit Setsuna to keep her from falling into pits, an excuse to spend more time with her. The two of them get married.

Review: As I’ve stated previously, Jakob and Setsuna are my favorite characters. Jakob’s dry snark pairs nicely with Setsuna’s stupidity. My only complaint is that it isn’t quite as funny as I hoped and Jakob is a bit of a dick.

Support: Azura/Hayato

C: Hayato asks Azura to tell him about all the places she's seen while traveling the world. She says no and Hayato monologues that she's hiding something.

B: Azura apologizes for being closed off, explaining that her childhood wasn't very happy. With a little more prodding, she describes several beautiful things she saw as a kid.

A: Azura describes more places and thanks Hayato for helping her remember the good times in her past.

S: Hayato proposes to Azura, saying they can visit all of those nice places together. Azura says turns him down and says she'd rather just be friends. Despite this, the two get married and have a kid immediately after this scene.

Review: Not bad, although it does raise one question: how much traveling did Azura do before her mother and her arrived in Nohr? I assumed it wasn’t too much travel, and that it happened when she was very young, but apparently not. I suppose she could be talking about traveling done later, but she was mostly confined to the castle in both of her later homes.

Support: Felicia/Ryoma

C: Felicia, wanting to be friends with Ryoma for Corrin's sake, makes Ryoma rice balls. They contain dark chocolate, which makes Ryoma gag.

B: Felicia tries again, this time filling them with massive lumps of salt.

A: Felicia, on Ryoma's suggestion, makes a Nohrian dish: sandwiches. As a child who watched Pokemon as a kid, this confuses me, because I thought sandwiches and riceballs were the same thing. Surprisingly, the sandwich is good.

S: Felicia and Ryoma eat together, her making sandwiches and him rice balls. Ryoma proposes because Felicia is cute.

Review: A simple, but cute Support.

Support: Oboro/Silas

C: Silas tries to befriend Oboro, but she turns him away because she despises Nohrians to the point of wanting to kill Silas for just existing.

B: Silas, after finding out about Oboro's parents, apologizes to her. She threatened to commit a hate crime, so I think she should be the one apologizing, but whatever. Oboro says she's cool with Silas now apparently because they fought together. Silas tells her that lots of Nohrians are good people, which Oboro kinda accepts but not really.

A: After Silas saves a Hoshidan village from Nohrian bandits off-screen, Oboro asks him if he only did it to prove his loyalty. Silas explains that he's a decent goddamn person, in less harsh words.

S: Oboro apologizes for being awful. Silas proposes and Oboro accepts.

Review: Yeah, this one isn’t great. Oboro is at her most awful here, and the game really doesn’t treat her harshly for that, with Silas treating her as just being misguided. Like, Oboro flat out says she wants to murder Silas for his race and he just shrugs it off. Oboro is a shitty person. And this problem is compounded by the fact that Nohr is constantly played as cartoonishly evil and Hoshido as unquestionably good, meaning that Oboro’s bullshit is somewhat justified by the narrative.

Support: Hinata/Mozu

C: Hinata, scammed by a pretty shopkeeper, pays way too much for supplies. Mozu explains that he needs to haggle.

B: Mozu teaches Hinata to haggle by figuring out people’s personalities.

A: Hinata says that haggling is like fighting.

S: Hinata asks Mozu out because she taught him to look at people differently.

Review: Not bad.

Support: Hana/Takumi

C: Takumi finds Hana training early in the morning. Hana suggests they train together, like they did when they were younger, and Takumi runs away.

B: Takumi reveals he stopped training with Hana after she kicked his ass in front of Sakura. He claims that it was because he held back to avoid beating up his sister's best friend, but I prefer the idea that Takumi got beat up by a child then ran away and never fought her again.

A: Hana swears that she'll protect Takumi to restore her honor. Takumi tells her to focus on protecting Sakura, because Hana really cares about her.

S: Hana reports in everytime she defends Sakura as an excuse to talk to Takumi. Takumi says he likes her too.

Review: A fairly bland Support, all things considered. The stuff about Hana wanting to protect Sakura is fine, but other than that it's fairly mediocre.

Support: Azama/Kagero

C: Azama asks about Kagero's clothing. Kagero tells Azama to fuck off.

B: Azama tries talking to Kagero. She puts a knife to his throat and tells him to never talk to her again.

A: Kagero says she should probably do research into ninja clothes.

S: Kagero explains that ninja clothes are good for stealth. Azama says he likes her.

Review: This one went from zero to one hundred really fast. And I’d call Kagero out for being insanely violent when Azama did nothing to her, but I’ve read his other Supports. Threatening to kill him if he talks to you is completely reasonable. Still, this one completely fails to be a romantic Support line.

Support: Ryoma/Silas

C: Ryoma asks about Corrin's childhood in Nohr. Silas explains that they played together as kids. Ryoma tells Silas to stay with Corrin, because it's important for her to have friends.

B: Silas confides that he was a lonely, isolated child before meeting Corrin. Ryoma and Silas bond over their mutual love of Corrin.

A: Silas swears a blood oath out of their respect for each other.

Review: Not bad. I especially like that this is the only Silas Support thus far to actually give a good reason for Silas’s loyalty. Him being a lonely kid with Corrin as his only friend is a great bit of characterization that should have been mentioned in their Support.

[blackjack-15]

Avenge My Twistery Depth — Thoughts on: Trail of the Twister (TOT)

Previous Metas: SCK/SCK2, STFD, MHM, TRT, FIN, SSH, DOG, CAR, DDI, SHA, CUR, CLK, TRN, DAN, CRE, ICE, CRY, VEN, HAU, RAN, WAC

Hello and welcome to a Nancy Drew meta series! 30 metas, 30 Nancy Drew Games that I’m comfortable with doing meta about. Hot takes, cold takes, and just Takes will abound, but one thing’s for sure: they’ll all be longer than I mean them to be.

Each meta will have different distinct sections: an Introduction, an exploration of the Title, an explanation of the Mystery, a run-through of the Suspects. Then, I’ll tackle some of my favorite and least favorite things about the game, and finish it off with ideas on how to improve it.

If any game requires an extra section or two, they’ll be listed in the paragraph above, along with links to previous metas.

These metas are not spoiler free, though I’ll list any games/media that they might spoil here: TOT, WAC, mentions of GTH.

The Intro:

Let’s talk about Trail of the Twister, shall we? No clever intro, no pun, no sassy statement on the quality (whether lacking or overflowing) of the game…let’s just Talk.

Like I said at the beginning of my WAC meta, TOT is one of two games that doesn’t really fit into a category besides it and WAC demonstrating HER’s growing pains. The world opens (kinda), the characters get a little deeper (kinda) and a few new things are tried with plots and character (to varying degrees of success). Both WAC and TOT — but especially TOT — represent a shift in the tone of the games and their approach. You can ascribe this to a lot of reasons — an aging fanbase, technology marching on, a new writer in the mix — but you really can’t ignore it, no matter if you’re a Classic Games Elitist or a Newer Games Snob (or neither one).

To paraphrase a fabulous song, there’s something there that wasn’t there before.

This is not me saying in any way that TOT is a fabulous — or even moderately successful — game. In fact, it whiffs a lot where WAC hit solidly, which makes playing them one after the other a sort of chore; WAC is weighed down by the knowledge of what comes next (after such a brief respite from games like ICE, HAU, and RAN), and TOT’s repetitive chore list seems even bleaker after the snack shop and secret societies of WAC.

Which is truly unfortunate, because hiding behind the rat traps and the car chases (or drives, if you drive like a normal person in this game) and the endless moon chunk offerings is one heck of a story. Unfinished and beleaguered and (to my suspicions) censored as it is, there is a definite, multilayered, morally ambiguous, honest-to-moon-chunk story in TOT.

Like I said, something there that wasn’t there before.

Playing through the games in order, it seems like the reason WAC is so solid is, in part, because the games before it have so little cohesive story as to be laughable. Playing them out of order will show you that though WAC does come off a little better than it actually is due to the games that came before it, it’s also actually a step-up from a lot of games in the complexity of its plot and characters. At this point in the series that’s about to happen a lot, but WAC is the first real instance where you get it. Like I said, these two games mark a tonal and approach-based shift in the games.

So let’s turn our attention to TOT.

There are a lot of things that bog down this game — it feels sometimes as if you’re simply going through Farmville-esque tasks to get from Point A to Point B — but its plot and characters (save in one large instance) aren’t actually the culprits. Surprisingly enough, we have a mystery here with enough twists, turns, small crimes, and red herrings to make for a perfectly serviceable plot with relatively well-developed (for the length of the game) characters (whom I’ll go into more below).

A huge difference from a lot of the games is that we have a prominent unseen character who isn’t the one who hired Nancy or who is part of the historical background. Brooke’s actions actively move the plot along no matter what Nancy does, and I do like that the world of TOT goes on spinning (as it were) without Nancy driving everything.

You get the sense that Nancy truly was just dropped into the middle of this without having any control over the situation, and that she spends the entire game (or most of it) playing catch-up, rather than being on the scene for the crime(s) or arriving shortly thereafter.

In TOT, this sabotage has been going on for a while — the competition is nearly over, in fact — and Nancy has to actually do some detective work to even get caught up, let alone to try to step a few feet in front of the guilty party.

One interesting thing is what TOT and WAC share: they both feature casts who are only a few years off of Nancy’s age; in WAC, they’re a tiny bit younger, while in TOT, they’re a tiny bit older. Nancy, being Nancy, is much more in her element with the ages of her suspects in TOT than she is with high schoolers — with how much time Nancy spends around people significantly older than her, I’d be shocked if she got along well with high schoolers when she was in high school herself.

As a side note, I know it’s sort of a fandom thing that Nancy gets along well with children, but honestly outside of Lucas, it’s not something we really see (no, I’m not counting pelting Freddie with snow 10 times sans mercy as getting along with children) — and honestly Lucas is just charming, so I see no reason why Nancy wouldn’t get along with him. Generally speaking, kids who grow up the way Nancy has [especially as an only child] are far more comfortable with ‘adults’ — well established, 35/40+ adults, who make up the majority of her suspect pools — than they are with peers or children.

There’s also a great deal of care taken with making all the suspects (mostly) equally likely for a large portion of the game; it’s not until past the halfway point that a suspect (Chase) is cleared due to his confession of a different crime, and even then, he doesn’t really become Nancy’s helper, as is the usual case with cleared suspects. This is actually one of the few games where Nancy doesn’t really have a helper; she relies on herself, the Hardy Boys, and (questionably) P. G. Krolmeister to get the job done.

And speaking of the Hardy Boys…you knew an intro wouldn’t be complete without my mentioning them, hush.

The Hardy Boys are arguably the set piece that benefit most from Nik’s writing (and yes, I’m going to ascribe it to him; he’s the most prominent variable). Don’t get me wrong, the Hardy Boys were great before, but the Nik games are where they start attaining a place of more prominence and solidify their distinct personalities other than “focused killjoy and playful scamp”. In this game, you get more of Frank’s protectiveness (directed towards Nancy) and Joe’s actual sleuthing abilities — not the least of which because this game coincides with that DS Masterpiece “Treasure on the Tracks”.

Oh yeah, we’re going there. It’s relevant.

Treasure on the Tracks, as mentioned, was a game for the Nintendo DS (and the only one, mind you) focusing on the Hardy Boys. In the game (as in TOT), they’re tracking down the Romanov treasure with the help of a surprising ally — Samantha Quick herself. Samantha is under orders (from who, she never says, but a future game makes it obvious) to help the boys find the treasure aboard the royal train that the Romanovs used to own.

And yes, I would have loved that to be a joint Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys PC game, but I’ll push the bitterness aside for the facts. Which are that this game has a rad premise and would have been a very cool addition to the ND series…but I digress. Regardless, that’s what the boys are doing during TOT, so we get little hints to their investigation as well as having them help Nancy out.

I love that the Hardy Boys have an actual mystery that they’re investigating, as beginning with this game we see a lot more of their ‘agent’ side being brought out. It’s nice to feel that Nancy isn’t alone out there fighting against the forces of evil, and gives excuses to have the Hardy Boys in the games more, so I’m a big fan in general. It also helps build them up as investigators; while they offer hints to Nancy a lot, we don’t get to see them doing a lot of spy/detective work, and it’s lovely to be able to see it here.

And I love their sibling banter. It’s obvious that JVS and Rob Jones have a lot of fun with their roles, and it really lightens and enhances any Nancy Drew game that they’re in.

The last interesting thing that I’ll point out before diving into the game itself is what TOT does for the world of Nancy Drew. Beginning with this game, we start the tradition of each game leading directly into the next one; for her help in TOT, Krolmeister sends her to his favorite ryokan in Japan, which leads to her being hired for CAP; her absence and fight with Ned in CAP lead her back home for the Clues Challenge in ASH, and so on and so forth.

It really makes the world feel solid and cohesive, and lets our characters grow and shift and change without making it feel episodic or sudden. The Nancy of SPY is quite different from the Nancy of TOT in how she behaves and tackles mysteries, but her character growth throughout the games in between make it feel right and natural — like actual character growth.

The Title:

As a title, “Trail of the Twister” isn’t bad — it’s got that alliteration that ND books tend to like doing, and makes it feel a little classic. It also gets a play with words in there — you’re tracing the actual trail of the actual twister, and you’re also walking through the evidence left behind (aka a trail) of a twisting plot. Solid, if not exceptional, with its only real detriment being the hilarious acronym (TOT).

The book it’s (loosely) based off of is called “The Mystery of Tornado Alley” which, obvious to anyone with eyes, is a much worse title while telling us the same thing. It also doesn’t apply to the game as much – you’re not figuring out a mystery as much as unwinding the tangled threads of character motivations — and is supremely clunky to boot.

The Mystery:

Called in by P.G. Krolmeister to go undercover, Nancy joins a team of storm-chasers bent on winning a grant for their research — and beating the opposing team that wants the same thing. Nancy begins the mystery by finding a tin box full of cash (payment for an as-of-yet unspecified action) and it spirals from there, putting the not-so-amateur teen sleuth through her paces learning about tornados and storms, taking pictures, and trying her best to keep everyone happy and working towards the money.

It’s not as easy as it sounds, however. There are competing forces at work outside (and sometimes within) the two teams, and the personalities of the storm-chasers that Nancy must investigate mean that no one trusts anyone else. Things continue to go wrong and Nancy chases down the clues until the mother of all tornados hits town, and our culprit takes advantage of the distraction…

I mentioned above some censorship that I suspect went on in this game, and I’ll talk about it here. Given the darker themes of this game and the mentions of death and serious injury (more than most other games in the series at this point), I would say part of the reason why our story is a little more…displeasing, especially by the end, is that HER was really intent on the 10 part of the 10+ rating.

There’s lots to explore — the Ma storyline that goes nowhere, the collateral damage of these tornadoes, the fact that our cast is filled with genuinely unpleasant criminals — and yet it gets glanced over while feeling like the game is building up to it. Like CRE and ICE where I postulated a lot of the attention went to the new engine, I’m going to postulate here that the reason why we have hanging plot threads and injustice at the end (which I’ll talk about later) is that the game was censored by the HER bigwigs to ensure it still fit in a 10+ rating.

As a mystery, like I said above, there’s absolutely nothing wrong here. We’ve got plenty of means/motive/opportunity spread out in our cast (and in the periphery cast, just to keep things interesting), the threads and smaller crimes/wrongdoings/etc. are realistic in scope and in motive to keep them hidden, and it’s the personalities of the suspects that give us our conflict and tension, rather than random “interferences” by the writers. And speaking of our suspects, let’s go to the other area that TOT does (almost) nothing wrong.

The Suspects:

First off is Chase Releford, a junior who took Scott’s class for a science credit who got super interested in the actual work. The team’s handyman, Chase has noticed (and fixed, and fixed again) the equipment acting up, and is being stretched pretty thin in order to keep it all shipshape and in working order.

He’s also one of Nancy’s sources of Pa Pennies, if you wanna spend hours doing circuit boards.

As a culprit, Chase is a great option (which is a sentiment you’ll hear repeated for all of our suspects, never fear). He’s secretly spending his time looking for oil with Pa’s divining rods, which puts two crimes on his conscience (stealing the rods and not working on company time) and helps the team fall even further behind. It’s important to note that for a large chunk of this game, the likelihood of the suspect also hinges on how much they want Scott to fail, and Chase is pretty much the only one without any real anger towards Scott.

The owner of the local general store, Pa Ochs might be a surprising option to put ahead of Chase in order of culprit likelihood/suitability, but I stand by it. Having lost his wife (Betsy “Ma” Ochs) to a tornado (the warning sirens, which were Scott’s responsibility, didn’t go off), Pa alone mans the counter, helping Nancy find everything she needs — for a price, of course.

The price being annoyingly hard to get Pa Pennies. Unless you exploit a glitch.

Here’s where we start with the culprit possibilities that have an actual grudge against Scott. Though not as angry as he could be, Pa is deeply hurt by the loss of his wife Betsy, and has grounds for an axe to grind with Scott. As much as I would have loved to have the ‘friendly general store owner’ be the culprit, it would have been like a mix of DOG’s Emily and FIN’s Joseph (minus the Crazy), and it’s (sadly) best to leave that ground alone without re-treading it.

Frosty Harlow is next up; a second-year grad student in digital media, Frosty got his nickname (his real name is Tobias) from his storm photography and is, well, trying to re-capture that lightning in a bottle.

He also screams like a little girl. So that’s fun.

Like Chase and Pa, Frosty is a wonderful option for a culprit. His crime is selling university property (the video of the storm he and Nancy shot) to an aspiring photographer (who happens to be on the rival team) to help them get a toehold into the business, along with working with Debbie to try to stress Scott into quitting.

What really makes Frosty stand out is that, unlike Chase, Frosty doesn’t feel bad about what he did at all. He also holds far more animosity towards Scott than Pa does, and has a little more…innate anger as a person.

If you haven’t noticed by now, we’re going in order of “worst” culprit option to “best” (and then the actual culprit), and it really says something about how fleshed out these characters already are that we start with people who are solid options to begin with.

Though only appearing vocally and for a few minutes total of the game’s runtime, I’m going to list Brooke Tavanah as our next most likely culprit — in part because, well, she kind of is our culprit. The leader of the rival storm-chasing team, Brooke offered Scott money to sabotage his own team to let her team win the grant — an offer that he takes her up on.

Of course, Brooke isn’t the only one sleeping with the enemy (so to speak) to ensure her team’s victory; her videographer, Erin, is apparently so talentless as to need to buy footage from Scott’s team as well.

Things don’t exactly look great for the Kingston University team — as they can’t really get ahead even through sabotage and skullduggery, and one does wonder if they’d even be able to put the grant to good use. That, of course, is not the point; Brooke wants her team to win, come hell or high…wind…and a little thing like scientific ability isn’t going to stop her.

(Interestingly enough, this is the first of three times we’ll see Kingston University pop up; we meet their alumni again in TMB and DED).

I love that Brooke is guilty, because so often in Nancy Drew games the tendency is to implicate an unseen character and then to have that implication be a poorly done red herring. Instead, Brooke isn’t a distraction, nor a smoke screen — she’s just another piece of the puzzle.

Our last non-Culprit (by the games’ common definition) suspect is Debbie Kircum, a recent PhD graduate who is on her fifth time working with Scott in chase season, and who has gotten a lucrative offer to teach at a university in New York.

Worrying that Scott would let his resentment towards the college hurt their chances in the competition, Debbie leads the conspiracy to stress him out so much that he just quits. I’ll talk more about this later, but it is both one of my favorite and least favorite things about this game. For now, I’ll say that her plan works…but not the way that she planned; for her and lots of other suspects in this and upcoming games, the quote “the price for getting what you want is getting what you once wanted” works perfectly to describe their arcs.

As a culprit, (as Debbie fully qualifies as a culprit), Debbie certainly has the shortsightedness and nastiness that Nancy Drew culprits tend to have. She’s extremely good at getting what she wants…but see the quote in the previous paragraph.

She also over-contours her cheeks so much that it looks like someone slapped her with an open compact of bronzer.

That takes us to our final culprit and character, Scott Varnell, genius professor of meteorology and the leader of the Canute team. Scott is my personal favorite character not just because he’s the most interesting, but because he’s a tragic figure who isn’t historical/dead, and those are a bit of a rarity in Nancy Drew games, especially at this point.

Being an expert on tornadoes yet denied tenure based on his personality, rather than his academic prowess (a gripe I share as it applies to jobs/academia), Scott holds a grudge against those who don’t recognize his contributions to meteorology and to the study of tornadoes specifically. Unbeknownst to him, two members of his four-man team have been conspiring to stress him out so badly that he’ll just quit, as they think he’ll be a hindrance (again, due to his personality) in winning the competition.

Scott is in some ways the obvious option, and yet the game never turns into a howdunnit. Throughout the mystery he tends to be the prime suspect, but is also the prime victim — a dichotomy we’ve never seen before in the Nancy Drew Games. I’ll talk more about Scott below (a sentence increasingly common in this meta), but I both love and hate him as the culprit, and that’s something new (and interesting) that TOT brings as well.

The Favorite:

Don’t worry, we’ll get into TOT’s myriad flaws soon enough, but for now I want to focus on what it does right.

The first thing the game nails is the Hardy Boys. Their inclusion, their plot, their characterization, the voice acting — all of it is nigh-flawless, and is by far the most enjoyable part of the game. Don’t get me wrong, the Hardy Boys are usually quite far up there on the list of things I love about a game with them in it, but they really start to shine more in TOT, gaining some character development, plot relevance, and just overall depth.

Oddly (or perhaps not oddly at all) I don’t have a favorite moment nor a favorite puzzle in this game; barring that, I’ll talk about some of the great threads to the game, rather than any particular moment/puzzle that stands out.

