#but like... this actually is kind of insane and i hope muriel was the one to be like “i can play scourge... i guess” but i doubt it

[hellothereiplaygames]

Some thoughts on Asra's route...

Replaying Asra's route after having played Muriel's really hits different...

In one of the other routes Asra and Muriel appear to start a romantic relationship, and in Asra's route it's very clear that Muriel cares very deeply for Asra and dislikes the Apprentice. He mentions in one of the paid? dream scenes that he's worried about Asra and the Apprentice fading into their own world and leaving everyone else behind (again, apparently), and that he's determined to stop this from happening. His concern for Asra and initial hostility toward the Apprentice may be rooted in jealousy, not only because his oldest (and only) friend was more or less taken from him, but perhaps with romantic connotations as well.

In Book XI: Justice, Asra and Julian stage a mock trial by combat against Muriel. Though he apparently agreed to participate and is implied to have returned to the Coliseum of his own volition, presumably out of concern for Asra, who has been accused of being Julian's accomplice... he is still more or less backed into a corner and forced to play along with Asra and Julian's plan to stage a fight.

Now, to be fair to Asra, he states after everything goes wrong that it wasn't supposed to end this way, and it appeared that he was attempting to not only exonerate himself and Julian from their charges but somehow help Muriel overcome his past (he does disintegrate Muriel's chains during the fight no matter what choices you make). There was a point during this that I thought I could guess what Asra's plan was regarding Muriel's past, but being refreshed on how it actually pans out, I can't remember it now. Something about making the people of Vesuvia realize how barbaric the Coliseum was under Lucio.

The thing that stands out to me throughout this whole ordeal is that Asra knows about Muriel's trauma. He knows he was enslaved to Lucio and forced to fight and execute people in the Coliseum. He knows that Muriel is terrified of hurting other people, especially those he cares about. In Asra's route, the only person Muriel cares about is Asra, so hurting him is triggering for him. He literally is in a stupor after the board he was using as a weapon splinters off and hits Asra in the mouth, making him bleed. This is clearly meant to make the reader worried about Asra, but Muriel reacts as well, and appears hypnotized by the blood. I remember the first time I read this I thought he was going to have some crazy berserker-Hulk sort of reaction, but having read his route, it's way more tragic.

Though Muriel did seem to return to the Coliseum of his own volition, it does seem that Asra took this as a sign that he was coming to terms with his trauma. He was willing to exploit Muriel's care for him in order to save his own skin so he can be with the Apprentice. Though I recognize Asra's other toxic traits to some degree, I also have similar ones myself so they don't really stand out to me. This, however, where he more or less disregards Muriel's feelings on the matter, is actually really crushing. In Muriel's route, his whole thing is that he DOES NOT want to fight, he DOES NOT want to even spar with the Apprentice with blunt sticks out of fear of hurting them, so why would he willingly go along with this unless he was more or less in the same position Lucio put him in? Fight in the arena, or something bad will happen to Asra.

Asra knows this, and puts him through it regardless. During the whole fight, Julian's actions are written so as to make it seem like he's the one messing things up--he takes the "finishing blow" that Muriel was going to deal to Asra and gets knocked unconscious. Asra spends most of the entire time doing flashy, dramatic magic tricks that get the crowd cheering for him. After he "wins", he and the Apprentice are carried out of the Coliseum like heroes. Though Asra will try to soothe Muriel if the Apprentice so chooses right before the end, and he does look for Muriel in the crowd, he seems otherwise unbothered or unaware of the impact this may be having on his oldest friend. Which is pretty shitty.

Of course, Asra, Julian, and Muriel are all playing characters during their fight--Asra is the flashy magician, Julian is the rogueish BDSM dagger guy, and Muriel is the Scourge. Asra obviously can't show his concern even if he wanted to because he's supposed to be fighting Muriel. But putting his bro into this situation in the first place says a lot about his character. Though Julian is the one whose route is based around self-loathing because he believes he hurts everyone around him, Asra is the only one who gets what he wants out of this ordeal, and he even says so right before the chapter ends. Muriel was forced to relive his trauma and didn't get the resolution that was intended, and Julian gets KOed by a punch that literally sent him flying across the arena (though he probably enjoyed it tbh, he's a nasty little man like that lmao).