I love that we get new and interesting layers to our story and characters. As I mentioned briefly above, there’s a real sense of the world existing before Nancy’s arrival, which works wonders for the world of the games, and our characters here are more layered, more distinct, and more ‘realistic’ (for the value of ‘realism’ in stories) than they ever have been before.

This is a game unafraid to deal with the topics of death and mistakes, and that accounts for part of the depth to the game as well. No, not the whole “Where’s Ma” thing — which I fully believe to just be a script that didn’t fire/didn’t stop firing in the game’s code after finding the newspaper that says exactly what happened to Ma — I’m talking about Scott’s mistake in the tornado warning system, Debbie and Frosty’s mistakes in dealing with Scott (which I’ll talk more about), and even Brooke’s miscalculations that lead to the ending of the game. Everyone here deals with the fallout of their mistakes, and it’s how they handle it that forms the basis for our plot.

It’s a seemingly small thing, but I love the sheer level of detail in this game. You can click on everything, read everything, explore everywhere — there’s a lot of information crammed into the game that sometimes you won’t get until the second or third replay (that is, if you have the stomach to play through this game repeatedly).

The use of our tertiary NPCs (Brooke, Krolmeister, Erin) is also inspired; they help the world feel whole and varied rather than existing simply for the benefit of the game, and show that Nancy doesn’t have control over everything when she’s investigating — and that she can be wrong in her focus of investigating (whether because she pays too much or not enough attention to the ‘minor’ characters).

Speaking of characters, I also love that our characters in this game – our suspects — are able to be fully formed without (on purpose, I feel) being particularly likable. It’s always fun to get a cast of characters that are hostile to Nancy, but TOT’s characters are slightly different from that: they just don’t care about her. She’s another intern to them, nigh-invisible except when they need a chore done. Nancy also doesn’t really try to befriend anyone because of it, and I like that too. Sometimes, a game should just be 1 vs 4, with some backup in the wings courtesy of phone friends.

The last facet of the game that I love is Scott himself as a character. Sure he’s cantankerous, blunt, egotistical, and a thousand other things, but the game is very clear that these ‘faults’ don’t make him anything other than what he is — a brilliant meteorologist and the foremost mind when it comes to tornadoes and tornadogenesis. The university undervalues him, but the team really can’t function without him, sabotage or no sabotage.

His motive for the sabotage isn’t the money nor fame — it’s simple tit-for-tat. For such a complex game (note, I’m still not saying it’s a fun or good game), our ultimate motive is deceptively simple: do unto others what they have done unto you. Tired of being devalued and having his worth judged on his personality rather than his work, he decides that if the university doesn’t care enough to keep him around (and for his worth as a professor, look at how accomplished and passionate his team of former students is), then they don’t care to keep up their program either.

It’s hard not to sympathize with that, especially if you’re the kind of person who’s been valued based on any defects in your personality — rather than your ability to do a job and do it well — and been found wanting. Whether you’re too serious (or not serious enough), too flighty (or too inflexible), or any other stupid “personality defect” that the workforce loves to throw around, we’ve all heard it before. Scott’s thrown into an unfair situation and — wrongly or not — decides that his troubles are going to have trouble with him.

The last thing I’ll add on the topic of Scott for this section is that I do love that Debbie and Frosty create their own villain. In figuring that Scott’s personality is going to prevent them from getting the grant (never mind the 4 other years that Debbie’s been on this team with him where it hasn’t been a problem), they decide to screw him over presumptively — and thus create a Scott who actually does want to prevent them from getting the grant. It’s usually a mark of a solid story (and solid writing in general) where the villain is created not from some problem inherent in them, but because they’re perceived to be a problem in the future — and thus live down to the expectation.

The Un-Favorite:

The problem with everything TOT does right — and that’s nearly a thousand words about what it does right above — is that it never combines to make a game that’s enjoyable to play. Before I go into the specifics, I do want to make that clear; TOT is a fascinating game to think and write about, but it’s honestly nigh-unplayable. The puzzles and chores are laborious (and repeated ad nauseum), pieces of the plot don’t make sense, and the ending is the bleakest in the series until GTH’s multiple endings took the cake.

A game should be well-written, complex, and interesting, but it just has to be fun to play as well. It has to. And that seems to have been forgotten during the course of making TOT. My least favorite moment is the ending of the game (more on that below), but I don’t have a least favorite puzzle — on the basis that most of the puzzles are equally bad. There’s no real standout…but that’s not a good thing.

Now let’s get into some of the bits and parts of the game that I really despise.

The handling of Scott is one of my favorite parts of the game, but it’s also my least favorite part of the game as well. They’ve set up a character who firmly believes that everything ends poorly, that he’ll never profit no matter what, and that, ultimately, no matter how hard he tries, nothing will go the way it should. And then the game confirms that worldview to the end. There’s no other option; no matter what Scott does or doesn’t do, no matter if he tries his best or blows it off, the end result is the same, and that’s a tragedy. Sure, you can argue it’s his actions that led him to a bad ending, but he only took those actions because he was heading to a bad ending anyway.

The feeling you get at the end of the game isn’t a feeling of justice served, nor success — it’s pity in a way that’s never been cultivated for any criminal up to this point in the series. And it’s not cathartic — it’s just more misery.

The other huge thing that I hate about this game ties into it — there really is no justice. The supposed ‘happy ending’ is Debbie getting people from both teams to ‘win’ the grant (where does it ultimately go — Canute or Kingston? Can it count as winning if there’s only one team? HER certainly didn’t bother to think about these things)…but Debbie’s hands are just as filthy — and I think more so — than Scott’s are.

Debbie leads Frosty in conspiring to make Scott quit and actually created their own monster — does she even know Scott at all? He’s lead a team through at least the last 4 years, probably more, and not had a problem; why now? Power? Greed? Pride? Whichever way you spin it, she and Frosty are guilty.

Frosty and Erin (of the Kingston Team) are also guilty on a separate charge; Erin for buying the footage and Frosty for selling it. If Brooke and Scott are kicked off, Frosty and Erin (at least) should also go for the same conspiracy charge. Everyone on the team (excepting possibly Chase) knowingly sabotaged their team; why is Scott the only one punished? Why does Debbie (and Frosty, and Erin) get off scot-free (pun intended) to win the prize, despite everything?

When I say that there’s no justice nor success here, this is what I mean. The whole thing stinks from top to bottom, and any way you look at it, a culprit walks.

Honestly, the ending should have just been “Chase, guilty only of petty theft, led the team (of himself and Pa) and was given the grant, which they donated to a charity for tornado victims”. Kingston actively cheated and Canute doesn’t deserve it either. In a game where everyone deserves to lose, declaring a winner just leaves a bad taste in my mouth — and a black mark on the game.

The Fix:

So how would I fix Trail of the Twister?

My feeling is that if you’re going to go with a downer ending — which TOT is — then go for a full one. Have Nancy discover everyone’s crimes — and I do mean everyone’s — and report to Krolmeister, asking what he wants her to do. Don’t forget, Nancy’s got an actual client in this game, and can’t go off half-cocked like she tends to in her more informal mysteries.

In the end, as nearly everyone would be disqualified, the competition should go to a third party — a storm chasing team that’s not Kingston nor Canute — and create chances for less corrupt institutions to study tornadoes at a level they haven’t been able to before. Sure, our suspects would lose, but, honestly, outside Chase…does anyone deserve to win?

I’d also be a fan of Scott getting a second chance due to outside sabotage (directed solely at him) with a job opportunity to consult for storm chasers. It’d be an arena where he’d be seen as the expert he is, without having to deal with the namby-pamby bureaucracy that infects universities (and that he hates anyway). He’d get the name recognition and the ability to actually do work in his field that he needs without being put in situations where he can’t help but fail. Honestly, I’d prefer that P. G. Krolmeister offered it (while saying he’s going to be keeping an eye on him), but really anything would do.

Exposing the crimes of everyone – and focusing on more than just Scott’s — would be the quickest way to improve the story of the game. The puzzles, on the other hand, need to be completely redone; a mix of ostensibly tornado-related intern-type chores (like the circuit boards) and more detective-type puzzles (fingerprinting suspects for a match on the tin bribe box, tracking everyone’s movements, solving codes used for communication) would be a big help in making TOT not just feel like a list of chores with a bad ending.

Oh, and fix the broken code leading Nancy to ask about a man’s dead wife over and over again. She lacks tact as it is.

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Sixty Two

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

October 5th, 1992

“So...what exactly is a trust fund?” Emile asked, cocking his head to the side.

“It’s a bank account where your money can stay safe and sound until you can spend it as an adult,” his grandfather said. “When you’re twenty one, you’ll be able to use it for whatever you want.”

“That’s ten years from now!” Emile groaned. “That’s gonna take forever!”

“It will creep up on you faster than you think,” his grandfather said. “But your grandmother wanted to make sure you’d be responsible with the money, so that’s why you have to wait.”

Emile sighed. He understood, but he didn’t like it. “Does this mean Mom and Dad aren’t gonna give me an allowance any more?”

“I don’t think so!” his grandfather laughed. “After all, the money is of no use if you can’t exactly use it yet! They should still give you money you can use for whatever you want as an allowance.”

“Oh! That’s okay then,” and Emile ran off to finish the book he had been reading before his grandfather called him in to talk about Grandma’s will.

  May 3rd, 2002

Emile could hardly believe it. Today was his twenty first birthday, and he had driven out to the nearest branch of the bank his grandmother used to set up his trust fund all those years ago. He had never been told the exact amount of money that was put in the fund, just given an estimate of somewhere around one hundred fifty thousand dollars.

Grandma definitely knew how to invest, and because his great-grandfather had been a self-starter and had gotten a modest alcohol business off the ground, his grandmother had inherited half of that money, the other half going to his great uncle, her brother. And Emile was the only grandchild she had when she died, so all the money she didn’t leave with his grandfather, she decided to save away for him.

Still, though, Emile’s breath was blown away when he talked to the bank manager and saw the number for himself. Two hundred fifteen thousand dollars. If he wasn’t already sitting down, his legs would have given out from underneath him. He had wondered how his grandparents could afford the house they had, but this number cleared up any questions he might have had.

“God,” Emile breathed, still staring at the number on the screen.

The bank manager looked him over. “You look like you’re about to pass out, do you need some water?”

“I’ll...” Emile choked on his words. “I’ll be okay,” he breathed.

“Your grandmother was a very lucky woman,” the bank manager said.

“Luck was her being born into the family she was. Smarts are what made her be able to get everything she needed and have this much money left over,” Emile said.

The bank manager looked pleased. “You’re rather insightful yourself,” he said. “I know this seems like a lot of money to you, but I hope I don’t have to explain to you how fast that money can go away if you’re not careful.”

“No, believe me, I know,” Emile said, sucking in a breath. “Oh, God. I was planning on investing most, if not all, of the money I inherited, but this is a much larger number than I anticipated.”

The bank manager sniffed a laugh. “Son, this is hardly the largest trust fund this bank has seen.”

“This alone could pay off my college debts,” Emile said, deathly serious. “It’s a lot of money to a broke college kid who’s been working retail to make ends meet with his partner working two jobs just to stay afloat.”

“I see your point,” the manager conceded. “But don’t spend it all in one place, you understand? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” Emile said, swallowing. “I could buy a house, or pay off my debts, or any number of things. But I’ll probably be investing it for the time being, watching it grow a little before I decide exactly what I’m going to do with it.”

“You’re smarter than most of the college-aged kids who get these sorts of funds,” the manager said, leading Emile out. “We’ll have the money ready for withdrawal in a couple days. Until then, think wisely on what you’re going to invest in, all right?”

Emile mutely nodded as the manager left him to walk into the front of the bank, and Remy stood up from where he was waiting on a bench. “Hey, there, stranger!” he teased. “What did they say?”

“Oh, God, let’s get to the car first, okay?” Emile said. “You’re going to freak.”

“That much?” Remy laughed. They left and got into the car, Remy looking over at Emile. “So what was it? One hundred fifty thousand, like your parents said?”

“Apparently...my parents low-balled the estimate,” Emile said, sounding slightly hysterical. “I have over two hundred fifteen thousand dollars in that account.”

“What?!” Remy asked, incredulous. “Emile, you’re rich!”

Emile laughed. “Apparently the bank has had much higher trust funds than even that, but yeah, I’m...I don’t understand how I got to be that lucky.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Remy asked.

“Honestly? I think I’m going to be boring and invest most of it,” Emile said.

“Get more money? Hey, no complaints from me,” Remy said. “You could quit your job and we’d be fine.”

“I’m going to keep working,” Emile said. “That money isn’t going to last forever, and if I use it towards what I want to use it for...well, that’s going to take a huge chunk of change.”

Remy looked over. “What are you thinking of using it for?”

“Possibly a house?” Emile said, driving away, slightly sheepish. “Like. Property and stuff. Health insurance. Boring things that I can suddenly afford. But I want to invest most of it first.”

“Makes sense,” Remy said with a nod.

“Would you want to quit one of your jobs?” Emile asked. “Because I can afford to pay a little more rent now, you only need one job...”

“I mean...” Remy sighed. “It would be nice to only have one job, but I don’t want you to spend any more money on me than you have to.”

“Remy, you’re my boyfriend, of course I’m going to spend money on you now that I have money to spend!” Emile insisted. “You’d better get used to it, because now that we can afford to not go to thrift shops when we wear something through, you’d better believe I’m going to offer to go to retail stores!”

Remy laughed. “Oh, we’re really rolling in it!” he crowed. “We can afford new shirts!”

“You’d better believe it!” Emile exclaimed with a laugh. When his laughter died down, he glanced at Remy. “So, did you apply for the manager position opening up?”

“Yeah, I did,” Remy sighed. “But the manager told me, point-blank, that he didn’t expect me to get it. Nothing against my work ethic, but they wanted someone who had credentials. Like, degree-in-business credentials.” Remy pulled a disgusted face. “As if I didn’t know anything that goes into managing a coffee shop.”

Emile wrinkled his nose. “That sucks.” He considered, and figured now was as good a time to poke the bear as any. “Would you want to start your own shop? In all honesty?”

“I mean, honestly? At this point? Yes,” Remy said. “Neither store is going to promote me, and I don’t want to work two jobs for the rest of my life. I don’t have the funds to buy a property, but if I saved up enough to rent, then maybe I could do my own thing.”

“Rem, you realize that I have enough money to help you on the property front?” Emile asked.

“Emile, no, I would never ask that of you,” Remy said. “I can save money on my own, I’ve been doing that for two months now. And it’s not a lot, but it can add up. If your investments are working out, maybe I can invest in the same things. I could get enough money to start up on my own. Might take a couple years, but I would get the money for the property, as well as the food and the staff and everything needed inside. I could get enough for the first few months of the shop just by saving until December, if I played my cards right.”

“Really?” Emile asked. He had been considering December for checking his funds, checking the market, and getting property for Remy to start the coffee shop. But if this lined up that perfectly, there was no way he could turn it down.

“Really,” Remy confirmed. “You don’t need impossibly huge amounts of money to start up a business if you know what you’re doing, and some of our friends are social butterflies, which means free advertising, and if I come up with my own unique recipes for the shop, and come up with coffee blends that by and large our friends like but the shops I currently work for wouldn’t be caught dead selling, well! I’d be officially in business!”

Emile laughed. “So, that’s something you want to try? You want to try to start your own shop?”

Remy deflated a little. “I want it...but can I actually do it? I mean, I could definitely run a shop, but there’s so many factors I don’t know about. I want to try, to see if I can do it, but if it fails...that’s so much money gone to waste. The biggest hurdle would be the space, and if I can afford the space to give it a try, but I can’t keep the shop afloat, that’s easily thousands of dollars down the drain.”

“Remy, if you think you can do it, I say you save up to give it a try,” Emile said. “You have the confidence and the culinary skill to keep a shop afloat. All it would take is the right advertising and the right people to find you, and you’d have business in no time at all. Go for it. We both invest our money, get the rewards and use them to fund whatever dreams both of us have.”

Remy still seemed uncertain. “I want to, Emile...I really want to. But I can’t stop thinking about the possibility of it going under.”

“If it goes under, it goes under. You get a different job so no one says ‘I told you so’ and we continue on. If you get a good enough property, we might be able to use it as an apartment of sorts,” Remy laughed at that, and Emile smiled as he continued, “It’s not the end of the world if something you try doesn’t succeed, Rem. But I think that this has a really good chance at succeeding.”

Remy nodded. “All right. I’ll save up the money and give it a try for you,” he said. “Do you know what you’re going to do with your money outside investing it?”

“I have a couple ideas, but nothing solid,” Emile said. He didn’t mention that Dice had agreed to take Emile’s job offer and was going to look for Toby. He didn’t want Remy to get his hopes up, and he definitely didn’t want Remy to demand he save the money because he thought it was a fruitless venture.

“Well, when you get some solid plans, let me know, okay?” Remy asked. “Because I want to know if we can get strawberries and blueberries for pancakes for breakfast.”

Emile laughed. “Of course, we can get more fruit. And better ingredients that aren’t just on discount. If you want, we can go shopping right now as a little celebration?”

“Sure! When do you get the money?” Remy asked.

“Couple of days,” Emile laughed. “They couldn’t afford to give me that much money all at once, because it’s a small branch and I’d be taking all of their hundred-dollar bills.”

Remy shook his head. “You’re Mister Rich Kid, now, you realize,” he said. “And you’re never living that title down, not once I let our friends know.”

“Oh, God, I hadn’t even thought about that!” Emile laughed. “Our friends could hardly believe I had a trust fund at all, let alone one that potentially had over a hundred thousand dollars! They’re all going to freak!”

“Even more than I will when this whole day finally sinks in,” Remy said sagely. “It’s going to take some getting used to, having wiggle room in case we screw up.”

Emile turned the car on the road they took to the supermarket. “It’s going to be nice, though,” Emile said. “We buy some food we don’t like, we’re not, y’know, obligated to eat all of it because that’s the only food we have for that night.”

“We can buy stupid things like movies that we don’t know if we like because we didn’t get the chance to see it in theatres,” Remy pointed out.

“We can go to see those movies in the theatre in the first place,” Emile pointed out.

“True!” Remy exclaimed. “Emile. This is. The best!”

Emile laughed.

[demonfox38]

Completed - Zelda II: The Adventure of Link

Oh, my language is going to be vulgar on this one.

So, I'm a crusty millennial who likes old garbage. Most of the media I like is old enough to drink and be a member of the US congress, but probably couldn't be due to the country that produced it. Now, I'd like to think that I've got good reasons to like older media, particularly when it comes to video games. It's a bit hard for my NES to bug me for microtransactions/DLC and emanate the screams of children and man-children alike. But, as much as I like my retro junk, there's one thing I'm very, very happy about regarding modern video games. The variety of game types now-a-days is a blessing. It's rare that someone is stellar at all game types, and I sure have my weaknesses.

It took me a long time to realize that I could be good at video games, and I wholly blame the glut of 1980s platforming games on that.

Look, platforming is not a forgiving genre. Particularly, back in the day where you had characters dying in 1-3 hits before factoring in death pits. It existed then for the reason that fourteen million instakill indie horror games exist now. Instantly killing the player is a lot easier to code than, say, having to track a health bar or their new position as an enemy swats them into a different room. Sometimes, a coder's gotta do what they can to keep themselves sane.

But, from a player's perspective, this style sucks!

Getting good at a platforming game requires practicing the same levels over and over again, developing a sense of your character's inertia and limitations. Without a save state or a warp to narrow in on a particularly troublesome location, it's hard to get learning to stick. You could lose a lot of games and time trying to put it all together. And some poor little character is always suffering because of your ineptitude! Such failure feels like a fork in an electrical socket. Succeeding in these circumstances requires a great deal of emotional resilience and a contrary attitude. And you know what? That's just not something I had as a kid. In fact, one could say I had my aggression and competitive drive scolded out of me. I'm just now getting that back.

So, yeah. I had a little trouble with "Zelda II: The Adventure of Link."

"Zelda II" is part of a trifecta of NES games that get routinely shit on by retro reviewers. Like its peers "Super Mario Bros. 2" and "Castlevania II", this game is generally considered an inferior game due to an extreme change of gameplay and appearance from its predecessors. And you know what? That attitude sucks. I'd rather have a variety of different games with a cast I like than have them pigeon-holed into one genre. In "Zelda II"'s case, however? The game mechanic shift was so extreme that I can easily see the ire it raises. Hell, I felt it. I wouldn't go so far to say that it's the worst Zelda game ever, but man, does it have structural defects.

In "Zelda II", Link's goal is to save an ensorcelled Zelda from eternal slumber by picking up a Triforce chunk that was pitched into a fuck-off palace way at the edge of Hyrule. (No, not the Zelda from the first game. Another Zelda. Same Link, though.) To do that, he's got to slap six gemstones into various temples across the countryside. Naturally, that includes picking up his trusty sword, leaping into battle, and then maybe straight into a death pit.

That's right. This Zelda is actually a Mario.

Further complicating the matter is a sharp switch in battle style and item accruement. While the previous Zelda game was about room management and ranged combat (or at least, as much as that was allowed), this game is all about jamming Link's dinky sword into an enemy's face and running off as fast as he can. Now, Link can learn a few tricks to help with the slash and dash, like directional stab mechanics and spells. But, as far as getting new weapons to help you? Sorry, bud. No bombs or boomerangs here. Well, except for the assholes throwing boomerangs at you, anyway. You just can't steal them.

The game encourages polishing the player's skill with Link through a level system. After acquiring XP through good ol' fashioned monster murdering, Link can cash his points out, improving his life, magic, or attack power. As the player levels him up, stats become more costly to improve. If Link gets a total game over before you use your XP, it is wiped out. Alright, fine. Fair, I guess. But, I wouldn't recommend looking at Japanese footage of this game if you don't want to give yourself a migraine. It turns out that as a part of some rebalancing, the level-up system was stacked to try and keep players from dumping all of their points into a single stat early into the game. Particularly, attack. Considering how painful and annoying enemy logic gets in this game, it's such a drag to learn that Japanese players literally could cut their way right out of that struggle. Thanks for dicking with the game design again, American publishers.

I guess we got better looking sprites and sound effects out of the deal? Hooray for wiggly Barba.

Even with leveling mechanics and a handful of heart and magic containers, this Link feels much frailer than the original Zelda's Link. Like, it's hard to believe he's supposed to be the same guy. Even at max health and defense, you could get Link wiped out with 8-32 hits (as opposed to 16-64 hits from the first game.) Exacerbating that is a life system that can yoink those health bars at any pit's whim and Link's range/health restoration being tied to a limited pool of magic. It feels like you're playing with a ceramic replica of the original character. You can make it work in a fight, sure, but you'd rather have a sword than a shard of a broken teapot.

If you don't have a bushido-level acceptance of death, you're not going to make it very far in this game. I'm not being hyperbolic. You have to accept that you are going to kill Link. You're going to watch that little fairy boy fade to black as the world flashes around him, and you're going to see that a lot. You're going to toss his bitch ass into the river to get a game over and restock your lives because fuck if you're going to wipe out inside a dungeon and have to start your bitch ass back at Zelda's temple again. That little counter on the main menu isn't how many times you have wiped out. It's how many times you've clawed your way out of the abyss with a middle finger raised.

Oh. Minor epilepsy warning on boss and Link deaths, by the way.

Having gone full bleak there for a moment, there are a few pieces of knowledge that can help slow down the cycle of life and death:

There are towns with nice ladies in red dresses and orange robes that will heal your ass for free. You should talk with them a lot.

There are classes of enemies that will drop items after they have been killed six times. Most of the time, this is a magic bottle that restores MP. Sometimes, it's a bag of experience. No monster will drop anything to heal your HP.

Also, some enemies are literal rat bastards that steal your XP. Some also give you no XP on killing them. Yeah. I know. Annoying.

The Life spell is in Saria. The downward stab is in Mido. (I realize these are very strange sentences if you're more familiar with "Ocarina of Time.") Getting these can make a night and day difference in surviving the game. So, keep that in mind.

You do get a spell that will turn you into a fairy. You can use it to game pits and sneak past lock doors. Just don't abuse it too much. It's expensive.

The dungeons have this little statue in front of them that you can whack with your sword. In most locations, it'll drop either a magic bottle or an Iron Knuckle. Game entering and exiting a dungeon as much as possible to restore yourself to full vitality.

You can get into random fights on the overworld (represented either by a little black blob or a more threatening human-sized blob.) Staying on gold roads will mean these encounters produce no enemies.

Also, you can use those random battles to override forced platforming sections. Not that I would recommend cheating in such a fashion. 😉

The game will give you a level up after you plug a gemstone into a dungeon. If you're close to leveling up anyway, turn around and grind up to the top, cash in what you've got, and then go pitch that gem.

Link has a crouch, not a duck. You think pressing down on the D-pad will evade projectiles aimed at your face, but it does not. Crouching is only good for blocking floor-level garbage. It's best not to think of the down button as much as possible, really. Only use it to pick up crap off the ground and cheese the final boss. Otherwise, jump.

I know that I said earlier that "Zelda II" is mechanically like a Mario game, but you know what other perspective might help? Try and play Link as a Metroidvania Castlevania character. There's an attack style in games like "Castlevania: Symphony of the Night" and "Aria of Sorrow" where you walk, jump, and attack in such a way that you never stop moving forward. That's what you've got to do. Walk, jump at an enemy, bonk on forehead. (Depending on how fast you press the attack button, you may need to delay swinging your sword just a teeny bit. At least, I had a bad habit of swinging too early.) With any luck, when you hit the ground, you will be able to keep on moving. You do not want to get stuck playing "poke-the-hole" with your enemies, particularly with how turtle-y some of them can get.

So, the game's a brutal bitch, but I don't want to spend the entire time shitting on it. Let's talk about improvements.

Honestly, I like the sprite style of the side-scrolling sections better than the previous game. Everyone/thing has more room to be rendered, so they look clearer. I can't say the monster or dungeon design here is my favorite, but hey. Easy to see. Yippie. Could have used a map though. Maybe some more tile textures in the dungeons?

NO. STOP. BE NICE.

There are more people around that want to help Link out. Like, whole towns filled with helpful healing ladies and dudes that will teach you magic and the occasional sword strike. Most of their conversation makes sense (although, there's a memetastic fault in translation regarding a character being named Error instead of what I'm assuming should have been Errol.) People good. Want to help people. People help me.

Except for towns where some of the people are monsters, and one of the times they overlapped a healing lady to get text box priority, and then they killed me. Boo.

I'M SORRY. I HAD A HARD TIME.

The music variety is pleasant. Only a few tracks have escaped the game to go into use elsewhere, but there's only one that I'm really iffy on. The NA release did a fine job transposing what they could using a different sound chip, and there are striking uses of the sample channel being used in ominous situations.

But…like…I struggle to see where fighting through this game is worth it. And maybe it comes down to the final boss. Like, the penultimate one? Absolutely cool. A bitch to fight, but I can't knock how massive and intricate its sprite is. But, the final boss? I suppose it comes down to personal tastes, but I find mirror matches/rivals to be exceedingly dull. Like, good for you. You know how I fight. I do too. Come back to me when you know the weaknesses of my style and use a fresh set of skills to throw at me.

Like, it's not the worst ending in the Zelda series. (My vote for that would go to "Link's Awakening.") You do get Zelda saved. But, given that the final boss is some kind of dark clone of yourself…it begs a lot of questions. Was there any concrete plan for the forces of darkness in Hyrule, or were various monster tribes just scuffling around, being dicks without any overarching plan? Were some monsters trying to keep you out of the Great Palace for a good reason? Would there have been any threat of Ganon reviving at all if Link just…sat on his ass behind a castle for the next century or managed his anxiety in a different way? Why does the manual bother to separate Zeldas and the game does not? Oh, wait. The Japanese intro correctly distinguishes this and the American one does not. Why am I not surprised? What's the difference if you don't see the Zelda you saved from the first game, anyway?

This game is a lot of work. I had to psych myself up to play it every time, and by the end, I was rattled enough by my nerves that I literally camped in my bathroom for a few minutes just to make sure I didn't get sick on the couch. Very stressful. And I'm not sure that stress was worth it, frankly. Life's hard enough as it is right now. I literally have a stress rash on my neck from the shit I'm going through in real life. No, you did not need to know about that. But maybe you need to know that I've been having a hard time lately, and this game did nothing to alleviate me from the stresses of reality. And what's the point in checking out from reality if a fantasy world is just going to make me miserable, too?

There are better games to play in this style. Hell, there are better games on the NES in this style. You know what you should go play? "Faxanadu." It's uglier than "Zelda II", sure. An absolute idiot when it comes to basic mathematics. But it's very chill about platforming and death. And maybe I just want to chill the fuck out for a while.

[monstersdownthepath]

Milestone Spotlight: Deskari, Lord of the Locust Host

Chaotic Evil Demon Lord of Chasms, Infestations, and Locusts

Domains: Chaos, Destruction, Evil, War Subdomains: Blood, Catastrophe, Demon, Tactics

The Complete Book of the Damned, pg. 42~43

Obedience: Meditate while allowing insects or worms of any type to crawl upon your body. If no such vermin is available, you must instead lie facedown in a trench dug into soil and mouth prayers to Deskari into the dirt while scratching yourself with sharp bits of bone or wood. Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus on saving throws against disease and against effects caused by Vermin.

Have a buggy familiar? Done. Don’t have one, but a party member does? Done. No one have a buggy familiar? Keep some bugs as a pet; done. Can’t? Well then this gets a little harder. Plopping yourself down besides an anthill is unfeasible for multiple days in a row, not to mention dangerous to your health if they believe you’re a carcass that must be scavenged. Sometimes, you can just dig straight down a little bit to find some nice worms to plop right onto your chest for an hour, though heaping loose soil on yourself every day has dangers of its own.

Not as many as the secondary option, though. The wording here implies that you can’t use mud or sand, though your DM may be a bit more lenient here because it also requires you to scratch yourself to pieces with sharpened wood and bone. Thankfully you don’t need a carved knife or anything so complex, you can just snap a branch off a tree or somesuch if you need to (and bones are always available for adventurers!), but covering yourself in bleeding scratches every day will likely get people wondering what on earth you’re doing each time you vanish for an hour, which can lead to numerous uncomfortable questions. Unlike many Demon Lords, Deskari is known all across the Inner Sea Region because he’s responsible for the Worldwound, one of the greatest threats to life on the entire planet, and as such if you’re publicly found to be one of his followers? Roll up a new sheet, bud. It only gets harder if you use literally any of Deskari’s Boon abilities in public, too.

The added danger of worshiping one of the most prominent Demon Lords in the setting can make for an experience that’s both interesting and potentially hair-pulling, because you’ve got to make extra sure not to have your faith revealed to the authorities of a given settlement. At the very least, dropping bug-infested soil onto your body each day to perform the first ritual could be explained away as you communing with nature or the earth, rather than the insects within the earth, but carving up your own skin while laying facedown in a hole is a pretty big red flag. ... Also, now that I think about it, if you’re facedown in a hole, it’d be pretty difficult to scratch anything but your back and sides, right? Hm.

The benefit is low-tier. Diseases are rarely too much of a danger if you have any sort of caster in your party, though stopping them before they begin will save you a bit of gold in the long run. A universal saving throw bonus against the abilities of an entire creature type would be fantastic if that creature type wasn’t Vermin, who are known for A) disease and B) poison and little else. In Deskari’s favor, this bonus does indeed apply to the Distraction ability of most swarming Vermin, so a bit of extra help to avoid being Nauseated is always welcome.

Boons are acquired slowly: the first once you reach 12 hit dice, the second at 16, and the third at 20. However, the Evangelist, Exalted, and Sentinel Prestige Classes can be entered as early as level 7; doing so grants you the Boons at levels 10, 13, and 16 instead. Servants of demons may also take the Demoniac Prestige Class; you don’t get the Boons any faster than E/E/S, but you may select which Boon set you get, and you get cool demon-related powers!

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EVANGELIST

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Boon 1: Locusts’ Gifts. Gain Jump 3/day, Acid Arrow 2/day, or Fly 1/day

Why bother looking at Jump when Fly is an option? Granted, getting affected with Jump at level 10 (the earliest you can get this spell) means you can, among other things, clear a 30ft gap with no effort and get yourself an Eight Foot Vertical Leap... But flight will always be infinitely more useful. The biggest difference is that, while they last the same amount of time (1 min/level), you get Jump 3/day. It’s really up to you if Eight Foot Vertical Leap three times a day would be more useful for your character than a 60ft fly speed once a day, though to me, staying out of an enemy’s reach is always preferable.

Acid Arrow is alright in that respect. The damage it deals is pathetically low, but it’s repeated damage that cannot be resisted once it begins (unless the victim can jump in some water immediately) and both castings of the spell can stack together to make the damage stack on. I personally can’t think of a reason you’d take it over Fly, though.

Boon 2: Avatar of the Locust Host. 1/day, you can cast Verminous Transformation as a spell-like ability; the swarming parts of your body are comprised of locusts, and your swarm attack deals double damage to Plant creatures.

For 1 round/level, you transmute portions of your body into swarming locusts that can chow down on up to four Medium targets (or one Large+ target) within 10ft of you, automatically dealing 4d6 damage and forcing the victim to make a Fortitude save (10+1/2 your HD+Cha mod) or take 1d3 Con and Str damage from poison. Spooky! It also forces you into melee range more or less, but your swarm form also means you only take half damage from piercing and slashing attacks!

Also, it hits four targets for automatic damage. If you find yourself in a melee you want no part of, suddenly exploding into locusts and harrying your foes can break their morale in a hurry. Slapping four enemies at once means you can easily chew through smaller foes while damaging larger ones without the usual dangers of using AoE magic (like hitting allies), and 4d6 is a nice sweet spot of being a good chunk of damage without it being overpowering. And, again, it’s automatic; no attack roll needed, with the only interactions being the enemy HP going down and them rolling versus your poison. Being stuck in melee while your bugs are literally eating the enemy’s Str bit by bit doesn’t sound so bad, all of a sudden!

I like the touch that it deals double damage to Plant monsters, because if any intelligent Plant creature sees you turn into a swarm of locusts, they’re probably going to stop fighting immediately. The downside to this ability is that it lasts only 1 round/level and can only be used 1/day, so it may fall into Too Awesome To Use territory, though I’d personally unleash it any time I was facing a group of enemies that was even slightly challenging.

Boon 3: Infestation of the Flesh. 1/day as a standard action, you can transform into a Hellwasp Swarm for up to 8 hours. You gain Swarm traits (including immunity to weapon damage), a swarm attack, and the Hellwasp’s poison, Distraction, and Inhabit abilities. While in this form, you cannot perform any actions that the swarm could not perform; this includes casting spells with somatic components and wielding weapons or items. While not using the swarm’s Inhabit ability, you can return to your normal form as a full-round action. This is a Polymorph effect.

Heurghh, nasty. For your enemies, of course! You’re perfectly fine.

The fact you gain these abilities rather than just replacing your statblock with that of the Swarm makes me think that this means it runs largely on how other Polymorph spells in PF works; namely, your statblock largely remains the same, but new stuff is stapled onto it. If this is true, it means that your swarm damage is 4d6 rather than 3d6 (and increases to 5d6 once you hit 20 HD), and your poison and Distraction have a save of (10+1/2 your HD+your Con mod) rather than what a Vanilla Hellwasp Swarm possesses. Nice!

The real important bit here, though, is that you have the swarm’s Inhabit ability. Suddenly, any enemy that’s not outright killed is an unholy vessel for your power. Your poor victims are eternally Dominated by your presence until an outside source either kills them or expels you, or you finally eat their Constitution to 0 after a few hours. Even then, though, you continue puppeting their corpse around like a second skin, shielding yourself from attacks as you march to find a better body. If you don’t really need your spells or items, you can spend a full adventuring day walking around inside other people’s skin 

Dominating your victim means you can use all of their powers for your own evil benefit, so if that wizard you just knocked out still has spell slots left? If that troll is still kicking? If that dragon just recharged its breath weapon? All yours to command. Plus, even if your other foes kill your new shell, you continue to animate their corpse to use as a beatstick or an extra mountain of flesh to protect your insectoid form.

It takes a full minute to inhabit a victim, so you can’t just jump from shell to shell in the middle of a pitched battle, but you know what you can do? Jump from shell to shell all day until just before you reach the final boss, and then hop out and reform, basically fresh as a daisy with all your resources ready to tear into them. It’s very hard to take meaningful damage while inhabiting a shell, so while the rest of your party is nearly tuckered out and running on fumes and what few resources they could cling to, you’re likely barely below 75% health and have spent exactly one (1) of your dailies for the current session.

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EXALTED

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Boon 1: Swarming Susurrus. Gain Inflict Light Wounds 3/day, Summon Swarm 2/day, or Summon Monster III (Vermin only) 1/day.

Inflight Light Wounds has already fallen off by this point, useful only to patch up any Undead allies you may have to keep them on their feet, Summon Swarm can be dangerous to use unless you conjure it at maximum range, as the swarms are indiscriminate in their tide of destruction. The Vermin-only restriction on Summon Monster III means you’re likely going to be stuck summoning Fiendish Giant Ants or a pair of Fiendish Giant Centipedes to aid you. In either case, their usefulness in combat is minor if you’re fighting foes of a similar CR to your level, with the main selling point being that their mindlessness means an enemy Enchanter cannot control them and turn them against you.

All three of these are fairly underwhelming, but Summon Swarm is fun to drop directly on an enemy’s space, because it will continue to pursue the closest source of flesh it can--just make sure it’s not yours!

Boon 2: Swarm-Walker. You can walk through any swarm without taking damage or suffering any ill effects—swarms recognize you as one of their own. As long as you stand within a swarm, you gain a +4 profane bonus on initiative checks and saving throws.

Well... I guess that’s alright? I like the idea of monkey swarms, swarms of Beheaded, and masses of Grey Goo all leave you be just as a swarm of ticks or locusts would.

Taking advantage of the Initiative bonus requires conjuring or finding a swarm beforehand, or being ambushed by a swarm that falls upon you. You should be trying to summon things before combat begins anyway (due to most summoning spells taking a full round), though if you have no means of doing so beyond what Deskari has granted you, Summon Swarm is a pathetic way to reap this ability’s benefits as your shield of vermin crawls off to go eat an adjacent ally. You’ll want something more reliable, such as Vomit Swarm or Mad Monkeys (the former even scaling better with your level than Summon Swarm) to invoke this ability, not only making creatures in melee with you regret it, but bolstering your saves against everything by an additional +4.

... But only as long as the swarm lasts, and only while you don’t move outside of it or it moves away, and only as long as your enemies don’t blast you with AoE that kills the swarm instantly, and so on and so forth. It’s a very difficult ability to really take advantage of, and half of its usefulness is completely lost if you’re only inundated in a swarm before combat begins.

Boon 3: Swarm Master. 1/day, you can cast Quickened Insect Plague.

No, no, no no no! Awful! 

Yes, it lets you take better advantage of Swarm-Walker, but this is by no means a good final Boon! Come on, Deskari, if you want our assistance in your fiendish goals, you need to sweeten the deal a little bit here! No one’s going to want to be your Exalted if all you have to offer them is a 1/day wall of wasps!

That’s more or less what this ability is, by the way. It may as well be literally called Wall of Wasps, because your summoned swarms (all five of them) can’t move from the spot they’re summoned in. While they can act as obscuring cover, their low HP (31) will rarely survive a single Fireball or Cone of Cold from a level-appropriate enemy, and the DC 13 save on their poison and Distraction abilities will rarely land on any target you need them to. Both their damage and their poison deal so little damage (2d6 and 1 Dex, respective) that they’re unlikely to keep anyone from just walking through the storm of wasps to get at you,

It’s more for intimidation than anything else, making an enemy rethink coming closer. Intimidation and using the Wasp Ocean to take advantage of Swarm-Walker, and that’s just not good enough in my book.

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SENTINEL

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Boon 1: Split the Earth. Gain Stumble Gap 3/day, Create Pit 2/day, or Spiked Pit 1/day.

I’ve stated my love of the usefulness of Create Pit and Spiked Pit in the past (under the Sentinel Boons), with them being pseudo Save-or-Sucks that can take anything without a decent Strength score or some Climb skill ages to clamber back out of the pit, while you and your allies either deal with other foes, or rain destruction down on them from above. Even if the victim makes their initial save, the pit doesn’t go anywhere, letting you push your targets in one at a time if need be. Since it’s literally just a huge hole in the ground, you can even hurl multiple enemies inside!

Which leaves a unique spell in Stumble Gap. It’s a cute spell, essentially cursing a single 5ft tile with a mobile, extradimensional gap that tries tripping up everyone who enters it. Anyone in the square when you first cast the spell or who enters the square while it’s still in effect must succeed a Reflex save (11+Cha mod) or fall prone into an adjacent square and take 1d6 damage. The real kicker, though? Even succeeding your save against the gap makes you stumble ever-so-slightly... which, for some reason, gives you a -1 penalty to ALL ROLLS AND CHECKS for a full round. Everything from attack rolls to damage rolls to saving throws to Knowledge checks (somehow) suffer a -1 penalty for a full round.

It’s not much, but it’s an interesting consolation prize and a very interesting line of text in what is otherwise a very simple spell. The penalty to every roll they make even on success makes it almost worth taking, if just for the possibility of making a 1-point success into a failure. It’d be difficult to make use of it more than once per casting, but I can see some amusing scenarios arising if you cast it three times in a row to either cover a single 15ft hallway, or in a long line in a 5ft hallway as a crowd of foes behind you trips all over themselves and each other.

Still, for all its potential (comedic and otherwise), I’d stick with the more reliable Create Pit or Spiked Pit.

Boon 2: Planar Wound. 3/day as a standard action, you can strike the ground with a scythe to open a fissure under your feet or the feet of an adjacent Medium or smaller creature (if you target yourself, the rift opens just enough to let you—and only you—through, regardless of your size). This fissure is a planar rift that sends the creature to the Rasping Rifts in the Abyss, as per Plane Shift, except the fissure can transport only one creature and closes instantly after doing so (or after being avoided). An unwilling target can attempt a Reflex save (DC = 10+1/2 HD+Cha mod) to evade the fissure and negate this effect. Flying and levitating creatures are immune to this effect, and a creature capable of flight that is standing on the ground can avoid this effect if it succeeds at a DC 20 Fly check (it can still attempt a Reflex save to avoid the spell if it fails this Fly check). 

im sorry what

did. do you just. you just... you just send them to the Abyss? Like straight up?

There are Save-Or-Die effects in Pathfinder, and then there’s this. This is a step above Save-Or-Die, this is Save-Or-Be-Personally-Delivered-To-A-Demon-Lord-As-A-Plaything. This is Save-Or-Wish-You-Could-Die. If you manage to hit an enemy with this, they have a limited time to Plane Shift anywhere but where they are right now or they’re done. That’s it. On the best of days the Abyss is a hostile place to be, but the Rasping Rifts is close to the Worldwound and thus crawling with demons eager to pounce on the first non-demon creature they see. It’s also the personal realm of Deskari and is flooded with a hive-mind of verminous beasts, and as a level 13 servant, he’s likely to be paying attention to you and everything you do. He’ll know when you’ve sent someone to him.