I wonder if this dynamic between Asra and Muriel was intentionally written this way in order to further amplify his tunnel vision when it comes to the Apprentice. Is this is how he acted in the past, causing Muriel to hate the Apprentice as he does and remark that he won't allow it to happen again? Maybe (probably) I'm reading too much into it, but as a survivor of abuse and trauma it rubs me the wrong way much more than Asra's obsessive, clingy nature. Of all of the reversed ends, Asra's is the one that actually scared me and kind of haunted me, because it hits a little too close to home.

These are all just thoughts that I wanted to spill out because I thought it was interesting and I wasn't sure if anyone else has talked about it before.

[novemberpest]

many ways to give in - prologue

summary:  All she wanted to do was take a road trip, drop her car off at her brother's place and then get back home. She really, really didn't need Sebastian to come along for the ride. For some reason he was there anyway.

pairing: Sebastian Stan/Original Female Character

word count: 2.7k

warnings: none

a/n: look, I don’t know what I’m doing. does anyone? Sebastian is just too pretty. that’s the only reason I can give for this.

this will have about 8 or 9 chapters, i haven’t fully decided yet. this will be 18+, expect smut soon-ish. warnings will be updated for each chapter. this isn’t beta read.

please let me know what you think, I need validation.

(you can also read this on AO3)

The apartment was so packed, you could barely make out the walls. People of all ages were mingling and drinking, some of them deep in conversation, others shrieking over the droning music. It was much too warm, despite the unusually cold September weather. New York City was celebrating one of their greatest and it seemed like everyone came to get a piece of her.

 Dante fell deep into the cushions of the couch, barely keeping her glass of champagne from spilling. She enjoyed these kinds of get-togethers — they were far from her busy day-to-day life and there was just something about being a nameless face in a big crowd that appealed to her. Or maybe it was the opportunity to meet interesting people; because, really, if you’d meet them anywhere it was at one of Holly’s parties. As the owner of various high-end bars throughout the city she had connections to all kinds of people, and she’d never been stingy when it came to handing out invites. A true social butterfly — although Dante wouldn’t ever compare herself to her best friend, she still liked taking up that mantle every now and then.

 Holly’s flavor of the day was cute, there was no denying it. Jessica sat on Holly’s lap, a hand knotted into the thick hair at the nape of her neck and giggled like a five-year-old at a children’s birthday party. Which admittedly wasn’t too far from reality, seeing as this was a birthday party — Holly’s 36th to be precise — and despite not looking like she was five, there was also no way Jessica was actually 26. 

 Dante loved her best friend dearly, but her taste in women had always been questionable.

 “So Dante is a boy’s name right? Why do you have a boy’s name?” An obnoxious giggle spilled over Jessica's lips. “You don’t look like a boy.” 

 Dante took a long drink from her champagne flute, wondering how soon the alcohol would set in. She tried to focus on the projector someone had set up on the far wall. It was currently showing some artsy black-and-white film she didn’t recognize — not that she’d recognize many films. “My father was really into racehorses, but too fucking poor to afford one. Naming his children after them was as close as he could get, I suppose”, she explained in a deadpan voice. “My brother’s name is Secretariat.” 

 Holly’s girlfriend stared at her with glassy eyes, and Dante was sure, if her head had been see-through, she would’ve been able to see the new information slowly trickle through the lump of tissue she called her brain. Then, finally, she laughed. “You’re funny!”

 Dante threw Holly a long look. She, however, only gave an apologetic shrug and pressed a kiss to the temple of the woman in her lap. “Bunny, why don’t you go and get us another bottle of wine? You know, the white with the pretty label?”

 Jessica jumped up with all the motivation of a kindergarten child told to go get their drawing pencils. Dante genuinely hoped she would take a while.