He may even ask you to. Knock them unconscious or strike them with some form of paralysis and they can’t make their Reflex save, so they’re helplessly delivered right to the Lord of the Locust Host, who himself is a CR 29 horror beyond the hope of a single mortal to beat. The lack of a restriction beyond size means you can make extra use of effects which shrink your enemies down to ruin their lives even further. At the very least, since it operates like Plane Shift, the delivery point isn’t exact; it may take some time for the Demon Lord to find out where its new toy has gotten off to.

A DM wishing (justifiably) to rein this ability in may have Deskari command the Sentinel to hold off on sending just any old victim to the Rifts, and instead focus on specific targets. Of course, a DM can also point out that this ability carries with it the risk of losing out on loot, as your victim takes everything with them when they go. Be wary about using this on someone who’s carrying the Plot Device!

... using it on yourself, by the way, isn’t recommended. I doubt Deskari would tolerate cowardice. Could be an interesting roleplaying opportunity, though, bargaining with the demon horde of the Rasping Rifts, offering to lead them out. Just make sure you do have a way to get back out, because Planar Wound only goes in one direction. I wonder what happens if you use it while already in the Rasping Rifts?

Boon 3: Welcome the Rasping Rifts. 1/day, you can cast Rift of Ruin as a spell-like ability. When the rift closes, each creature still present within the rift must attempt a Will save (against the spell’s save DC = 18+Cha). Creatures that succeed at this save are expelled violently (as normal for the spell), while those that fail are expelled violently into the Rasping Rifts in the Abyss. If you close the rift early to summon creatures, you summon one additional creature of the same type.

For those who don’t know what the Rift of Ruin spell does, the short version is that it’s a souped up Spiked Pit spell. The hole is 5ft wide, 5ft/level long (so 80ft when you first get it), 60ft deep, and loaded with chewing mouths, acidic mist, starving fiends, and all sorts of other Abyssal nasties that make it painful to stay inside the rift. Everyone and everything inside takes 6d6 damage that’s randomly selected from bludgeoning, piercing, slashing, Electricity, Cold, Fire, or Sonic upon entry to the rift and each round they begin inside of it. If the spell ends and everything’s shot out, they take double damage that round and are knocked prone as the rift spits them back out.

So, every good thing I have to say about Pit spells? Say them bigger and louder here. But, that’s not all! Because you can end the spell early to instead call upon an Abyssal denizen, summoning two Bebeliths or two Vrocks, 1d3+1 Shadow Demons or Succubi, OR 1d4+2 Babaus or Brimoraks. Two Bebeliths or two Vrocks is usually the correct choice, as they’re resilient and dangerous in their own rights (especially Bebeliths, with their ability to shred armor like paper), but swamping stronger foes with smaller enemies can quickly finish a fight... if it wasn’t finished in the first place by the Rift of Ruin vomiting the victim into the Rasping Rifts.

One fun thing to try is to sit at the edge of the rift and waiting for an enemy to almost, almost climb their way back out before snapping the thing shut and either sending them to the Abyss, or stranding them on your side where they’re prone, tired, and now surrounded by demons.

Deskari is kind to his Sentinels.

You can read more about him here.

[aphasene]

The Commander's Neice A Levi x reader fanfiction

Chapter Two

Visions of people blur past me in shoots. I get glimpses of their horrified faces, my chest rises ad falls at every shallow, shaky breath. Adrenaline courses through my veins as a thick layer of sweat covered the nape of my neck. I keep my breathing steady, I push harder and harder, dodging the grabs of awaiting titans. My calves burn, my breath forming clouds in the air. My shoes pound heavily across the ground causing mud to slash up my leg, the wind whips my hair back from my face. 

I skid on my heels to face a crushed house on my side. It was the Riddick household. I shudder at the thought of our neighbours being devoured by those creatures. Against my instincts screaming at me to run away, I push the huge beams of wood and roof tiles to see a young woman laying flat on her stomach, her lower half disappeared into the rubble.

“Mrs. Riddick?” I speak up in disbelief. “Is that you?”

The woman looks up, her horribly bruised face twisted in an attempt of a smile. “(Y/N).” She gasps, spitting out a clot of blood.

My fingers curl underneath the planks and boards and I heave to lift them.

“(Y/N), I can’t get out, so please save my daughter.” She gasps in pain. “Get her to the ship.”

A young girl, no older than me stumbles to my side, she rubs her eye. She’s not as scratched up as her mother, but she has a few face wounds. I Had only spoken to her a few times, from visiting the family with my father, I think her name was Suzie.

Suzie looks up at me as if I’m her saviour, she looks back to her to her mother. “What about-?”

“There’s no time.” I reply, “we need to go and find the ship, there’s not a moment to lose” As much as it pained me to see her leave her mother behind after I’d witnessed my own Father being devoured.

“(Y/N)!”

I whip around to see Armin standing at the end of the clearing with what looked to be his grandfather. 

“Armin!” Never before had I been so happy to see another human being in my life. 

“What in the world are you doing here!? Aren’t you supposed to be evacuating?”

Oh yeah. 

“Come on Suzie, we have to go now.” I say ushering the girl away. I grab her hand and rush to catch up to them.

“So, what were you doing there?” Armin asks, whilst we run down the street.

“I was saving this little girl.” I gesture to her.

“Oh, what’s your name?” Armin asks.

“…Suzie.” Suzie mumbles just loud enough for me and him to hear.

“Where’s your dad?” He asks, when he realises what he’s said, his eye widen and panic. “Oh my god, (Y/N), I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head, “It’s okay, we just need to get to the ship as soon as possible, god knows how much space there could be left.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Well, I’m definitely not okay, my dad died. But he did give me this.” I hold up the letter.

“A letter?”

“Yeah, apparently it’s really important.”

***

I link arms with Armin and Suzie while he links with his grandfather’s as we fight slowly from the packed deck to the gang plank.

“We need to get on that ship.” Armin’s grandfather.

“Everyone needs to get on that ship.” The guard glares at us. “Wait your turn.”

“Please, there are children!”

The guard sighs, taking one last look at us before sighing and stepping aside, letting us on the ship.

We find a small space on a bench near the middle for us to squeeze onto. I place Suzie on my lap. We watch as those on the deck scowl up at us safely on board, then I spot them!

Mikasa and Eren step on to the ship, staying firmly beside another guard, the step onto the ship.

“Hey Eren! Mikasa!” Armin bellows, waving the capture their attention.

There was something a little off about them, Eren wasn’t his usual happy self, Mikasa seemed to have more of a darkened expression than usual.

“Armin, I think we need to leave them be for a while, they look like they’ve been through hell and back.”

I watch as they find a seat, I turn to Armin who twiddles his thumbs awkwardly.

“What’s going to happen to our homes?” He trembles.

“My best guess is that its going to be completely obliterated and we’re going to be homeless for the rest of our lives.” I shrug.

“Oh.” Armin looks up at me with his eyebrows knitted together in worry.

“That sounded less harsh in my head.” I rub the back of my neck. “to be honest I’m not too sure, myself. At least everyone’s alive.”

“Well, almost everyone.”

“Armin!”

“Sorry.” Armin holds his hands up in surrender.

***

“I told you honey.” The guard looks at me with narrow eyes. “We can’t give rations out freely, there’s too many people. And it says here, you’ve already had yours.”

I huff. There was no way I was going back to my friends without out that wedge of cheese, and if he wasn’t going to give it to me nicely, I was going to have to take it.

“I wasn’t trying to take it.” I say as innocently as possible, “I just wanted to talk.”

“I am a little busy.” The guard looks to his clipboard.

“It’s just.” I look to my feet. “I watched my dad get eaten by a titan and you kind of remind me of him.” I sniffle.

I watch as the guard looks at me with sympathy. “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, it’s just sometimes I think of him and I-.” I collect every little bit of sadness I can muster and begin to cry; it wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be and of course I was still in mourning but, what was a little manipulating for the fat bastards who hog all the food.

The guard wraps his arms around me, squeezing me in a warm embrace. He smells of sweat and alcohol. Holding my nose, I slowly reach into his pocket and retrieve the piece of cheese and hide it in my jacket.

“I think I’ll be okay now.” I say whipping a tear from my eye.

“Okay Honey, stay safe.”

I turn on my heels and skip down the road. What a buffoon. I had pickpocketed a few times in my life, not nearly enough to be seen and a ‘pickpocketer’ as such. My family was too well for that, even after we moved from Sina. Thought, I had a fair idea on how to do it.

“Stop thief!"

Oh shit!

Just my luck, of course someone would catch me. But I don’t go down without a fight. So, I run, pushing past the many people that crowd the centre.

“Catch her!” the once sympathetic and kind hearted Garrison guard had the look of betrayal on his wrinkled face.

The crowd looks at him in utter confusion, as if a small innocent girl could ever be seen doing something like that. I have bright (E/C) eyes, there aren’t many who can resist it.

Despite everything, I chuckle at the turn of events. I had pickpocketed so many times in my life, yet this was the first time I had been caught. It was difficult to hide from the guards at a place like this, I don’t know wall Maria as well, but it looks similar. 

I dart into a building with an open door.

“Oh!?” 

I look up to see a woman stand beside a bar, she wipes a glass whilst the others at the bar stare at me as if they’d never seen a child before.

I press my finger to my lips in panic, urging the barmaid to keep quiet. I crawl behind the bar, hiding under one of the shelves. I hear the a few sets of footprints burst through.

“Excuse me ma’am.” I hear the Garrison guard say gruffly, “but have you seen a young girl, around ten years old?”

“No.” The barmaid drags out the ‘N’. “Why?”

“She’s a thief. She stole some rations; we’re trying to find her.”

This is the end for me.

“No, I don’t think I’ve seen her. But I’ll be sure to let you know when I do.”

I breathe a heavy sigh of relief.

“Thank you for your cooperation ma’am, we’ll let you get on with your day.”

As soon as I’m sure the soldiers are gone, I crawl out from my hiding spot, a forlorn look spread across my face. I look at the barmaid who still looked rather confused. “Could you please tell me what the hell that was?” 

I solemnly grab the piece of cheese and show it to her.

“Did you steal some of the rations?” She places a hand on her hip.

I nod my head slowly. “It was only because my friends and I are so hungry.”

“Oh, I get it! Are you a refugee?”

I nod.

The woman kneels down so that she’s on my level. “Listen, I get that it’s tricky times, but the rations are shared out equally to all of us. Taking more than you already need, isn’t fair on the rest of us. I know you’re hungry but so are the rest of us.” When she notices my ‘puppy dog’ eyes, she sighs. “You’d better get a move on, before they see you again.”

“Thank you.” I say quietly, before slipping out of the bar.

***

I run down the street, I know at the end there’s a barn that the Mikasa, Armin, Eren and I hide out in, and if today was how I’m going to be living my life, we’ll be staying there for a while.

Not that I mind, the streets are chaotic since the attack a few days ago, it was easier to pickpocket, but if I was going to spending the rest of my life like this; I’d rather have gone with my dad.

But I know that there’s a reason I’m here and for whatever reason my father wanted me to go on. Truly, mother gave me this pendant. I don’t quite know why but I suppose I should keep going, whatever ‘keep going’ meant.

So, I stumble to a nearby field, it looked to be an abandoned farm, possibly a few years ago. The broken-down houses littered the entire space.

I scramble to a nearby barn, it’s decaying exterior made it look like hit hadn’t been used for centuries, I heave open the burned brown door. The stench of old hay and animal piss fills my nose and pinches the back of my brain.

“Hey guys, I bought it.” I say holding up our precious portion of food.

“You have it!” Eren cheers. “You were gone for a while, we thought you may have been caught.”

“Something like that.” I say rubbing the back of my head. “But it’s fine. I’m still alive and in one piece. I just may have to stay here for the time being.” I break the wedge off into chunks, handing them around the group.

“(Y/N).” Armin says, taking a bite of his cheese.

“Yeah?”

“Did you read the letter your father gave you?”

I had almost forgotten, after everything that had happened, I reach into my pocket and pick out my slightly creased letter.

“Letter?” Mikasa enquires.

“Oh yeah.” I sigh. “Father gave me this before he was devoured. No, I haven’t read it yet. I’ve been too busy stealing food from the soldiers for you.”

“Do you think you should?” Armin asks. “I mean it is the last thing your father gave you. it could be important.”

“Maybe you’re right.” I look at the letter, the words ‘To (Y/N)’ scribbled in his usual scruffy writing. I hook my thumb under the flap of the envelope and tear the paper and unfold the letter.

Dear (Y/N).

If you’re reading this, the chances are I’m already dead. Please don’t be too upset, I come with a mission.

I need you to join the Survey Corps for me. You will meet an old relative of yours: your mother’s brother. He has the key to your pendant. Once you unlock it, you will find the secret to controlling your abilities, this may be our last chance to saving humanity.

Good luck

From your loving father.

I stare at the letter for what seemed like an eternity until Mikasa taps me on the shoulder and brings me out of my thoughts.

“(Y/N)? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m joining the scouts.”

Requests are open!

[purplesurveys]

1048

survey by skiesofsunshine

What would you honestly do if you had a million dollars? Buy sushi and Airpods, give a chunk to my parents, donate another chunk to animal welfare NGOs, save the rest.

Do you pretend to be something you're not to make friends? Not to make friends, because it would be such a hassle if I actually ended up gaining friends from faking myself. But I do sometimes pretend, if it’ll make a certain interaction easier. “Fake it till you make it” isn’t a lie and I learned that more and more as I got older.

When was the last time someone disappointed you? Today.

Are you still in school? Nope, I got out of it just a little less than half a year ago.

Trigger warning for an item immediately below the cut.

Where do you see yourself 10 years from now? [trigger warning] I mean I’ve said it before, but I don’t really plan on making it past 30 and I’m already 22. We’ll see if that changes down the road as I’m always open to hear good reasons to stay, anyway.

Are you more of a shy or outgoing person? I’ve been very shy for most of my life but I’ve become more and more outgoing in recent years. It still depends on who I am with though, and what their body language tells me.

How many hours of sleep per night do you usually get? 8-10, which is thankfully a healthy amount. I’m always left exhausted after work.

Would you rather listen to new music or the classics? There’s no reason for me to have a preference as I enjoy a good selection from both.

Can you do a cartwheel? Nope.

What does friendship mean to you in your life? Family and loyalty.

What is the closest yellow thing next to you? The lights that we have here on our rooftop.

Do you currently feel any sadness? It has been an ongoing wave for the last three months.

Are you more of an athlete or artist? I am seriously neither. I am not at all an athlete, but I guess that label is at least closer to who I am because I do play table tennis.

Is it hard for you to break the ice with new people? Depends on their personality. Some people may just prefer to be on the quiet side and that’s okay.

Do you judge people by groups or by individuals? I try not to at all?

What do you think was the stupidest movie ever created? I once read about the movie Birdemic and watched it out of curiosity. It was so stupid it was genuinely entertaining.

Who is your hero and why? I try not to have any. It’s nice to have inspirations, but I feel like labeling someone as hero would be a bit too much for me.

If you could be someone else for a week, who would it be? Me, from the beginning of the year. If it counts. I’d rather revisit older, happier versions of myself.

What do you want people to remember you for when you die? Somebody who was selfless. Idk, I don’t wish for too much. I just hope people think I am or was a good person.

Do you always respond to chain letters? Nope.

Would you rather text someone or call them? TEEEEEEEEEXT. I gotta say, I’m getting a lot more calls now that I’m working and I’ve been a little braver in answering them, but I do still hate them. I’d much rather text unless a situation is super complex or complicated that a call would be necessary.

What are you afraid of most? Giving up.

Do you spend too much time online? Kinda, but it’s necessary. I’m working from home so I have to keep my line open to stay connected to my co-workers 24/7.

Are you the type to procrastinate? This was mostly me as a student. I don’t want to fuck up at work, so if I have time to do something I get started on it immediately.

What is your biggest annoyance? Companies who have automated customer service chats. Sometimes I’ll have a very specific inquiry only to be greeted by a bunch of buttons to categories with already-given answers, and I end up never fixing my problem.

Do you use any drugs? Erm, nothing even mildly alarming, I guess.

Do you believe that you'll always be a kid at heart? For sure.

Are you currently in a relationship? No.

What do you like to do for fun? God I’ve taken an entire week to take this lol...work has me beat. I spend my days alone now, and I have the most fun and fulfillment when I take myself out for dates at coffee shops :) It lets me take surveys in an environment I’m comfortable with (other than my room), and I also get to look out the big windows and just reflect and be at peace for a few moments. I’m also getting more and more into embroidery and thankfully there’s loads of embroidery kits online that already come with templates and instructions.

Do you have a job? Yes. It’s normally incredibly hectic to the point that I can feel the burnout coming in even though I’ve only been in the role for a little more than a month. But with today being the second-to-the-last-day before our office closes for the holidays, so many people are on leave and I actually have time to continue this in the middle of the day.

Can you type without looking at the keyboard? That’s how I normally type. I haven’t had to look in like a decade now.

What is something you want to improve on this year? Kinda too late to ask this don’t you think? Hahaha. Uhm, I did a lot of growing this year, I’d say. Most of it forceful, but still necessary. I’m proud of myself for making it to the end. I really am. Mostly because I can remember how determined I was to leave just a few months ago. I grew a lot, and I’m proud. I wish other people have seen the growth too, because I’ve tried really hard.

Do you have any pets? Yeah, I have two dogs.

What is your dream car? A Mini Countryman or Clubman. I don’t really care which but I’d love to have either.

How many times a day do you get angry? Depends on how many mistakes I make at work.

If you could, would you want to stay young forever? It was great to have fewer things to worry about as a kid, but I enjoy the freedom and independence that come with being older a lot more.

Are the books better or worse than the movies? That’s usually the case, but of course it applies differently to all books/movies.

Are you afraid of the dark? No, but like I’ve said before it’s only scary if the darkness is meant to be an element of a bigger scary thing. Like if I’m in a haunted house and all the lights went out or something like that.

If you could eat any food you want right now, what would it be? Sushi.

Are you a racist person? No.

Do you ever feel like people use you? I try not to think about it.

Do you keep in contact with your friends during the summer? Back when I was in school and summer was still a thing, yeah.

What is your favorite month of the year? April.

Does bad grammar get on your nerves? Only if it’s from someone I dislike, hahahaha

If you were going to die right now, what would your last words be? I would be alone, so I’d rather go through it in silence.

Does Jeopardy make you feel dumb? Sometimes. Aw, this question made me sad because Alex Trebek :(

What is/was your worst subject in school? Chemistry.

Are you a sarcastic person? Eh, I can be. I don’t whip it out too often though.

What role does religion play in your life? It made me realize I should avoid having a religion.

Can you sleep with your eyes open? ???

[incoherentbabblings]

Take Back the Cake, Burn the Shoes, and Boil the Rice (1/11)

Within two months there have been two murders of Gotham newlyweds moments after the ceremony. The only connecting factor was both brides wore the same designer's work. Needing to establish who exactly is behind the crimes, Bruce enlists Tim and Stephanie to have the biggest wedding Gotham high society has seen in decades, putting a target on their heads not just for the killer, but Gotham society too. It goes about as well as you'd expect. 

Ao3 link here!

Hey, @thatblondeperson​ @our-happygirl500-fan the odyssey begins, huh? Thank you both for your help with this, I imagine I will keep bugging you with questions and pictures of pretty dresses going forward.

“No way.”

“Batgirl.”

“No! Are you serious? Look, I did the trip to England – even though I have a life here and didn’t want to – because it was like only for a semester and it was to help people… but this? No.”

“I agree.” Red Robin chimed, bolstering Batgirl against Batman. He pulled back his cowl, revealing the tired young man underneath. He didn’t look wholly invested in anything Bruce had to say. “Can’t you fake it? With Selina or… I don’t know. Zatanna or…” Tim shrugged uselessly. “I’ve already had a fake engagement! One’s enough, thank you.”

“No-one is going to believe Bruce Wayne’s engagement… They know it will all fall through.” Dick chimed up. He was sat at the batcomputer, feet up on the keyboard, eating chunks of mango and watermelon and looking completely indifferent to the outraged faces around him. He looked briefly at Bruce. “No offense.”

“Well you do it then!” Stephanie argued. “You’re a…fully grown adult. No-one would blink an eye if you and Babs got engaged! Everyone knows you’re sweet on each other.”

Dick slowed the chewing of his fruit. Looking Steph straight in the eye, he spat out seeds over the edge of the ground down in the depths of the cave. Tim watched out of the corner of his eye as Bruce folded his arms, exasperated. Finally, after a tense stare off, Dick grinned.

“Can’t. Going off world on Friday. Can’t get married if you’re not on Earth. And this case really needs to be closed asap.”

It was a shit eating grin, one that made Steph want to instinctively slap it off his face as she felt increasingly crowded into a corner. Tim meanwhile screwed up his lips.

“You seriously think the designer has something to do with it?”

“Two murders at a wedding in two months. Both bride and groom.”

“No such thing as a coincidence?” Asked Stephanie. She tugged off her cape, hair getting caught as she did so. After a brief fight with the cowl, she tossed both aside and spun back to look at Batman.

“No. Not in these instances.”

“But what’s the connection?”

“Both brides were wearing the same designer.”

Tim nodded, catching on. “So… someone either has it out for the designer and wants her life to collapse… or she’s a wedding dress designer who hates happy couples.”

“Potentially.” Bruce walked towards Tim, seeing he was less aggressively opposed then Stephanie. “All you have to do is pretend. Hire her for the dress, plan the wedding. I’ll find the truth.”

Stephanie was not moved. “Using us as decoys? Really? And with what spare time am I supposed to plan a wedding? This is my final year of college… I can’t drop it all for the sake of a lie.” She looked to Tim, hoping to implore him to side with her. Bruce couldn’t make them both agree, surely.

To her growing distress, Tim was frowning off to the side, pulling his usual thinking face when he was musing something over.

“We’d seriously have to go through with it? Like from engagement, planning…wedding. All of it?” Something sparked in Tim’s eyes, and Stephanie’s stomach dropped.

She shook her head at him, unable to beg out loud. Bruce’s large chest heaved up and down with an exaggerated breath.

“It would have to be public. We’ll be making you targets. Big ones.”

If anything, this seemed to further motivate Tim, rather than placing the pressing guilt that had formed in Stephanie’s lungs. He looked to Bruce, expression serious and earnest.

“But we’d be potentially redirecting it from innocent people.”

Dick blinked, his somewhat sadistic enjoyment of their discomfort shifting as he too noticed Tim’s expression. A sort of desperation that Stephanie recognized in a way that made her breath short.

Panic went through her then, and she blurted out a, “What if I say no?” She tried to put her foot down, but instead it came out quiet and pleading.

“Then I won’t do it either.” Tim said, looking her in the eye for the first time since the idea was brought up. “I don’t want to. Not without her.”

Dick’s expression morphed into what only could have been described as pity. Tim and Stephanie were not dating, hadn’t been for years, but everyone knew from watching that they still knew each other inside and out, better than most anyone else. For all Tim had been drifting in and out of closeness with Bruce and Dick the past three years, it seemed he had only relocated positions within the family. Always to Cassandra first, his sister in every way that counted, and, despite his initial reservations, also to Stephanie, who had taken every effort to move past the worst of their adolescence with open arms.

They had grown closer (still not close enough in Tim’s opinion) but a level of shyness, of fragility remained. One wrong step and the false peace they had put together the past few years would crumble and reveal structural faults that neither could fix.

For all Tim wanted a partner to ensure that his loneliness would depart from him permanently; for all Tim wanted Stephanie to be that partner – Stephanie in all her hard fought and earned independence – Tim knew he couldn’t force her to do anything. Neither could Bruce. Not anymore. That lesson, they had both learned a long time ago.

He had been treading on eggshells for some time now, desperate to not upset her, even if it came at the cost of his own happiness.

Stephanie knew all of this. She had watched him argue with himself and twitch in a way that indicated he wanted to move closer, and she had watched him refuse to verbalise any of it.

He wouldn’t speak; therefore, she wouldn’t speak. Ergo, their relationship was at a dead end.

Unless he could get her to agree to lie with him.

Which would make her miserable. Because he wouldn’t be talking to her. Not truly.

And the uroboros of a Catch-22 situation would continue to eat its tail.

Bruce watched the naked relief play out on Stephanie’s face that she had Tim’s conditional support. He gave another sigh, and Dick watched from his seat, knowing that Bruce was about to play dirty.

“I do not trust anyone else to follow this through.”

Tim groaned, and hung his head down, and Dick knew Bruce had won. Stephanie meanwhile, for a lack of a better term, flipped out.

“No.” She said, and she began to tear off her uniform until she was only in her black tank top and leggings, stomping barefooted back up the stairs.

Trying to not take it personally, Tim rushed to the changing area to get into his shirt and jeans and socks. Maybe if he just caught her…

Dick watched the pair go, chewing loudly on a crunchy piece of fruit.

“Sometimes you’re really cruel.”

“…I know.”

Stephanie rushed into one of the drawing rooms, grabbing her bag she had left resting on a seat to pull out her shoes, collapsing to the expensive rug. Her little purple car was parked out front, so she could make a quick getaway.

Tim practically fell into the room, having thrown on a checked shirt and jeans that made his butt look good.

Stupid Tim.

“Steph.” He breathlessly plead. She tied her shoelaces, ignoring his tone. Finding the expensive cream rug much more interesting, she aggressively tied knots in her shoes.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“We could end up saving a lot of people down the line and –”

“You know that throwing yourself in front of a bullet isn’t going to make daddy love you any better, right?”

Tim stopped breathing, and she knew instantly she had crossed a line. She slumped forward, head banging against her knees. Tim watched her shoulders heave with silent sobs. Instantly he moved to be level with her, curled up on the floor, hidden out of sight from Alfred, or Bruce, or anyone.

His hand hovered, wanting to stroke her hair, but instead he settled for her bare forearm. He felt her muscle spasm under his cold fingers and watched as goosebumps appeared on her arm. She was looking paler than normal.

“Steph I won’t... I won’t force you to do it. But, if we can make ourselves targets then we could be saving someone else, and if Bruce closes the case before we even get to the alter… It doesn’t have to be serious...” He murmured the last part, trying to hide the paranoid part of him that believed Stephanie was reacting so strongly to the idea of being tied to him again – even temporarily.

“Tim, if this were five years ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. And not just because there’s no-one else I’d rather do this with...”

Tim smiled, despite the general mood of the room. Stephanie, with her head pressed to her knees, did not see.

“But I’m not going to be fake marrying a nice boy from down the road.”

“What do you mean?”

She finally looked up at him, and her eyes were dry and clear.

“Your name, Tim. Bruce’s name.”

He blinked, still not comprehending. Her fingers crept forward, absently stroking the fabric of his shirt.

“If you were me... If you were just an average Gothamite, and you saw that one of the richest and most handsome guys in Gotham, the one who spends his life in the public eye... If you saw he was marrying a girl who has a father on death row, and a mother who has a history of drug abuse. A girl who he hasn’t publicly associated with before outside of days where his sister was present... A girl who got pregnant at fifteen... How would that look? A two-month engagement?”

“I’d think it was none of my business.”

“And then the marriage breaks off after a month. Or they don’t even make it to the marriage stage. What do you think happens to that girl? How do you think her life is going to be afterwards?”

Tim couldn’t help it, with his free hand he reached for one of hers. Tangling their fingers together, he felt her trembling. She squeezed back tightly, their fingers turning a little purple.

“Bruce and I wouldn’t let anything like that happen.” Tim swore.

“You can’t promise that.”

Still so jaded, under all that optimism. Still so doubtful of how kind the world actually was.

“Yes, I can. I can.”

“God Tim, you’re so naïve!”

She tried to pull away, but Tim held tight, not letting her leave. She stared at him outraged, as he tried to convince her.

“Please Steph. Bruce doesn’t make mistakes about this sort of thing. More people are going to die unless we do something.”

Pale blue eyes stared into indigo, and a long moment passed in silence, the clock on the mantle providing the only noise. Some garden birds chirped outside, and the fluttering of their wings past the window made Stephanie flinch out of the moment. She breathed unsteadily. Tim tugged their conjoined hands closer to his chest.

“You’d honestly rather do it with no-one else?” He asked, smiling crookedly.

She blinked, unable to stand the vulnerability anymore, frowned and looked out the window. “You said the same thing downstairs.”

He blushed, and she tugged her hands finally free. Tim tried not to grimace at the feeling. Steph was always warm, a beacon of tanned skin and golden hair. Without her, his fingers quickly grew cold.

He had run home once, on a cold Gotham day, when he and his dad had spent an afternoon playing catch outside. His parents had been home for two months that time, and he had run in to find his mother and beg for a hot chocolate. He had been only six, and Janet had been sat in front of the computer, dark red hair piled up in a messy bun. Tim remembered her always looking well put together, even in her messier more relaxed moments.

“Mom, mom!” He had cried, cheeks flushed red from the temperature. His mother’s stress lines had disappeared when she spied him coming her way, and she held out her arms to catch him. She had been in a good mood that day. Ready to indulge him.

She pulled him up onto her lap, and Tim had laughed.

“Feel my hands!” And he had put his frozen fingers on her cheeks, causing her to gasp exaggeratedly.

“Frozen solid!” And she had kissed and kissed and kissed him and with each kiss he felt warmer and warmer. “Cold hands mean a warm heart though Tim. That’s the most important bit.”

And his father had entered the room, and the smile had slipped from Janet’s face, and the soft moment with his mother had been over. The warmth fled him, her and the house.

Fifteen years later, Tim wasn’t sure he believed Janet’s little saying anymore. Steph was just plain warm. From her head to her toes, her golden skin gave off warmth like she had been laying in the sun all day. Like she held the sun in her chest, and her hair was the yellow rays escaping. His mother and father’s warmth had come and gone with their moods. Stephanie’s was ever present. Even when she was angry, even when she was being cruel, she seemed incapable of being cold whilst being so.

Tim blinked, realising he had completely drifted off and away from the present moment, and was daydreaming again. Stephanie sat with her legs splayed out, still upset but more reserved than before.

"I’m going to go home.” She declared. “And I am going to think it over. Give me a day.”

“You gonna talk to your mom?”

“If I do go through with it, she’ll need to know.” Stephanie shifted, putting on her other shoe. “You’re already on thin ice with her you know. Have been for years.”

Tim was going to tease her and ask why it mattered what her mother thought of him, but like Steph said, he was treading on thin ice. Even getting her to consider it was a victory in his eyes.

She said her goodbye and got up, Tim remaining sat on the floor. Impulsively, she tugged at his hair playfully. Tim may have imagined it, but he felt her hand stroke his hair, like she used to when he’d rest his head on her stomach. It had started when she had pulled him down in her room, on her little bed, to see if he could hear or feel her baby move. It had continued long after the baby had been given up for adoption. She had said his hair was nice to play with.

Stephanie paused, looking down on him.

“You really won’t do it with someone else? Just me?”

“Promise.”

She sighed and went to go. She stopped, blond hair swinging round her shoulders, and looked like she was going to say something else. She thought better of it, and gave a half-hearted wave.

“See you tomorrow.” She uttered, then she was gone.

Tim remained sat on the floor long after she left. He heard her car switch on and roll off, and he remained on the carpet. His mind was racing.

Bruce eventually found him. Out of costume, in a white t-shirt and black trousers, he sat on the loveseat by Tim.

Keeping his head down, Tim spoke.

“She said… she wanted the day to think about it.”

“Okay.”

Tim stared off, knowing Bruce was waiting for him to ask the burning question.

“Why us?”

Tim heard the frame of the seat creak as Bruce shifted. Neither man was looking at the other.

“As I said. I trust you two will do a good job.”

“And no-one else.”

“You work well together.”

“Do we?”

“Tim…”

“She said that she was afraid of how people would react. Poor girl and a rich boy get hitched quickly and all that.”

Bruce’s response was firm and immediate. “I won’t let people think of her that way.”

Tim tilted his head to look at his father, comforted by the protective nature in his tone. “That’s what I said. She didn’t believe me.”

“Hnn.” Bruce placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder, and squeezed reassuringly. “She’ll help. She won’t turn away from people in need. I’ll leave you to deal with the… nitty gritty of it all.”

He got up to leave, allowing Tim to brood alone on the floor.

“Bruce?”

Bruce turned, looking at him expectantly. Tim swallowed.

“You honestly think we work well together?”

Bruce chewed his tongue, thinking of how best to respond. “I remember, how happy you made each other, and I trust her with you. You’ll both do well in this.”

And that was all. Tim stared at the now empty doorframe, unsure of what to make of Bruce’s statement. His fingers twitched, craving the warmth of Stephanie’s grip once more.

He couldn’t decide if he was being selfish or not for wanting her to agree to such a silly idea. A silly idea that could save several people down the line. Maybe. Or maybe he just wanted an excuse to spend time with her outside of the costume. Only if she wanted it though. He wasn’t that cruel. Falling forward to the floor, butt up in the air, Tim grumbled to himself about how lovesick he was.

Stephanie meanwhile had to pull over halfway home, so emotional that she needed to catch her breath.

This was what was going to bring Tim and her together once more? Another lie?

She couldn’t bare it. To have to pretend to be happy and in love when really what she would be was miserable. But still in love.

She’d never stopped. She still craved his eyes on her (and only her), to hear him say how proud he was.

No.

No, she was past that. That was the point. The point of Batgirl, the point of returning to Gotham.

She rubbed aggressively at her eyes, sat on the layby of the road, and called her mother, unable to wait until she reached home. She put on the speaker, and set the phone on the dashboard.

Her mother had the next three days off, so with some luck she would catch her.

“Hiya Stephie.” She answered. “All good?”

“Yeah. Just driving back.”

“Then why’d you call?”

“I… mom… I’ve been asked to do something. For work.” She clarified. Her mother would understand. “And I’m not sure I should.”

“Why?”

Something in Stephanie snapped, and three years of grief came pouring out. Her mother listened, saying nothing. Stephanie knew that her mother was wary of Tim, of Batgirl, of the whole thing, but she was also the one who could give a somewhat neutral response. As she ranted, Stephanie grew more distressed. She knew from the outside she must have looked like a mad woman, arms flailing and legs kicking. As she drew to a close, Stephanie rested her forehead on the wheel of her car.

“...But I want to help people. And I want to be with him. And I don’t know if that makes me weak.”

“It makes you lovesick.”

Her mother’s tone was soft, sad, and empathetic. Stephanie didn’t know which emotion was comforting and which was upsetting. She sniffed loudly, pressing the heel of the palms of her hands so tightly to her eyes that she saw stars. Crystal was silent, letting her daughter think her rant through. A minute passed, and Stephanie lowered her hands from her eyes, feelings slowly clicking into place.

“Thanks mom.”

“You made your mind up?”

“Yeah.”

Turning her engine back on, she picked up the phone once more. “Gonna be a bit longer until I get back. We need anything from the shops?”

“Another two cartons of milk wouldn’t hurt.”

“’Kay.” She buckled her seatbelt on. “Love you. Bye.”

“Love you too, Stephie. Glutton for punishment that you are.”

Stephanie laughed, then hung up. The smile quickly faded, and she stared at her home screen. Closing her eyes, taking a breath, and flicking her indicator on, she got back on the main road, looking for a place to do a u-turn.

Alfred opened the door to find Stephanie hopping up the steps to the front door, having let her back through the front gates. She smiled bashfully at the butler.

“I’ll inform Master Bruce that you’ve returned.” He said, ushering her inside.

“And Tim?”

“Of course. Make your way to the kitchen, Miss Stephanie. There are some baked goods cooling. You can take some home for you and your mother.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Alfred.”

She perched herself on one of the breakfast bar stools, staring at the banana muffins on the cooling rack. They smelled very good.

Tim arrived first, Bruce following behind. Both men looked expectant.

There was a brief pause as Stephanie collected her words.

“I’ll do it.” Bruce nodded, and Tim, betraying himself utterly, smiled broadly. It made something in her gut jerk, and she continued despite herself. “Only to help you solve the case. You promise to protect me from bad press?”

Bruce’s eyes tightened. “We’ll need a lot of publicity to ensure we capture their attention.”

“Good publicity.”

“Yes.” Stephanie’s eyes flittered to Tim as he moved closer to her, only partially listening to Bruce. “You’ll both have the family clout behind you. Use it.”

“Fine.” She nodded one last time. Tim opened his mouth to say something, but Stephanie turned away to grab one of Alfred’s muffins. Sensing the mood of the room, Bruce left, passing ownership of the task to the two young adults.

Tim moved closer than she would have preferred, close enough to feel his warm breath move her hair, but she still couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Stephanie…”

Taking a large bite, she inspected the granite worktops, finding the little silver glimmers fascinating. Tim saw she was going to be unresponsive. Hating himself a little, he began to dictate their plan going forward.

“We’ll go on a few dates first. People have seen you, me and Cassandra hanging out, so it won’t be a total shock. When do you next have a spare afternoon?”

She bristled at being told what to do in the manner Tim had slipped into, but she answered quietly.

“Thursday.”

“I’ll pick you up from campus. We’ll go to Robinson Park.” Colour rose to Tim’s cheeks as he got lost in his own head. Stephanie continued not to look at him, finding Alfred’s baking less upsetting. He was looking at her longingly. She knew that look well enough that she could sense it on him.

“Sounds good.” She said around a mouthful of muffin.

“You still want me to teach you how to ride my skateboard?”

That got her to look at him. She shook her head, trying not to give in to his puppy dog eyes.

“Tim, not like that. Not with everyone watching.”

This is what she had been dreading. Things she wanted, things she craved, but built on a foundation of lies. She and Tim weren’t going on a real date, so why should she do something she wanted for real? She was fine with lying, she did it every day of her life, but not for this. Not when half-truths were thrown in with Tim.

Tim seemed confused. “You said it just the other day. This is a good as reason as any.” He pushed his way closer into her personal space. Frustratingly, she wasn’t unnerved by it. “Steph… It gets easier. Those guys being around taking photos... Bruce has so much hold over them they don’t come near any of us.”

“Frightened of the big bad bat?”

“More like the billionaire with a big pocket for legal fees.” Tim snorted. “Honest. You’ll forget they’re there.” His tone turned a bit more serious, a bit more somber. “I know the whole thing is…less than ideal. So, let’s try and have some fun, yeah?”

Tim thought he knew that Steph knew that he still loved her. He’d said as much. But that was years ago. He’d also tried to kiss her. But that was also years ago.

Okay, so maybe being forced to get engaged and married wasn’t the best foundation to start a genuine courtship, but Tim could make it work.

So he smiled at her, and Stephanie smiled back. It was genuine.

He could make her happy.

“Okay.” She picked up two muffins to take home. “I’ll see you Thursday then.”

Tim’s smile widened as he watched her go. Mind racing, he twirled around in the kitchen, smacking his hands repeatedly off the counter.

“So… you’re going to tell her that you want to pursue a genuine relationship once this is all over or…?”

Dick’s voice drifted over from the doorway. He was leaning against the frame, one foot resting on his other ankle. His body language was casual, but his expression was deadly serious. Tim dismissed his concerns.

“Won’t need to. I will…show her that I am emotionally ready to get back in a relationship with her, and I know she still loves me so… by the end, the lie can be over, and she can ask me.”

“She has to ask you?”

Dick sounded so unapproving that Tim’s hackles rose. He walked around to the other side of the counter, further separating him from his elder brother.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Tim shook his head, baffled. “Because I’m the one doing all the work.”

Dick tilted his head, frustrated with Tim. “Define ‘work’? Buying her a nice dinner counts as work?”

“No! But I… She’s frightened. I’ll prove she doesn’t need to be.”

Dick’s eyes tightened. Like Stephanie, he thought Tim was being awfully naïve. Tim grumbled to himself.

“Just… go do your space adventure. When you come back in two months… you’ll see. We’ll catch the bad guy, innocent people will be saved, the press will love Steph as much as I do, and we’ll be on our merry way to getting out all the bad air between us.”

“By…not talking about the bad air.”

“We’ll talk! She… she has to start it. ‘Cause I did all the talking in the past. It’s her turn now. That’s all.”

Dick chewed on the inside of his cheek. Tim picked up a muffin and threw it at his brother, unable to bear the condescension. “You have no room to judge. I’ve loved her for half my life. I’m not going to have a mission be another nail in the coffin.”

Dick caught the muffin, ripping the top off and inspecting the inside. He turned to go, knowing he would get nowhere with Tim. Once the boy had made his mind up, it took a plan exploding in his face to realise he’d done wrong.

“No,” Dick said, nibbling as he walked away. “You want a lie to be the kiss of life.”

Tim stood in the kitchen, his loneliness creeping up on him. Looking desperately around, he grabbed his own baked good, then rushed downstairs to take his car back to his apartment.

He could make this work.

[jamkookies]

Decalcomania

Description :  A trip to Malta for the shooting of Bon Voyage seems peaceful enough until the moment things take an unexpected turn...

Word Count : 2.4k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"This tastes really good." Jungkook says through a mouthful, munching and smacking his lips.

You weren't even surprised to see the red sauce staining the corners of his lips, proof of how much he was enjoying his delicious slice of pizza.

A sudden déjà vu hits you, and you experience the same feeling from the restaurant by the beach, except for this time you don't tell, but rather show him. He stops chewing when you use your thumb to swipe at the tomato sauce on the corner of his mouth. That seems to catch him off guard, but then, to your astonishment, he follows your finger with his mouth and licks the remnants off of it.

You stare in silent horror as he smirks and resumes chewing.

"I don't know if I should be disgusted by the fact that you eat like an infant or that you just licked my finger like a freaking popsicle." you blink.

"You liked it, didn't you?"

"Oh hell no!" you screech." In fact, I'd like it if you kept that dirty mouth of yours as far away from me as possible." you say, wiping your finger on the hem of your shirt and then digging in your own slice of pizza.

His eyes darken at your words and he sweeps a look at you shamelessly from head to toe.

"I could take that in a different context but it's better if we don't rush things for now." he says, abandoning what's left of the pizza to the sheet spread on the sand.

You choke.

He chuckles in delight and then leans forward, putting his palms face down on each side of yours. You go cross eyed at the face looming  in front of you as it violates every rule of ethical distance.

"Sharing is caring." he says and stares at the slice of pizza hanging from your lips. You refuse to be flustered by his antics. It had happened a number of times by now but that belonged in the past. Jeon Jungkook had no idea who he was messing with.

Without blinking an eye, you keep munching on the food, not giving a damn if his face was literally a couple of inches from your own. You point a finger at the unfinished slice of pizza laying on the sheet.

"I don't like the crust." he says, without even throwing a glance its way.

"Well, then starve." you deadpan.

With a flick of his wrist, you're robbed of the heavenly delicacy and all that's left is a small chunk of cheese dangling from your lips like a pendulum.

"Hey! That's my food, you idiot!"

He only offers you a smug smile in return.

"Where do you even put all that, anyway? Is there a black hole in your stomach?"

His eyes flick to his abdomen, the expanse of rippling muscles discernable even through the material of his shirt.

"Dunno. Fast metabolism, I guess." he answers while munching away.

Despite promising yourself not to yield, one look at his stuffed cheeks makes your features soften.

How controversial, you thought to yourself.

There he was, sitting in all his glory, overgrown messy hair reaching past his cheekbones, delicate lashes fluttering against his skin and... and his mouth struggling to chew the food in one go.