 “Look, before you say anything-”

 “You cannot be serious.”

 “You say that, but honestly, she’s not as bad as it seems, you just need to get to know her.”

 “Please, don’t make me get to know her.”

 At this, Holly threw a crumpled up tissue at Dante’s face. “Shut up, we can’t all be celibate loners like you.”

 Dante only snorted into her drink, but didn’t reply. Her eyes wandered through the room, mentally listing all the birthday guests she recognized. When her eyes found a familiar head of tousled brown hair near the front door she paused for a second. 

 “Or whatever it is the kids call it nowadays when they’re in love with someone for years but are too afraid to, you know, just go for it”, Holly added with a knowing glint in her eyes.

 “Shut up.” Dante was really, really not in the mood to talk about him today. Which was funny, because Holly’s birthday party was the only time she ever saw him. A week ago she’d been so sure she’d be able to deal with him but now she just wanted to hide behind the sofa.

 “I’m just saying, as far as I know he doesn’t have a girlfriend right now. And he’ll actually be in the city for a while.”

 “Holly, please, we’ve been over this. Last year was a fucking disaster, and I don’t want to get back to this, like, at all.” Dante swallowed hard. “Besides, I doubt he’d be interested. Sebastian was the one who-”

 She stopped.

 Who did what? What even did he do? One year later, Dante still wasn’t sure why she was actually mad at him.

 “I know”, Holly supplied quietly. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

 Dante nodded, her expression carefully blank. She watched him get pulled into a hug and out of her immediate line of sight. A new group of people had arrived and were slowly pushing their way into the apartment, carrying various bottles of liquor. The music was just bassy and loud enough to effectively drown out most conversations from where they were sitting on the couch, and the champagne bubbling in her stomach actually made her calm down a little. Maybe she’d get through this evening — maybe even more successfully than the other five birthdays she’d celebrated with Holly in this place.

 Her eyes didn’t stray from the front door for long, even when Jessica arrived back with a bottle of red wine clutched in her hands.

 /////

 “So when are you going to Seattle?”

 Dante had emptied the bottle of champagne and was now on her second glass of white wine. Her head was pleasantly fuzzy — that was the only way she could explain to herself why she didn’t run away as soon as Sebastian and Rebecca sat down opposite of her. 

 She shrugged her shoulders, trying to formulate an answer to Rebecca’s question, while blatantly ignoring how his eyes suddenly snapped up from his beer to focus on her. “I’m not sure yet, I’ve got to drop the car off by the end of the month. I was thinking of making it an actual road trip to get away from the city for a little while.” Her eyes flashed to his for only a second but that was enough to shoot fire through her veins. She really hoped her face was already flushed from the alcohol she’d had.

 “You’re going to Seattle?”, shrieked Holly as she reappeared with a noticeably flustered Jessica by her side. She dropped down on the armrest next to Sebastian and slung an arm over his shoulders. “So is my man Sebastian.”

 There was a definite challenge in her eyes. Dante tried her hardest to ignore it. 

 “You are?”, asked Rebecca, the brunette blissfully unaware of the mounting tension between them.

 Sebastian cleared his throat. “Yeah, actually. One of my friends is getting married in two weeks.”

 “In two weeks?” Holly’s grin widened as Dante whispered an inaudible but heartfelt No. “That’s perfect timing! The two of you should just travel together. That’s better for the environment, right?”

 Holly — flying all across the country five times a week, can’t spell recycling to save her life, owning a wardrobe big enough for five families — was on top of her bullshit game tonight. 

 Sebastian’s eyes met her own and Dante could have sworn her heart stopped for a second. She saw him consider the possibility — but fuck her, if she knew what to expect from him. She didn’t understand him on the best of her days.

 “I was planning to go with Ben and Muriel”, he replied in an even tone. Relief and, Dante was afraid to admit, a bit of disappointment flooded her veins as she took a long sip from her wine. “But they had to cancel because Muriel apparently can’t get off work.” 