A loving smile sneaks into your face.

"Jungkook....is it bad that I feel happy?" You let yourself voice the thoughts in your head.

He stops chomping on the food for a moment and silently observes you.

"I mean," you continue. "I know it sounds absurd saying it right now. We're practically homeless and the money we have will barely be enough to get us through this, but....it feels nice. Being with you, I mean. It's different from when I was by myself. I didn't have anyone."

He seems to be contemplating your words, capturing his bottom lip with his teeth.

"That was kinda cheesy." he remarks, while looking at the pizza.

You burst into laughter.

Being with Jin-hyung for too long had definitely made an effect on him.

"But I know what you mean." he continues. "I feel happy too."

A blinding smile breaks across your whole face.

"Come here," he says softly and pats the seat next to him.

After having put some distance earlier, your legs now move on their own accord, snuggling closer to him. You lean your head on his lap and he doesn't object, even daring to run a hand through your hair, untangling it from the messy knots caused by the wind. His fingers are careful, gentle and as they draw invisible patterns against your scalp, you suddenly feel your eyelids droop.

You'd both started to grow more comfortable in each other's presence, not scared to show affection anymore.

It was a good thing, you thought.

You didn't really care about labels. Girlfriend, boyfriend— those were just words that had lost their true meaning nowadays. Did it even matter if in the end you would be willing to give your life for him, dramatic as it might sound?

"Don't sleep." you hear him say, but his skillful fingers still continue to caress you.

"I'm not." you reply with your eyes closed.

His thumbs travel from your head to your face and graze past your jaw. Then, something soft and plump touches the tip of your nose and you open your eyes only to see Jungkook kissing it.

It lasts for a second and he pulls away, taking with him his long dark locks which had tickled your face just a moment earlier.

He leans back on the heels of his hands, satisfied, but it is quickly replaced by surprise when you reach up to kiss his own nose.

You then let your head fall down onto his lap and giggle like a four year-old. He throws his own head back and bursts into laughter.

The action makes his whole body shake and you, having leaned into him, tremble as well, continuosly bumping the back of your head on the solid muscles of his thighs.

"Ouch! Jungkook, stop working out so much. Your thighs are not comfortable."

"I thought you liked my thighs."

"They're nice to look at, but not to sit on. Er.. lean on. I mean lean on."

You almost slap yourself in embarrassment.

His eyebrows shoot up and a lop-sided grin hangs on his lips.

"You can always sit on them if you like." he teases.

You quickly clamp your hand around his mouth, shutting him up for good.

"Shhhh. Let's pretend this didn't happen." you whisper, but as expected, Jungkook kisses the hand around his lips while you're at it.

This boy was gonna be the death of you.

* * *

Wandering through the streets hand in hand didn't exactly make the sun move slower towards the blue line in the horizon. It kept sinking lower and lower as if drawn by an invisible string, ignoring all of your prayers to just stay up for a little longer. It would soon be nighttime and you knew what that meant.

Darkness.

And danger.

The horrors you'd lived through had definitely made their toll on you and even though Jungkook's reassuring hand squeezed your own every time you tensed, you couldn't help but feel a little  frightened.

It was weird, how your incident had made you see things in a completely different way. You felt jittery when you saw ropes or jagged rocks, shrunk into yourself every time an older man came near to your space.

You'd unconsciously developed a fear you didn't even know was possible.

It had been hard the first days at the hotel. Having to fight on your own, with no one by your side, unprotected. Knowing that no one was gonna come to your rescue even if your throat turned raw from screaming.

So you'd held.

Struggled like hell.

Refused to give in to the impending doom threatening to take over you.

But now...

Now you had Jungkook, right?

The boy had been through even worse than you, but here he was, offering to be your shield from now on. You'd surrendered yourself to him, showing him all of your fears and weaknesses and he'd quietly accepted them.

"You okay?" he says and pulls you closer to him when he notices the distance you try to keep from people bumping into you.

"Yeah." you say, wary eyes flicking in every direction. "It's just that I got used at the hotel where there were no...strangers. And lights were on the whole time."

He only nods in return.

"I sound ridiculous don't I?" you add.

"No, not at all." he objects. "I cried for two days after I did...what I had to do, and would swat away every single hand that rested on my shoulders to console me."

Your chest tightens painfully at the honesty in his words.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Jungkook."

He stops walking and turns on his side to face you.

"Hey, we talked about this. It was not your fault."

"But–"

"No buts."

You sigh deeply.

"I keep ruining the mood. We were doing fine a while ago, eating pizza and stuff."

"You're right," he says, eyes lighting up in anticipation. "We need some food. Let's go get something."

He starts to drag you along but you plant your feet on the ground.

"Aren't we spending a little too much?" you ask. "We need to save the money for the flight tickets and if you've noticed, there are no jobs lying around."

"Dammit, I hate it when you're right twice in a row."

A soft chuckle escapes your lips and you wrap your arms around his waist while looking up at him.

"Sorry, can't help it."

"Are you in for an ice-cream though?" he offers.

"Let's count the money first. We don't even know how much we have."

"Alright."

"Um... where should we do it? I don't want people to watch us."

His face distorts, trying to hold in a laughter.

"Oh my God, Jungkook, what the hell?! People accuse me of making dirty jokes all the time, but I'm starting to think you're the real pervert here."

"If I'm a pervert, then how did you know what I was thinking?"

You open your mouth but then close it, not having an argument strong enough to prove him wrong.

He looks at you expectantly, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, yeah, alright. I'm a pervert. You're a pervert. We're all perverts. Now let's go."

You grab his shirt and force him to follow you to the beach once again. It wasn't so crowded since it was almost nightfall and you kinda liked it better than other places.

Jungkook sits down on the sand and pulls out his satchel along with the money inside of it. His fingers flip Euro after Euro, lips moving inaudibly as he counts to himself.

"992 Euros." he says after finishing.

"Wow."

"You earned way more than me, though. I'm ashamed."

"You only worked for one day, Kook."

"And ruined it too. I still can't believe you worked for fifteen hours."

"It's not that big of a deal. Look how toned my arms are."

You flex your biceps proudly but he pushes it down with one hand.

"Not funny." he grumbles.

Dismissing his persistence with a roll of your eyes, you grab the money from his hands and fold them neatly.

"The tickets are 600 euros each. We need at least 200 more."

"It's not that much." he says with a forced air of nonchalance. "Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy."

"How are you so confident?"

"Trust me, everything is possible when you have Jeon Jungkook by your side."

You huff a laughter through your nose.

"Can you get me my bucket hat?" he asks you.

"Why? What do you want it for?"

"It's my lucky charm."

Shaking your head in disbelief, you unzip the suitcase and retrieve the hat from its pocket, putting it a little further on the sand.

"Hey! I said to give it to me!" he whines.

"There's no need to put it on. Lucky charms don't necessarily work that way. Plus, I like seeing your hair."

He grins like a maniac.

"I'm gonna cut it soon."

"Like hell you are!" you exclaim, horrified. "I'll destroy every single pair of scissors if I have to."

His grin only grows bigger.

"Okay, then. Do whatever you want. I'm in your hands."

Damn it.

You'd started to think that it would've gotten easier to handle his flirtatious replies by now.

You were wrong.

You try to fight the furious blush spreading through your neck as you fish for some coins in your pocket and start making shots straight for the hat.

One.

Two.

Clink.

Three.

Clink.

"Wow, you're good." Jungkook breathes.

"You're not the only talented one here, Kooks."

"I beg to differ."

"Well, you can sing."

He hums in approval.

Clink.

"And dance."

Clink.

"And you're good at sports."

Clink.

"And....I don't know, man. I guess you're good at everything." you finish and throw all the coins in one go.

He throws his head back and laughs while clapping his hands like a seal.

"You're still forgetting one thing." he says in a low voice.

"What?"

"I can make you smile."

As if on cue, your lips stretch into a wide smile and it feels like pure bliss.

"Speaking of talents," he continues. "I never got to show you my new song."

You unconsciously lean forward, trembling with anticipation.

"You made a new song?"

"It's not finished yet, but I'd like it if you gave it a listen."

"Please do." you insist.

"Okay, then."

His eyes close on their own and it's like he turns into a whole new person. It left you in shambles every single time. The way he felt each word and sound flowing like sweet honey from his chest.

When I see you smile in the screen

You're good at everything, you're just perfect.

Feels like I've never been you.

Do you even see me?

Do you know who I am?

Or how do I look now?

You don't like me like that.

Come and tell me so much, beautiful heart

Oh how I'm gonna listen to you, please.

All the numbers too big, can't get out of your game

Oh I want to paint it like you, please.

I want to be your decalcomania

I want you

I want to be your decalcomania

I want,

I want you.

Your eyes turn blurry with unshed tears and you're ready to pounce on him and tell him it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever heard in your life, when suddenly you hear the clink of coins in the hat.

A middle aged woman smiles at Jungkook and takes her leave.

You both turn your heads and lock eyes with each other.

Busking it is.

[do-what-the-knight-tells-you]

Broadchurch: the short story collections. Part 1

Available over here.

The first book contains four short stories, all of which take place before S2, so if you want to read this, it might be nice before re-watching S2.

1- “The End Is Where it Begins”, Ellie, After S1: how she comes to transfer precints and end up as the traffic cop we see in S02E01.

2- “The Letter”, Maggie, a few days before S2: STruggles with Echo finances, works on a story, thinks about resigning.

3- “Old Friends”, Jocelyn, 10-20 years before S1: insight into her past, her career, her character, Jack Marshall, and what was going on in town around the time Danny and Tom were born.

4- “Over the Side”, Tess, months before S1 (three days into the Sandbrook case): a twenty-four hour window into that case, her perspective on the case, her affair, and Alec’s behavior/character/etc at that time. This is the night Pippa’s body is found, from her perspective.

I’ve included summaries, my notes, excerpts, and other Things Of Interest under the readmore. this book was interesting, short, and very worth the read, for me!

1. Ellie- Between S1 and S2.

“Going back into uniform was Ellie's choice, but it usually means demotion. It’s shorthand for disgrace. As far as Ellie is concerned, the uniform helps. Her collar and cravat help her hold he head up high, and she walks easily in regulation flat shoes. This is a move sideways,  not downward; she’s still a Sergeant. Her salary stays the same, and that’s important. Ellie’s staring down the barrel of single parenthood, paying for the childcare Joe used to do for free. Resigning would mean sacrificing her pension, and with a good fifteen years of service left in her, that’s not an option. “But there’s more to it than the money. It doesn’t feel right to go back into CID until Joe’s been sentenced. She’s never told anyone this, but it feels like that way, she’ll be able to put Danny behind her. But going into uniform, that felt right. Ellie understands now what Hardy meant about atonement. [Look! Thinking about him!] by serving another community, she can atone for what Joe did to her own. Leaving the force, taking a sabbatical, all the other things tat people told her to do: none of these was an option. This move is, above all else, a massive /fuck you/ to Joe.  Fifteen years, Ellie's been on the force. When he took Danny’s life, he took Ellie's best friend, their community, and her eldest son. She will not let him have her career as well.”

And in the car with her new loudmouth partner: “after ten minutes she finds herself yearning for Alec Hardy’s brooding and sulks. At least he was quiet. She wonders where Hardy is now: under a doctor’s observation somewhere, she hopes, contemplating the salvage of his own career from the confines of a hospital bed.”

In general her new partner is a bit of a sexist good-old-boy who thinks the problem with youth today is the welfare state... She thinks the problem is lack of outreach and enrichment. She is struggling to get everything in line in her life.

Tom’s voice breaks while they are separated. And her heart breaks to have missed that.

She successfully overrides her partner, follows her instincts, and saves a family, some kids, from a domestic situ while on the job… and then falls to fucking pieces after. Realizes she doesn’t have the emotional fortitude to handle cases without breaking, right now. Calls in sick, and then transfers to traffic.  “She is bitterly aware of the irony that while she has gained her colleagues’ respect, she now understands that she doesn’t deserve it. It’s either this or leave the force, and then Joe’s won. She is hanging onto her career by her fingernails, marking time until his plea next week. “Ellie has always prided herself on putting people before anything else but life as a black rat is about enforcing the letter of the law, or rather its numbers. She’s reduced to the digits and codes of traffic policing: stopping distances, speed limits, milligrams of alcohol and penalty points. Even her fellow traffic officers, infamous for their pedantry, started calling her robocop after he first shift. “Inside Ellie's locker, there’s a photograph of Tom and Fred before the blast. She marks a tally on the picture’s white border, inky scratches in the gloss, to count down the days until Joe stands in the dock at Wessex County court and says the magic word that will give her back her son.”

Aw hell, Ellie.

2- Maggie- A few days before S2 begins. 

Budget cuts are crippling the Echo. Finally, she is ready to submit her resignation in protest, but a story she runs down locally (to do with land use, and, eventually, marijuana), turns out to be leveragable to do some good in town, force some good change, and she figures that's still worth doing, so she'll hang in a little longer.

No mention of Lil, so, still not sure when they broke up/if they are split... oh, and a passing mention of Jocelyn's home. Just, that it is there.

3- Jocelyn- Her story is set farther back, but is fascinating. It's set partially at least twenty, twenty five years pre-S1, and then partially right around the time that Danny Latimer was born. 

It's a little window into who Jocelyn was at that time and what she did. Talks about her outlook on her career, her relationship with her mother, her habit of spending no more than four bank holidays a year in Broadchurch, and staying in London, her preference, her work, the rest of the time.

Also, it turns out she represented Jack Marshall and convinced him to plead guilty so that he would get a shorter jail sentence and get back to the Rowena faster, which he did, and then married her.

Jocelyn was quite reserved even then, but they kept in touch and Jack confided in her after the accident that took his son's life and caused their split, that he needed a new place to go... She suggested Broadchurch because she knew the newsstand was up for sale.

The last scene of the short story is her visiting him at the newsstand. She's noticed her vision is starting to go, she's watching the Latimers with their three-day-old baby boy walk along the beach.

There are references to lots of things and folks there in town, throughout the story, the sea brigade, Oliver, the fact that she's lost touch with Maggie long since and she's a bit grateful for that because otherwise Maggie would surely have sniffed out her connection to Jack and outed Jack's past to everyone. Oh, and Ellie is 10 days overdue and fit to burst with Tom and so Beth (Beth and Ellie had become friends in their pre/antenatal classes) had been dropping by with Danny over there, hoping that holding Danny would maybe induce labor.

... and finally.

4- Tess- Day 3 of the Sandbrook case, well before S1

I didn't look ahead, I totally had no idea that this was coming. But this is Tess' side of a 24-hour period from the Sandbrook case. I'm going to sum some of it, and then I'm probably just going to end up posting big chunks of it. Or you can go read it yourself. That's good too. XD

It's April 2012, day 3 after the Sandbrook girls disappear. She and the other DS she's cheating with were getting it on, for what was clearly not the first time, in the backseat of his car. Made a comment about the fact it next time they would take it back to the hotel, doing it in the car was foolish and uncomfortable. Which also seems to imply that this is a regular thing. Tess thinks a bit on the fact that Dave is present with her in a way Alec isn't, though she feels guilty about all of it.

The cheating is a release for her, like other people might smoke a cigarette or go for a run. She knows Alec is really struggling with how close in age Pippa is to Daisy. 

"Alec works sixteen-hour days, forgets to eat, and gets angry. She hasn’t seen him since they got the shout two days ago. He’s sleeping on the sofa in his office, if he’s sleeping at all. At least Tess got four hours in her own bed last night and a shower in her own bathroom. Daisy was staying with a friend; Tess and Alec rely a lot on the generosity of friends’ parents in the first few chaotic days of a case. The house was too quiet this morning. It’s strange; Alec can stay away for days and Tess feels nothing but relief, but Daisy sleeping somewhere else feels wrong."

Tess knows what Alec is like on these cases. Her affair with what's-his-face went on much longer than the case itself. I’d guess months, at least, prior to this story.

"She hasn’t seen Alec since last night. Tess hopes he’s not in the office. The chances are small; as Senior Investigating Officer, he likes to work the field as much as possible. They used to work so well together – professionally, at least, she’s never been more compatible with another officer, and that includes Dave – but at the moment she can’t concentrate if Alec’s even in the same building. Dave sits opposite her at work, and Alec’s got the corner office just behind them. Every time he walks past, she shrivels with guilt and with contempt for her husband. Guilt over the adultery, contempt that Alec can’t see it.

[Lends more weight to Hardy’s perception of the affair, as we saw it in the S1 novelization-- namely that it was shameful, that he felt ashamed to have been cheated on. I bet she says/said something nasty, along these lines, and he internalizes it]

“If she and Dave so much as brushed past each other at a crime scene, he’d notice. That’s the problem in a nutshell: the tunnel vision that makes him a brilliant detective means he hasn’t seen Tess – really seen her – in years."

[Oh God, I see where this is going. This is the night he finds Pippa, isn't it?]

‘Where’s Alec?’ Tess asks Chrissie, a fellow DS who’s already got three empty mugs on her desk. Chrissie creases her brow. As always, whenever Tess refers to her husband by his first name, it takes her colleague a few seconds to get who she means. But what else can she call him? She can’t call him Hardy and she’s damned if she’ll call him the boss or the guvnor.

[”Guvnor”? is this a British thing, or personal nickname? if the latter, Ellie would laugh herself sick over it, if she ever found out.]

“Chrissie checks a memo on her screen. 

“‘He’s overseeing a fingertip search of the river Sandbrook.’ 

“‘The Sandbrook?’ echoes Tess. It’s right on the edge of their patch, a slow-flowing river with great stretches straying miles from the nearest road and barely accessible on foot. ‘On what basis?’ 

“‘On the basis of it’s the only open space left on our ground that we haven’t covered, and there’s still no trace of either girl,’ says Chrissie grimly, her eyes travelling to the clock. Tess flinches at the reminder of how far behind they are, and boots up her computer, not wanting to waste another minute. When Dave comes in, she looks up with a cool hello...”

She thinks about potential leads in the case, she interacts with Dave a little bit, mostly through facial expressions. And then

“Tess is giving Dave one more warning look when his phone rings. His face loses its colour as he listens; Tess pulls out her earplugs but the call is already over. 

“‘That was the boss,’ says Dave, pushing his chair away from his desk, car keys in hand. ‘They’ve found the body of a young girl in the Sandbrook.’ 

“South Mercia University Hospital is across the dual carriageway from the police station, eight storeys of white concrete and foggy windows. 

“‘I knew it’d be murder,’ says Dave, as they get into a lift marked STAFF ONLY. ‘I knew from the first shout, but it doesn’t stop you hoping, does it?’

“‘You always hope,’ says Tess. ‘But I can’t remember hoping like this for a long time.’ Dave reaches for her hand and circles his thumb on her palm. 

“‘You OK, babe?’ His tenderness melts her, but she can only squeeze his fingers in reply. She can’t afford to soften now. The lift spits them out two floors underground and Tess and Dave walk through a dingy yellow corridor lit with flickering strip lights. It is maybe ten degrees colder here than in the station. This is not the way to the viewing room, where victims’ families see their loved ones still beneath a white sheet. This long walk is for the professionals, the dealers in death. There is nothing beautiful down here: a few laundry bags piled in a trolley, a mop and bucket and a yellow CLEANING IN PROGRESS sign. Tess tries very hard not to think about what gets mopped up down here. 

“‘I don’t understand why it’s just the one body,’ she says. ‘Nothing about this case makes sense.’ 

“‘Just the one body so far,’ Dave corrects her. There’s another fire door ahead; he lengthens his stride to open it for her. Tess isn’t used to these little chivalrous touches. She is astonished to find that she quite likes them. 

“‘Did Alec say if he was staying to continue the search?’ 

“‘He pretty much hung up.’ Dave bites his lip. ‘I’m sure he knows, sometimes, the way he talks to me.’ Tess shakes her head. 

“‘That’s how he talks to everyone.’ But she shakes her shoulders, as though to recalibrate her body language, and by the time they get to the end of the corridor, there’s a big space between her and Dave. When – if – they go public, it must be a long, long time after this case has been put to bed. A technician in mint scrubs is waiting behind a glass door; she punches a number into the keypad to let them in. 

“‘Five minutes,’ says the technician. Her voice is steady but she looks like she’s been crying. ‘Dr Kendall’s just preparing her now. You can wait up here.’ 

“Tess and Dave follow the technician on tiptoe up a short flight of stairs. In the viewing gallery, there’s a row of seats, almost like in a cinema, and the blind is down on the panoramic window so it looks like a blank blue screen. There are a handful of flattened paper bags on the table. Waiting for them is Sanjeev, a newish DC. He’s not long out of uniform so he won’t have worked a case like this before. Tess hasn’t spent much time with him, but she knows Alec really rates him. There’s a weird, stale, boggy smell and for a moment Tess retches, thinking it’s the dead-body-rotting smell she dreads so much. It takes her a few seconds to recognise the smell of stagnant river water, and that it’s coming from Sanj. 

“‘Sarge,’ says Sanj to Tess. ‘How comes you’re not upstairs with the boss?’ Tess doesn’t bother to hide her confusion. 

“‘What’s he doing upstairs?’ 

“‘Don’t panic,’ says Sanj. Immediately Tess starts to panic. ‘It’s just a precaution. He got into difficulties in the water.’

“Tess is bewildered. ‘What was he even doing in the water?’ 

“‘He found her,’ says Sanj, dipping his head. ‘Pippa’s body. He carried her out. You know what he’s like, he stalks off on his own, all impatient, no one can ever work fast enough for him. We didn’t even know he’d gone until he’d got her out. He reckons he went under a few times. He took in a lot of water and they’ve got to be careful about it being in his lungs, or Weil’s disease or something.’ Sanj looks down at his feet; he flexes them, and his shoes squelch. Tess is rooted to the spot, horrified at what Alec must have been through today. She is torn. Instinct urges her to go and check on him; after fourteen years of marriage, you can’t just turn off the concern like a tap. But he’ll be in good hands. He probably won’t even want her, he hates being fussed over. And with him indisposed, she’s the senior officer. 