 She was already choking on her wine before his words fully registered. When her coughing abated, she almost hissed at him. “Why don’t you book a flight?”

 “They’re all fully booked.” His reply came fast, sharp and unexpectedly smug.

 Dante didn’t have an answer to that. She could only stare at him as she tried to understand what is happening. The way his eyes sparkled with mischief and the side of his mouth lifted just so nearly drove her insane. He knew exactly what he was doing.

 “You can’t refuse him, Dee!”, Holly cried from the side in a way that made Dante want to punch her in the face. As if she actually believed his bullshit.

 But Holly was right. 

 She couldn’t refuse him.

 So without another word Dante got up and left the room.

 /////

 It was well past four when Dante decided to call it a night. She hadn’t seen much more of Holly after she’d tried to force Sebastian on her, but Dante wasn’t disappointed. Holly was a social animal through and through, always moving from one person to another to talk as much as she could. Holly was also really fucking drunk and Dante much preferred her best friend sober.

 Dante had spent the night carefully avoiding Sebastian, which wasn’t too hard considering the huge apartment and the sheer mass of friends that Holly had invited. It seemed like he wasn’t looking for her either, which suited her just fine. It was fine.

 Carding through the pile of coats and jackets in Holly’s guest room was a fucking pain. Dante almost moaned with delight, when she finally felt the soft material of her coat under her fingers. She swayed a little in her heels when she pulled it free and turned to leave, trying her hardest not to think of him and how she’d touched him in this room before, or how he looked at her earlier and- 

 The music was still too loud and despite the hour it didn’t seem any less crowded. Dante pushed her way through the front door, almost stumbled when she reached the stairs, but some other guest, a man with a bright grin and even brighter blue hair, quickly grabbed her wrist to steady her. She thanked him with a tight smile, so relieved to finally be on her way home that she didn’t much care about her clumsiness. Carefully she maneuvered past more people hanging out on the stairs, apparently just as content a little further away from the party’s epicenter. Dante could hardly blame them.

 When she finally stepped outside the crisp night air let Dante breathe a little easier. 

 It also made her realize that she was really fucking drunk.

 She took an embarrassingly long time to push her arms through her sleeves — her coat was somehow upside down twice — and searched through her pockets for some cigarettes. It wasn’t a habit she indulged in often, but she felt like she deserved one after getting out of this party alright.

 It had to be her tired mind or her one-sided focus that kept her from noticing the door falling shut behind her a second time. But when she couldn’t find her lighter in either of her pockets, a cigarette already stuck between her lips, a hand appeared in front of her face, a lighter clutched between its fingers. 

 Cold dread washed over her like a tidal wave.

 She raised her eyes from his hand up his shoulders to finally settle on his face. Dante cursed her luck. She’d almost made it.

 “What, are you gonna take it?” The low timbre of his voice cut through the night like a hot knife through butter. When she looked up at him Sebastian was smiling, teasing in that soft way that only he could.

 He clicked his thumb and a little flame popped out of the lighter. 

 Dante looked at it for a second, then plucked the cigarette from between her lips. “I’m not your bitch.”

 She took the lighter from his fingers, trying to ignore their warmth, the feel of them, and lit her cigarette up herself.

 “Never said you were.” The smile was still there, but his gaze seemed a little less playful.

 “That’s what this is though”, she mumbled, blowing out a cloud of smoke, “when men light up their girl’s cigarettes. It makes them their bitch.”

 She met his eyes in a sort of challenge, not even knowing what reaction she was trying to provoke. 

 He huffed out a laugh, looking over her shoulder for a second, before focusing back on her. “You’re not my bitch. Never intended for you to be that.”

 His answer made her deflate. She handed him back his lighter and stuffed one of her hands into her pockets, dropping her gaze to her shoes. “What do you want, Sebastian?”

 “How are you doing? I haven’t really seen you all night”, he asked instead, ignoring her question. 

 Dante let out a long breath, looking down the street — barely seeing anything with how fast her mind was spinning. She’d actually thought she could break their streak, huh?

 “This is the sixth year”, she simply said. When she faced him again, she hoped her expression was as detached as she felt at that moment — numb, even.

 But the way he looked at her wasn’t at all what she expected. His gaze dropped down to her heels — she was almost at eye-level with him now — and carefully travelled up her whole body, mustering her, filing away how the past twelve months had changed her. “You look great.”

 The cold night had nothing on the heat that exploded in her belly. Dante had seen that gaze before, knew its implications with every fiber of her being. But she couldn’t do it, not again, not this time. She’d burnt her fingers on this candle often enough and she’d finally learned to move on.

 She told him as much. “I can’t do this. Not again.”

 They were silent for a while. Dante had finished her cigarette by the time he spoke again.

 “I wasn’t playing around earlier, you know. I’d like it, if you let me tag along to Seattle. Would be great to get a bit of fresh air.” 

 Dante didn’t ask the questions that were rolling around in her mouth. 

 Am I your bit of fresh air? 

 What happens after you’ve gotten your fill? 

 Will I see you next year for Holly’s birthday again?

 She didn’t understand what she saw when she looked at him, like the information reaching her brain was jumbled, not translating correctly. His face seemed rougher and softer at the same time; older, somehow, although it had only been a year. His eyes were always the same though, cutting through her much easier than she felt comfortable with. Sebastian made her feel all hot and all cold, and it was just too much for her right then.

 Dante rubbed a hand over her eyes, squeezed them shut in hopes of drowning out the pounding of her heart and the fuzziness inside her brain. She’d always been so bad at saying no. 

 “Look, you still have my number, right?”, she didn’t give him time to reply, because maybe he didn’t and then she wouldn’t hear from him again and then everything would be fine and good, and perfect, really, “Call me in the next couple days. I’m not deciding on this right now.”

 His expression was boyishly hopeful when she looked at him again. “I’ll do that.” Sebastian reached for her but stopped himself quickly enough. “Thank you.”

 Dante nodded, allowed herself to look at him a little longer — but turned to leave before her thoughts could turn silly again. She was ten steps away when he called her name again.

 “Dante!”, and his smile was so lovely and warm, she almost went back and — “Have a good night.”

 And she gave a little wave, smiled too, hoped it didn’t look as lost as she felt, but —

 There was something hot and tight coiled in her stomach and she really, really wished she had come up with some excuse for tonight. 

 She had learned her lesson with him, right?

 When she arrived home, she decided. For once in her life she would tell someone no, she would take this trip on her own because she’d been looking forward to it for a while now. 

 And Sebastian — she’d moved on. He was a grown man, he would find a way to get to Seattle without her.

 This would work out absolutely fine, she knew.

 Except when she closed her eyes, she saw his face, his smile; felt the ghost of his fingers on hers and — suddenly she wasn’t so sure anymore.

[time-to-write-and-suffer]

Hello! I was wondering if you tell me what's wrong with arcana? From what I've seen it's just a generic mobile game? You don't have to answer if you don't want to of course, and I hope you have a good day!

Well my biggest issue with it is probably uuh how it’s monetized? It’s insanely expensive just to get all the locked scenes in one route. The devs have been complete and total assholes about it when people complained, as well.

The rest of my opinions on it is based on what the game was when I played it, and it’s been what, years? I haven’t checked up on anything and stayed away from the fandom because big yikes.

The game itself is like ... uncomfortably horny? I get that it’s a romance game but the devs seem to take all those typical tumblr thirst posts and make them canon even though it’s really fucking jarring in the story? Plus it’s not exactly stated to be 18+, or at least wasn’t when I first played it, so all the extremely sensual art was kind of off-putting. It felt like fanservice in a really cheap way?

Nadia is heavily fetishized because everyone in the fandom kept asking her to “step on them” and the devs leaned into that and, ya know, she’s a WoC, so that kind of characterization of a domineering yet “““exotic”““ brown woman is uuuh ... mmmbad? She even apparently says shit about wanting to keep the MC as a pet and I seem to recall there being an option for her to literally step on them?