“She’s still debating with herself when the blinds go up and the theatre is revealed in all its spot-lit, chrome glory, and there, splayed on the slab is— Tess’s vision blurs. There’s a whole team of people, but the pathologist and his team, in their scrubs, are reduced to green blobs. Tess can’t look at anything but Pippa Gillespie’s body. It doesn’t look human. It has been completely bloated by the water; her face is swollen and grey, her limbs pasty and distended. Water has matted her hair and dirt outlines her nails. Tess thinks of the picture they have on the board, that perfect little girl, playing tennis, golden skin, long brown hair, and it is all that she can do to stand. She’s seen bodies destroyed by water before, but never one this young. Tears try to push their way out of her eyes but Tess pushes back harder. She’ll cry later, in front of Dave, but she won’t fall apart in public. She gives silent thanks that Pippa can be identified forensically. Her mother will never have to see her like this. 

“She steps up to the microphone, forcing her voice to hold steady. 

“‘DS Tess Henchard,’ she says. ‘Is there anything you can tell us just by looking at her?’ Dr Kendall looks up to the gallery and nods hello. 

“‘Only that she’s been in the water for at least two days.’ There’s a tenderness in his voice at odds with the gleaming surgical instruments in the tray behind him. ‘So that narrows down your time of death, I suppose. As for the cause … I’ll be frank with you, Sergeant. There’s no obvious wound. Water covers death’s tracks. It gets into the body through the orifices and starts decomposing from the inside as well as out. It affects the tox report. We will work quickly, and to the highest standard, but I can’t guarantee that we’ll find the cause of death. Let’s talk in the morning.’ 

“‘Christ.’ She pushes the heels of her hands onto closed eyes, but the image of Pippa’s face is imprinted on the back of her eyelids. She looks to the door; she ought to check on Alec, for form’s sake as much as anything. Dave doesn’t need to be told what she’s thinking. 

“‘I’ve got this,’ he says. ‘You go to him.’ It is possibly the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for her. He places a hand on her arm, a light gesture but it’s not lost on Sanj. Tess notes his double take, then watches as the horror below wipes the suspicion from his mind, for now at least. She leaves Dave and Sanj to watch the post-mortem. 

“In the lift, her legs go. She has pulled herself to her feet by the time she gets to the front desk. The receptionist points her towards Accident and Emergency. Tess concentrates on putting one foot in front of the other, reading the signs, breathing through her mouth, and trying to close her mind’s eye to the sight of Pippa Gillespie’s body, but the image is imprinted on her for ever. Her badge helps her to jump the queue – she can’t help thinking she gets more respect from the triage receptionist as a Detective Sergeant than she would as a wife – but it still takes her the best part of an hour to find out that Alec has discharged himself. She boils with rage – if he’s gone back to the scene with his health in tatters, she’ll kill him. She asks to see the registrar who treated him; another half-hour wait. 

“She calls Daisy, who’s still at Molly’s. They’re lucky she’s popular. If she has dinner with a different friend every night, that can take them ten days into a case. After that, repeat requests usually get awkward. This time, though, everyone knows the case they’re working on. Friends are falling over themselves to have Daisy for the evening, offering sleepovers, weekend shifts, school pickups. ‘Whatever helps you find those girls’ is the phrase they hear again and again. Tess hopes the goodwill continues into the murder inquiry. Lately, she’s been wondering if the hospitality would extend to a single mother trying to juggle shifts around work and a new relationship. 

“‘It’ll be a little while yet,’ says Tess. ‘Home in time to see you to bed, though.’ ‘Have you found her?’ says Daisy. She has become fixated on Pippa Gillespie; she knows they’re the same age, and she can see what the case is already doing to her parents, three days in. Tess feels a pang for the innocent days when Daisy thought that all they did was direct traffic. Tess and Alec naturally never tell Daisy anything before it’s released to the media. ‘Not yet, sweetie,’ she says. ‘Be good for Molly’s mum.’ 

“Eventually, the registrar comes in, a young man smelling of coffee and sweat. There’s a comet of blood on his white coat. ‘Mr Hardy discharged himself against my recommendation,’ he says. ‘I’m telling you because I’m concerned for his health. Physically, he was fine. I mean, the water doesn’t seem to have done any lasting damage. But he’s suffering from acute stress, and there are more tests we’d like to run. With anyone else I’d recommend that he take time off work, but …’ He spreads his hands. Tess doesn’t know whether he’s implying that the case is more important than one man’s health, or whether he’s simply got the measure of Alec already and knows his advice would fall on deaf ears. 

“There’s a voicemail on her phone from Alec’s second in command, DS Beauman, wishing the boss well and telling him that they’ve got SOCO in now. Alec hasn’t gone back to the crime scene. So where is he? Alec is not at home and he’s not answering his phone. Tess sees Daisy off to bed and opens a bottle of red. She searches Google maps on her iPad, scrolling up and down the length of the Sandbrook looking for patterns, clues, inspiration, until she feels dizzy. 

“She calls the incident room; Sanj answers and immediately asks after Alec. So he’s not there. Dave’s working the scene at the Sandbrook; she texts him to see if Alec’s turned up, then again to see if they’ve found anything new. Both questions come back negative. She deletes the message thread out of habit even though this time there’s nothing incriminating. 

“She’s really starting to worry now. This disappearance is completely unprecedented. She pictures him collapsed behind the wheel somewhere en route to the Sandbrook, and she works herself up into a fury. For all his dedication to his job, he neglects what ought to be his number one priority: making sure he’s in good enough health to do it. There’s real fear under her concern, though, and she’s about to call the hospital when she hears his car on the driveway. It’s 10 p.m. 

“As his key turns in the door, she’s waiting for him in the hall. The sight of him makes her stagger. He’s wearing a grey tracksuit, the police-station-issue kind they give to people whose clothes have been seized as evidence. The trousers are too short and his ankles are exposed, making him look ridiculous. His hair is plastered down.

“She stopped touching Alec a while ago--”

[Oh god, I remember that comment in the first novelization, that Miller is the first person to take his hand in so long he couldn’t remember...]

“-- it started to feel like betraying Dave-- and he doesn’t seem to have noticed, or to miss it.”

[Oh God.]

“She hesitates before going to hug him, and when she opens her arms, Alec folds his and shakes his head. Dave wouldn’t do this, is her first reflex thought. 

“‘Where’ve you been? she asks. It was supposed to come out concerned but it sounds derogatory.

“Alec pinches the bridge of his nose. He closes his eyes nd lets them stay that way. ‘Driving.’

“It’s five hours since he discharged himself from hospital. The thought of him going round and around the ring road in these clothes tugs at the leftovers of her love.

“‘Oh, Alec. What about your clothes?’

“He nods to a clear plastic bag on the doorstep. INside, weeds are wrapped around clothes so muddied that Tess has to think back to what he was wearing when he left for work this morning. His new blue suit. They’ll have to throw it out. Even if the can get it clean, she knows he’ll never be able to wear it again.

“When he pushes past her into the house, Tess can smell the soap from the police station showers on him.

“‘D’you wan to talk about it?’ She pours Alec the last of the wine. He looks into its dark red surface like he’s seeing through it into something else. 

“’I saw her in the mortuary,’ says Tess, ‘It must have been awful for you.’ Alec doesn’t even blink. Dave or no Dave, Tess recognises a man who needs human touch. She puts her hands on his shoulders. When they first got together, she used to massage his shoulder blades at the end of every day, feeling the knots unravel under her fingers.

[An interesting detail.]

“He used to say she had the magic touch, that no one else could relax him like she did. Now, he shrugs her off.

“‘ I’m going to check on Daisy.’

“Tess follows him upstairs and they stand at Daisy’s open bedroom door for a while. She is asleep under a garland of IKEA fairy lights, watched over by a peeling Taylor Swift poster. The tweenage sneer she wears all day has vanished. Her lips are an open rose; her brow is smooth. The difference between their perfect sleeping daughter and the deformed corpse of Pippa Gillespie hits Tess in the guts.

“‘Is she breathing?’ Alec asks suddenly, an octave higher than his usual register. ‘I can’t see her moving.’ Before Tess understands what’s happening, he’s kneeling at Daisy’s bedside. He used to do this when she was a baby, leap out of bed to check she was still alive. Tess had completely forgotten about it until now.

[That’s interesting, does he have past trauma with stuff like that? seems like he already had dead-kid PTSD BEFORE he went into the river after Pippa Gillespie. poor sucker...]

“’She’s not moving!’ He puts his hands on Daisy’s shoulders.

“’Alec, stop it!’ Tess keeps her voice to a whisper even though his was a shout, but it’s too late, he’s already shaking her awake. Daisy’s body flops, but her eyes snap wide.

“‘Daddy, what are you doing?’ She says, as Alec pulls her into a clumsy embrace and buries his face in her nightie.Tess doesn’t have enough hands as she tries to pull him off and calm Daisy at the same time. 

[LET THE MAN HUG HIS DAUGHTER]

“In the end, she has to tug at the collar of his tracksuit top. The pressure on his windpipe seems to knock the panic out of him, and he lets Daisy go.

“‘Out,’ snarls Tess.

“‘I’m sorry, darling.’ Alec walks backwards towards the door. ‘I just needed to make sure you were OK.’

“It only takes Tess a couple of minutes to soothe Daisy back to sleep; she’s confused rather than frightened, still young enough that a few soft words from her mother can chase the monsters away, and Tess hopes that in the morning they’ll be able to dismiss it as a bad dream. She waits until Daisy’s breathing regulates, tucks a stray lock of hair behind her daughter’s ear, and tiptoes out onto the landing.

“Alec sits in the half-dark like a little boy, his knees pulled up to his chest, leaning against the wall as if he has slid down it. Tess kneels next to him on the carpet. His eyes glitter.

“‘I can still see her face,’ he says. He holds out his arms in front if him, palms upwards, elbows bent. ‘I can still feel the weight of her.’ Tess pulls him against her shoulder; he resists for a moment, then collapses and weeps into her neck. This time when she reaches around and starts to work on the muscles in his shoulders, he lets her. His back feels like a sheet of metal; she keeps going until her fingers ache and she starts to feel bone and sinew under his sweatshirt. 

[How is this man constantly portrayed/described as looking like he is shit warmed over, and yet he is one of the most compelling/interesting/attractive characters Tennant has ever played???]

“When Tess shifts position, Alec seems to gather himself, like he’s let out exactly the amount of emotion that was clouding his judgement, and not a drop more. He doesn’t move his head from her breast, but there’s an edge to his voice that almost thrills her.

“‘We’re no longer dealing with a missing persons inquiry. We know where we stand now. We’ll get this.’ Without warning, he leaps to his feet. ‘We know who we’re dealing with now. A monster, someone who can leave a child to rot in a river.’ He starts to pace, his ridiculous bare ankles going backwards and forwards in Tess’s eyeline. ‘This is what we trained for, isn’t it? to get justice for families like this.’

“His new confidence is infectious. Tess often forgets, in all the frustration of living with Alec, what a brilliant detective he is. Or rather, she forgets why he’s so good at his job. It’s the quality that first attracted her to him, that pure, almost old-fashioned belief that good can vanquish evil.

“He is a good detective because, underneath it all, he is a good man.

“It’s going to make leaving him so much harder.”

...

Ouch.

See you next time!

[chuffyfan87]

Hiding. Part 55b

“Charlie tells plenty of stories. Not to mention, I worked with you for years.”

"Does he now? Well he can hardly talk!"

“Oh so you’ve got stories about Charlie?” Kate asked joining in the conversation as she sat on the chair.

"After nearly twenty years? Of course I have!"

“Spill. I want to hear some.” Megan laughed.

Duffy took a moment to consider.

“Come on.”

"I'm just trying to work out what stories won't also incriminate me." Duffy chuckled.

“Probably none then.” Megan replied seriously and then laughed harder.

"What do you mean by that?" Duffy huffed.

“You and Charlie have a lot of stories, especially after twenty years together.”

"I don't know why everyone thinks we were always thick as thieves, we were just friends for a fair chunk of that..." Duffy attempted to counter.

“Just friends?” Megan smirked.

"Yes!" Duffy replied. "Unless you can prove otherwise." She added smugly.

“Tell me about these stories then?”

"Well you saw how many times Charlie dug his heels in with the suits Megan."

“Hm, more times than I can remember.” Megan smiled.

Kate was falling asleep on the chair.

"Leave her to snooze." Duffy whispered with a giggle.

“So how are things with you and Charlie? And all the children?”

"Its been an eventful few months but we've survived."

“The girls are coming along leaps and bounds. Especially Emily. How are Jake, Louis and Peter?”

"Yeh, she's coping so well with school. Better than we could have ever imagined. Jake is doing OK, it's amazing that he's been left with no scars after what happened. Things are rather complicated with his dad though. I swear Peter grows six inches every week recently." Duffy's smile faltered slightly. "As for Louis, well, hopefully we'll know more once Charlie arrives in Canada."

“Is he being an idiot like usual?” Megan asked referring to Andrew, “Poor thing. Charlie was really shaken up on the phone when he asked me to come round and keep an eye on you. He worries and cares about you.”

"Andrew is angry that I'm pushing to have the restraining order reinstated." Duffy sighed. "It sounds like physically there's barely a scratch on Louis but not everyone was as lucky."

“So you should. Jake could’ve been killed because of his lax behaviour.” Megan sighed, “Hopefully everyone will be ok.” She paused for a moment, “How’s Peter’s girlfriend? Sarah isn’t it? Is he still with her?”

"Yes, that's who he disappeared off to visit earlier." Duffy smiled. "She's a lovely girl."

“Tell me about her?”

"She's very quiet at first but once she opens up she's quite the chatterbox. The girls adore her. Her dad is a bit of a bore at times but I tend to leave Charlie to deal with him!" Duffy giggled.

“Bout time Charlie did something.” Megan laughed.

"Her mum spends most of her time in a total flap despite only having Sarah and not working. She's a bit Stepford Wives." Duffy grimaced.

“Ah. Not like you?”

"Most of our conversations involve her gasping 'I don't know how you do it all' and fussing."

“And she only has the one child?”

"Yes. Don't get me wrong, she's lovely but you should have seen her face when she found out that I'd bought cakes for the bake sale at the girls' school rather than baking them myself."

“Tut tut Duffy, should’ve baked like a proper housewife.” Megan smirked.

"I know! How dare I be at work saving someone's life when I should have been baking cakes!" Duffy replied sarcastically.

Megan laughed, “You’re admirable. I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure how you and Charlie would cope.”

"What do you mean?"

“I won’t pretend I was thrilled at the prospect of you and Charlie.”

"You've never really explained why. Don't try and fob me off with the whole age thing and the fact he was my boss. There was more than that."

“He was your boss. He was older. He was married. You both were married.” Megan sighed, “I didn’t want him to hurt you.”

"Why did you think he would hurt me?"

“I just thought he would. Charlie didn’t have the best reputation with women back then. Going from one bed to the next.”

"I would have happily entertained him in mine back then." Duffy blurted out without thinking.

“Duffy!!” Megan was taken aback by her comment.

Realising what she'd said Duffy blushed.

“I am shocked by that comment, young lady!”

"I've not been a 'young lady' for quite some time!" Duffy giggled.

Megan shook her head fondly as she listened to Duffy giggle.

"Those days seem like another lifetime ago." Duffy sighed.

“When you didn’t have all these little terrors fighting for your undivided attention?”

"Something like that." Duffy smiled. "I couldn't have gotten through that time without you and Charlie though."

“We didn’t do anything, not really.”

"Now you're starting to sound like Charlie."

Megan laughed, “I’ve spent too much time around him.”

"You and me both!"

“Have you and Charlie thought of any names yet?”

"That's a bit of a touchy subject..."

“Why?”

"We are totally unable to agree."

“What do you like? What does Charlie like?"

"I like Thomas and Oliver."

“But Charlie doesn’t? Oliver’s nice." Megan mused. "I like that name. Maybe I need to have a word with Charlie!”

"Good luck with that!"

“He’s a challenge.”

"Luckily I've always liked a challenge."

“You make beautiful children. You and Charlie.”

"Thank you." Duffy blushed.

“Is this baby definitely the last?”

"Why does everyone keep asking us that?"

“Because we never know with you two.”

"What do you mean?"

“You’re both obviously very fertile.”

"I think that's going to run out before much longer."

Megan smiled, “You’ve had lovely children.”

"True. Maybe it's time to sit back and contemplate the terrifying possibility of grandchildren."

“Is Peter having sex?” Megan asked, her eyebrow raised.

"The idea has been discussed. I'm not happy but apparently I'm supposed to just grin and bare it or risk alienating my eldest son."

“And what does Charlie think about all this?!”

"He's practically encouraging Peter to go for it!"

“What?!” Megan was horrified at the suggestion.

"He's decided that they're smart enough to be sensible. I've no idea where he's got that idea from."

“I can’t believe Charlie would be so stupid or irresponsible.”

"Neither can I but he claims to know best!" Duffy rolled her eyes.

“I’ll be having strong words with Charlie when he gets back!”

"I'll enjoy watching that!"

“He won’t enjoy it.”

"All the better!" Duffy laughed.

Megan laughed. “Fancy a hot chocolate?”

Duffy hesitated.

“What’s wrong?” Megan noticed her hesitation and frowned.

"I want to say yes..."

“So what’s stopping you?”

"You'll think I'm being silly..."

“Tell me?”

"What Jake said earlier..."

“About you being fat? He’s a silly little boy. You’re not fat Duffy. This is the only time in any of your pregnancies I’ve seen you at a healthy weight.”

"He's got a point though. I can barely stand."

“And that’s because the baby is pressing on your pelvis and causing you pelvic pain. It’s quite common in pregnancy, many women have to use crutches or go on bed rest. It has nothing to do with your weight or the size of the baby.”

"I've gained so much weight in the last couple of weeks since having to use the crutches though."

“And you’ll lose all the weight. You always do.”

"So you do think I'm fat?"

“No Duffy I don’t think you’re fat. I think you’re a healthy weight! For the first time in a very long time.”

"I've gained over two stone!"

“I’m sure you and Charlie will figure out a way of losing it.” Megan paused, “You look fine, Duffy. Healthy with a glow.”

"Don't suggest that to Charlie. That's how we ended up with the twins!"

Megan laughed, “Tell him to go back to the doctors for the snip. And keep it snipped this time.”

"We'll see." Duffy shrugged.

“Can I make you that hot chocolate?”

"You're not going to give up are you?"

“Should know me by now, Duffy. When do I give up?”

"OK, you can make me a hot chocolate but can you at least use the green top milk?"

“Of course I will.”

"Thank you."

Megan got up and went into the kitchen.

Duffy got up and retrieved a blanket to drape over her mum.

Her mum stirred a little but remained asleep.

Duffy managed to get sat back down before Megan reentered the room.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you were doing.” Megan replied with a smile as she handed Duffy a mug.

"I didn't want her getting cold." Duffy took a sip of the drink.

“You’re anxious and distracted. What’s wrong?” Megan could read her like a book, almost as good as Charlie.

"What if Charlie doesn't get back in time?"

“If he doesn’t, I’m sure you’ll find a way to manage.”

"I know he was there when Louis was born and he was one of the first to hold Peter but..."

[you-exist-in-words]

I used to love you

and though I never want to go back

isn’t it nice to know

I eye the bag of unopened oranges on the counter suspiciously. How long have those been there? The soft plastic of the orange bag rips painfully under my finger tips and I can already see the green splotches of mould. I hold my breath and throw a couple in the garbage. I place the uninfected fruit in a bowl on the counter. 

Dishes that have been stewing in the sink for days get scrubbed meticulously, and then scrubbed again. I leave the pots and pans to soak and move to the floors. I’m not even sure where to start with the floors. I vacuum because the entire apartment is covered in a powdery layer of dust. There’s a bucket and mop in the closet and cleaner in one of the top cupboards. I have to stand on a chair to reach it. “Aloha scent” the bottle tells me. Not exactly sure what that means but it has to be better than “old garbage smell”. I mop the floors but there’s still bits of dust speckling the ground. I’ll come back to that later. To the bedroom. The bed get’s stripped, pillow cases, comforter cover and sheets go in the washing machine with the dishcloths on hot. The pillows and duvet go out on the porch to air out in the sunshine. There’s so much to do I’m on to something new before I’ve finished the thing I’ve already started. I go into the bathroom and fill the toilet with cleaner. Then I spray the entire thing with lysol. It’s going to be scrubbed. I’m not actually ready to do that yet. Back to the kitchen. 

I dry and organized the dishes and quickly rearrange the contents of the fridge. I want the counter to be clear. The kitchen is drowning in lysol as I spray it, liberally, on the counter, the sink, and the stovetop. The stove is going to need more than lysol. I find some stove cleaner in a cupboard, how convenient. I drizzle over the decadent mass of grease stains and old food stuck to the range top and go back to the bathroom. Lysol is sprayed gloriously across the sink and countertop. Now my favourite part. Windex. I love windex, it should go on everything. I spray the mirrors and the faucets and then take it back tot the kitchen and do the fridge, microwave and dishwasher. Things are looking better. 

But I notice the floor again and remember something still needs to be done about the dust chunks. While organizing the avalanche of plastic bags under the sink I find the Swiffer pads. This is about to get exciting. I put on the Swiffer song because why not. “One way or another, I’m gonna find you, I’m gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha” blondie sings. I run around the apartment singing and dancing while revelling in the way the Swiffer actually does get all the corners. I am a living cleaning commercial. It’s weird how much fun I’m having. I vacuum one more time and am finally satisfied with the state of the floors. 

The washing machine beeps and the bedding goes in the dryer. I walk out of the bathroom and my eye can’t help but be drawn to the huge fishtank on the counter. Now that everything else is tidy it calls for so much attention. I stare at it and breathe in deeply. This is a showdown. The memory of chunks of dead fish being scooped out of the tank creeps into my though like a bus slamming into a brick wall. I can feel my stomach lurch. The salsa jar that was used to scoop up the fish chunks is still sitting in the tank under 3 inches of murky dead fish water. I think I’ll go scrub the toilet. The burning smell of cleaning products clears away the fish thoughts. After round one with the toilet I coat the entire thing in bowl cleaner and lysol once again. The laundry isn’t ready yet so I’m not sure what else to do. I organize the bathroom drawers. I can feel the fishtank watching me. I fold the blanket on the living room chair, bring the pillows and comforter back in from outside. I give the fish tank a side eyed glance. I decide to fix the light in the corner of the living room space. I squeeze by the fish that’s still alive and try not to think about it too much. It sits in the corner of its little square tank looking very dead. I inch up to it, leaning away in case it decides to suddenly leap out of the tank and onto my face. I tap the tank. The water sloshes back and forth and the fish sways in the water without moving, exactly like a fish that is dead would do.

“I swear to god if you’re dead I’m going to be very angry with you,” I tell the fish.

The dryer beeps and I’m relieved to have something else to think about. Saved by the bell. I make the bed, fold all the clean laundry and sort it by colour. I even spend time matching all the socks. Then I scrub the toilet within an inch of its life.

When I’m finally done I have to admit to myself that the only thing left to deal with is the fish tank. I stand by the door and look at the apartment. It’s beautifully clean. Shiny floors, polished counters, everything is straight and organized. I move the cutting board a third of an inch so it’s exactly parallel with the edge of the counter. The fucking fish tank glares at me in all it’s disgusting glory. I go over to look at the real fish. It still looks dead but it’s in a different corner so I guess it’s alive. “I hate you,” I tell it. 

I take a deep breathe. It’s time to face the beast. I take the lid off the empty tank. When I reach my hand into the greyish water and pull out the salsa jar I actually scream. I squeal the entire time it’s in my hand and all the way to the garbage. I can feel my face getting red. This is more stressful than any test. I’d rather write an exam I haven’t studied for, on a subject I’d never heard of, naked, than touch the fish water again. I go back over to the tank, carefully pulling all the tank accessories out of the water and putting them in the sink. I hold my breath the entire time. All that’s left is the tank. I pick it up slowly, both repulsed and terrified. If I drop this, if I get dead fish water on me, I will just jump over the balcony because I don’t want to live for more than 5 seconds like that. I make it to the sink. The tank wobbles a little when I place it on the edge of the sink and my heart leaps into my throat. Carefully, and as fast as I can I tip the tank into the sink, my panic swirls down the drain with the water. I fill the empty tank with hot water and soap and leave it to soak. I can’t believe I just did that. I jump in the air and give myself a high five before realizing exactly how lame that just was. I don’t care. It is smooth sailing. 

The fish tank gets reassembled and goes behind the counter. I don’t want to look at it ever again. I check on the live fish again. He’s moved. I give him the side eye but decide it’s better not to look at him funny in case he gets the wrong idea. I can’t believe I’m done. I take a shower, washing all the mouldy orange, dirty toilet and dead fish grime off of my body. I walk in and out of the bathroom a few times just so I can walk into the clean apartment over and over. I’m very pleased with myself.

The door handle clicks and he walks in the door. The look of astonishment on his face gives me so much happiness. He pulls me into a hug. It’s so clean he exclaims— thank you. But it is I who should thank him, for letting me love him all day, even on my own.

[novarasalas]

Second Look Review: The Last Stand Pts. 1 & 2

I’m having a bit of trouble with this one. Not just this one, but the rest of this season.

I think it would be easier for me if I hadn’t just been making clips from earlier seasons for my videos. Cause damn, this is a huge departure from when we started.

And I casually throw around the phrase “shit gets real”, but, this time, I mean it.

There’s now a sense of realism that this show only barley hinted at in the first episode.

And it’s just the stupidest thing, but the part that’s messing me up the most is that, now, we’re in the military. Of course I knew what the Galaxy Garrison was. It’s got ‘garrison’ right there in the name. But… I’m not a fan of military stuff, which is a bit hypocritical as one of my favorite movies is “Independence Day”. I suppose it’s hard for me to accept that, say...Lance, the goofy, dork of a child, is part of a military institution. He’s a soldier.

I mean, the Paladins have been through war stuff already. But now it’s Earth war stuff; things that are immediately familiar.

I uh...I have some hang ups. If I’m seeming a bit down on all this, it’s a me thing. The show itself is still good. It’s now just suddenly not my thing.

Let’s get down to it.

Part 1

First thing: I love the Holts, ok? Sam is already amazing, and Colleen is a spitfire. You can definitely see where Pidge gets it. If they could adopt me like, right now, that’d be great.

That said, Sam is extremely idealistic. The first thing he wants to do once he gets back to Earth is tell the whole world what happened to him.

Sanda shuts him down:

Sanda: If we told the world there was an imminent attack, we’d set off a global panic.

That reminded me of this, from Men in Black:

And it’s about aliens too. Nice.

She’s not wrong. At least, I don’t think she would be in our modern reality. My city is one sports championship away from spontaneously combusting...again (thank god our teams all suck). I’d really hate to imagine what would happen in this situation in the here and now.

And Sanda wasn’t wrong about sending signals into space, either.

Sanda: Any contact with alien species needs to be run through the appropriate channels.

In the end, she acquiesces, only for them to make contact with Matt, who tells them to stop broadcasting.  Welp.

Sanda’s in an unenviable position. How would you react if someone told you that space magic is real and now there’s a risk of alien invasion, and a knockoff band of Power Rangers was your only hope? She didn’t excuse herself from the meeting to stand out in the hallway and scream, which is what I'd have done. But now she has to consider the safety and well-being of the entirety of the Earth, without causing mass hysteria throughout the populace.

There are no good answers. Not in real life. And this is uncharted territory for everyone involved.

So they build weapons in secret.

I have to say, I like how they’ve designed their new tech. They didn’t try to emulate Altean aesthetics, and instead stuck with a more conventional, modern Earth look.  

War planes, energy cannons, and a particle barrier. They’re working on their own Castleship. They even have “the best pilots to come out of the Galaxy Garrison in the last year.”

But it’s not enough, and Sam forces Sanda’s hand, telling the Earth about everything. As it turns out that Sanda was wrong, and instead of panic, the world comes together to help save themselves.

And in the end, it’s too little too late.

What a bunch of losers.

We’re not given much of a timeframe on these events. At the beginning of the episode, the screen reads “FOUR YEARS EARLIER”. But where in those four years does the invasion happen? If Sanda had allowed for help earlier on, would it have made a difference?

I’m thinking….no. Sendak knows what he’s doing. The Earth was screwed from the start.

Part 2

So now you’ve found yourself being overrun by alien invaders. Yikes.

And these invaders have this to say about you’re ability to fight them.

Planetary surface reports indicate offensive capability, extremely low.

I wonder if they’d say that about us now. We still have enough nukes to blow ourselves up several times over. Does this future Earth still have that?

They’ve never said much about Earth in the Paladins time, so I came up with something on my own.

I think Earth is peaceful. And I think that because the general scope of the Garrison seems to be exploration, not military power. Of course, they’re not slouch in that department either. I can’t quite explain why they’d still have active military, except that ya know...shit happens.

The overall diversity of the place tells me this, too. If this was strictly military, I don’t think they’d be letting foreigners into their ranks. This is me, assuming again, that Lance is from actual Cuba, and Hunk is from actual Samoa.

Diversity, and bases all over the world. Also, the fact of everyone coming together to protect the planet.

And I think it might be because of this:

Veronica: It’s an older setup from World War III.

That’s pretty damn significant. And it’s the last we hear of it.

Did humanity learn it’s lesson after that? Was this war so bad that everyone found their chill in the aftermath? And is it recent enough to have been within living memory for a sizable chunk of the population?

I’m gonna say yes. Look at the chiefs:

At least four of them at the table have medals on their uniforms.

So my theory is this: World War III happened around 40 years prior. The ones with the medals were awarded these medals for their services during that war. The war was so bad that everyone wised up and stopped all that nonsense. They got rid of the worst of their weapons. Now, the people of Earth have come together to explore the universe.

….hey, why not? We might find out more in season 8. Or we might go right back into fantastic space battles.

Also, I’d like to say that Sanda is also a veteran. She’s just...such a hard ass. She didn’t get that way on her own.

She’s also the one in charge.

Aliens are attacking, Admiral! What should we do?

Why, send in the least effective of our attacking fleet, of course!

Sam: You’ve just doomed those men and women.

And one, in particular.

Yeah, Adam was actually doomed as soon as he was introduced as Shiro’s ex. I’m going to talk more about this at the end of the review, because otherwise it’s just going to throw off the flow.

So, the cities of the world are razed.

Again, I’m having a hard time with this. Military movies, disaster movies….I’ve lost my taste for them. I’d rather spend my time on something hopeful. I guess, in the end, it is hopeful, because we as the audience know that Voltron will eventually save the day. But this lead up is brutal.

So, did you survive the invasion? Or do you think you’d have been one of the ‘able bodied citizens’ taken captive?

I know I’m dead. I’m soooooo dead.

Probably not in the initial attack; they always go for the cities first, and I’m at the edge of nowhere. In the end, it wouldn’t even be the Galra that get me.

It’s my chronic illnesses. If I don’t get my meds, I’m done for. So when I see a story about invasion and people getting cut off and isolated, I get a bit...uncomfortable. And that’s a bit part of why I’m having such a hard time with the back half of this season. In my head, all I can think is “oh god, I’m boned. I’m sooo screwed.”

But who knows? Maybe in this future Earth they can cure what’s wrong with me. Or maybe there’s ways to prevent you from getting sick in the first place. Then again, they couldn’t really help Shiro, so...

….

Auuuggggghhhh!!!

This is bringing me down way too much! I gotta find something great…

Ah! The squad!

The aftermath of season 7 online was a mess. I saw way too many people complaining that adding these four was a waste of narrative. Those people have toe fungus and need to get a hair cut, because the MFE pilots are great. I wish we’d gotten to see more of them.

I made a video of her moments a bit back and talked about this there, but I’ll say it again: I love Leifsdottir, and I love that she’s autistic.

Also: Veronica

Rizavi: I like her.

Same, Rizavi. Same.

I wish I hadn’t read the reviews before season 7. I’d have loved to have gone in blind, not knowing that this is that Veronica, Lance’s sister. I’d have never guessed. She’s so professional.

I wonder if she was like her brother when she was a Garrison cadet. We later see a lighter side of her, and right after that, we see Serious Lance again. Yeah...I’m going with that. I bet Lance entered the Garrison, and the instructors all began lamenting “Oh god...not another one.”.

Also, have you noticed the diversity here at the Garrison? There’s a good split of men and women, and all kinds of varying skin tones. It’s great to see.

This episode does end on a high note, or rather, as high as it can, with a message sent to Voltron with the hope that they get there in time.

And Sam Holt gives a speech.

Earth has been conquered.

We are the last holdout in an evil occupation.

And we must face the facts: our supplies are running out.

They have hammered us and hurt the ones we love.

Our backs are completely up against the wall.

And nothing makes us more dangerous.

We only have enough resources for one last stand.

Regardless of the outcome, if we stand united,

we will let them know, the planet Earth, our home,

will not go down without a fight.

…

I still really like that movie, ok?

---

Now, about Adam.

When I went online after watching the season, I was expecting to hear a bit about his fate, but I never expected all...this. And anything I have to say has already been said better by many other people.

I’m firmly of the idea that the showrunners had nothing to apologize for.

See, like I said, Adam was doomed as soon as he was introduced. He was only ever meant to serve as plot device. Take away the approval for him to be Shiro’s ex, and you’re left with Shiro’s close friend who died at the hands of Sendak. It’s meant to make you feel bad; it’s meant to make you feel unsafe. His death tells you “This is war, and anyone can die.”

But then, Shiro was allowed to be gay. And now Adam wasn’t his roommate, he was his boyfriend.  

The narrative needed someone who was close to a main character to show that war is hell, but not too close as to be excessively cruel to the audience.  The narrative also needed someone to show that Shiro was queer. It’s just how things worked out.

This is something we’ll have to get used to as better representation begins to filter in. There will be missteps, and there will be hurt feelings. But it is progress.

There are good conversations to be had about this. But none of those conversations are happening here.

In the end, Adam was a brave man, who once upon a time loved another man. He died a hero.

In summary:

This was brutal. It actually happened: Sendak has done everything short of destroying the whole of the Earth. I had really, really been hoping that the fight would stay in space.

The episodes were well made, with a great bit of story to be told. But my own issues got in the way of me liking them. Ah, well...it happens.

...

The Garrison is all 70s aesthetic. I don’t like 70s aesthetics...

Next up: The boys are back in town.

[thequeenshuntress]

day 11: coffee shop

A/N: Modern AU where they meet in Sirius' coffee shop.

Anastacia enters the coffee shop, immediately feeling nostalgic. She's come home from college for the holidays and her favorite cafe hasn't changed one bit. Her father says the owner, Sirius Oswald, still runs the place. It's a very homey place--brown walls with soft gold highlights, typography of positive messages and little trinkets littered the spaces. The lighting was perfect for studying or a cozy brunch.

The cafe is quiet when she arrived. A small group of women were occupying a table near the cup displays and a couple on the far right. She approaches the counter and notes the pastries in the glass display--seems like they've changed some things from the menu she was used to.

"Can I get your order?"

She looks up to meet green eyes with jet black hair and her heart stops. The man by the cashier is gorgeous, she thinks, too stunned by him to respond.

"I, uh, I'll have a chocolate frappe," she said tamely, "and a strawberry tart please."

She swiftly paid for her order and sat down by the window, looking for the specific table she had etched on before she left. It was still there, strangely enough. Sitting down, she took out her pen and notebook and started to scribble down her notes. Even if she was on holiday, she had to keep her grades up to maintain her scholarship.

After a while, the server--a different guy with bright pink hair and a green apron--approached her table. "Here's your order!" he cheerfully greeted her, setting them on the table. She smiled back at him.

"Are you new here? I haven't seen you around."

"Oh, it's been a while since I went here. My family lives here and I'm staying with them for my school break."

He smiles and holds out his hand. "Oh, is that so? I'm Fenrir. It's nice to meet you." She laughed and took his hand. "Been here for a couple of months now."

Anastacia nods and takes her frappe, swirling it around so that the whipped cream mixes in. "I'm Anastacia. It's been about a year since I last came here. No wonder you've never seen me."

He nods and starts to head back to the kitchen. "Just call any of us if you need something, okay?"

Anastacia waves goodbye and she starts to eat her dessert, focusing back on her notes.

---

She comes back two days later and sees Fenrir by the cashier. She orders the same drink but with a neopolitan macaron and happily takes the order.

This time, the guy by the cashier on her first day back serves her order. She watches him as he quietly sets down the plate and glass, somehow mesmerized by his looks. Ray, she thinks, noting the nametag on his chest.

"Did you need something else?" Ray asked in a low tone, almost as if whisepring to her.

She blushed, looking down on the table. "O-oh, no, I'm okay. Thank you."

Anastacia saw a small smile on his face and she felt her heart rate speed up. She took a sip of her drink to cool her down.

---

"Hey there, little lady."

Anastacia looks up from her notes, seeing Sirius standing in front of her.

"Hey!" she smiles at him. Sirius has been like an uncle to her, being friends with both of her parents. He sat down in front of her and she notice he hasn't changed much since they last saw each other.

"Still studying hard as always. There's not much people here during the winter holidays, so you're in luck." He sits across from her, leaning his arms on the table. "It's often noisy here on summer break."

She tilts her head. "Why is that?"

"A lot of school girls come here to see my staff." He laughs softly. "Most of the time to flirt with them."

"I have to say, they are quite handsome.." she trails off, suddenly thinking about Ray. Her heart pounds a little and she blushes.

Sirius catches her reaction and grins, talking in a teasing tone. "Oh, looks like someone's caught your attention. You can flirt with them. After all, you're a pretty lady yourself."

"Oh my gosh, stop." She smacks his arm playfully, feeling the blush spread.

He smiles and gets up, ruffling her hair fondly. "Well, I don't mind if you stay the whole day. Business is slow during winter. I'd be glad to see you around." He walks away, mumbling to himself about starting his mint flavor collection next month.

---

"You're here quite often."

She shifted her gaze from the window to meet green eyes and her heart jumped. Ray stood by her table, setting her drink in front of her.

"Oh.." she trailed off, trying to calm her heart. "I'm here on break. I frequent this cafe when I used to live here."

He nods. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

She shakes her head and he sits across her. She looks out the window at the people passing by, taking a break from her studying.

"So, how long have you been working here?" She might as well try to make small talk with him now. The cafe was almost empty, save for another couple seated closer to the counter.

"Hm, a couple of years now." He reaches out to her notes, flipping them around for him to read. "You want to become a patissier?"

"Yeah, it's my dream to become one. My mother taught me when I was younger and I want to continue and preserve her recipes." She smiled, reminiscing about her memories with her mother.

Anastacia looks at him as he's busy reading through her notebook. He had a boyish smile on his face, his green eyes shining like emeralds in the afternoon sun. His jet black hair framed his face well and she couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to run her hands through them. His curved lips were very tempting, and she watched them move as he spoke.

He grinned. "You're staring."

"O-oh, sorry.." She replied, flustered. The cafe bell rang and a rather large group of friends came in, happily chatting with one another.

"Gonna go back to work." He said as he stood up, handing her notebook back. She felt a bit disappointed that he was leaving already.

Crossing the table, he leaned down and whispered in her ear before he left. Her cheeks were red as he ventured back to the kitchen.

"You're really cute, you know."

---

Over the course of the next few days, Ray would sometimes sit at her table and chat with her. They talked about several things, like how he likes cats and she has a sweet tooth. Sometimes she would spend a good chunk of her day just talking to him instead of studying. She often goes to the cafe alone, so she doesn't mind his company.

One day, a friend of hers had come to town and wanted to spend some time with her. She agreed and they met up at the front of the shop, coming through the door together.

"Oh wow, this place is amazing! I'd spend a lot of time here too if I lived here," Marlene remarked, looking around the place.

Fenrir was at the register and took their order. "Take a seat, we'll get your orders ready in no time." He smiled at them as they left.

Marlene nudged her side and leaned close. "The staff here are pretty handsome, aren't they. That guy who took our order was cute!" She sighed dreamily. "I wonder if he has a girlfriend.."

She shrugged, trying to not think about if Ray had a girlfriend. "Maybe you should ask him when he gets here."

"Aw come on, you've been here a lot! You must've noticed or something. The guy coming over here is pretty cute too." Anastacia follows her gaze and sees Ray approaching them, a tray in his hand with their orders. She blushed as she felt her heart pound.

Ray stopped at their table. "I got your orders here." He set the plates and glasses down, tucking the tray under his arm afterwards. He glances at her and smiles. "It's nice to see you brought a friend over with you. You're always alone when you come here."

"Yeah, she's a good friend of mine." She shyly smiles back at him and reaches for her spoon absent mindedly, knocking it sideways and off the table. As if by instinct, they both reached down to retrieve it, their fingers brushing upon contact.

Anastacia is the first to pull away, surprised. She sits back up straight as Ray stands with the spoon in his hand. "Wait here, I'll get a new one."

She notices his pinks are tinged pink as he leaves.

"He's seriously cute. And a gentleman too!" Marlene takes a sip of her drink. "I think he likes you though."

"What?"

"I said he likes you," she says factually.

She shakes her head. "He does not."

"Did you see how he looked at you as he came to the table? Nevermind, you were too busy oogling hi--ow!" She winces as Anastacia kicked her foot under the table. "Look, I've seen that look on another guy and that was on my previous ex boyfriend's face before he asked me on a date. And that blush on your face tells me you like him too."

Did she like him? Well, she can admit that he is handsome. He's also pretty nice and friendly. Great smile, gorgeous eyes, sensual voice, and his hands are so warm and soft..

"Here's a new spoon."

She's snapped out of her thoughts by Ray's voice. He places the spoon on her plate, far from the edge of the table. She thanks him and he leaves to attend to another customer.

"I'm telling you," Marlene says inbetween bites of her cake. "he likes you."

Anastacia gives her a look as she realizes that maybe she does like him. "Oh shut up and eat."

---

It's the last week of holiday break and she's back in the cafe, grinding over her book. She doesn't notice Ray as he sets her order down nor when he sits across her. He rests his elbows on the table and leans close to her.

Surprised, Anastacia moves away. "Ray, don't surprise me like that!" He laughs softly as she pouts a little. "I'm going back to the dorms next week and I was hoping to finish this during the break."

"Does that mean you're leaving soon?"

She notices the tinge of sadness in his voice. That also meant she wouldn't be going back here to the cafe when school starts.

"There's still another week before I do." she says, reaching for her glass. He watches her as she takes a drink.

"Seems like you need a break though," he remarked. "Did you actually do anything besides study?"

"Well.." she thought about it. "I spent time with my family and didn't have to go to school."

"That doesn't sound very fun." He had a thoughtful look on his face. "Do you have any plans tomorrow?"

She shook her head.

"Good." He smiled at her. "Meet me here tomorrow evening. I'll take you to a place where you can have fun."

She blinked at him. Did he just ask her on a date?

Before she could respond, he got up from his seat and stopped beside her.

"It's a date then."