Then we have Asra who’s supposedly nonbinary but we don’t really know that unless you check sources outside of the game, which isn’t really representation? Like, at all? Most other nonbinary characters have been grotesque villains or incidental characters.

And finally there’s Julian? The white guy who everyone stans cuz he’s a white guy and he’s into BDSM. Somehow the weird fetishy/sexualized shit is toned down for this woobiefied white dude. The devs admitted he’s based on Jeff Goldblum but, you guessed it, inexplicably white! He’s (Julian) supposed to be vaguely Jewish but it’s kind of for flavor only and the devs don’t seem keen on confirming it.

Julian and Asra also have a super fetishized relationship like the devs are very clearly into some fujoshi bullshit.

Then there’s Muriel. I never played long enough for his route to appear but he’s a MoC who’s constantly in chains becuase he was a slave at some point? And yeah those chains never seem to come off even when he’s freed because the devs are too lazy to update the sprite? Idk at this point I’m willing to believe it turns them on or something.

Also the writing itself is just bad lmao. So is the game design, locking all actual romance scenes behind massive paywalls and then telling people they don’t “have to” buy them, that those scenes aren’t “essential” and people who can’t afford the game but still want to see the ROMANCE scenes in a ROMANCE game are entitled whiny bitches and those poor poor devs are starving so you HAVE TO pay!!!

I have some issues with this post and the blog in general but it’s got some good points abt the game and its devs if you’re interested in knowing more.

On a personal note: I was really excited for Lucio’s route back in the day because I’m a basic bitch but they really wanged that one too, from what I hear. Why can’t anybody write a good villainmance? I swom to Jon.

[the-arcana-randomness]

The Forbidden Route - Chapter four ~ Death

(MY OC) - (CHAPTER ONE) - (CHAPTER TWO) - (CHAPTER THREE) 

-         Face the ashes? What the hell does ‘face the ashes’ mean?! – Julian was pacing up and down the magic shop.

-         Stop pacing, you’ll knock something over. – Asra said in a bored voice.

-         What does it mean?! – Julian stopped abruptly and took him by the shoulders. Asra leaned over his shoulder to look at Reina who was sitting at the table across from them, lost in thought.

-         Did she say anything else? – He asked.

-         No. – She answered slowly. Asra turned back to Julian.

-         I don’t know what it means. Now please let go of me – he said with an annoyed smile. Julian did just that and ran over to sit next to Reina.

-         Do you have any idea of what she meant by that? Maybe it has something to do with the Arcana story…

Reina had told them everything that happened with Morga. Asra wasn’t too happy about the idea of looking for and possibly trying to save Lucio. He didn’t trust any of it. Julian on the other hand was secretly thrilled by the possibility of an adventure occurring. Reina broke out of her daze and spoke to Asra.

-         What do you think? About the story she told me and the Arcana walking freely between their and our worlds? I thought you said it wasn’t possible for an Arcana, not even a Major Arcana, to do that! And you said it would be dangerous if they could come to our world…

-         That’s what I know. It would be dangerous if they did that now. But as far as the history of the Arcana… and that story Morga told you… I’m not sure. – He frowned.

-         Face the ashes… - Reina repeated quietly and drifted back into her thoughts.

They all sat there quietly, lost in thought. A quick knock on the door broke the silence and Portia walked in.

-         You’re back! – Julian smiled.

-         Did you find out anything?

-         What did Nadia and Muriel say? – Asra added.

-         There’s nothing in the library about the Arcana walking around our world… I’m sorry – she frowned and continued speaking.

-         Nadia said it must have something to do with the past. You know… ashes? She had the association of something old and passed.

-         What about Muriel? – Reina added.

-         He didn’t like talking about the topic. He said ashes reminded him of death and-

-         THAT’S IT! – Reina cut her off. Everyone stared blankly at her.

-         W-w-what did I say? – Portia was puzzled.

-         Ashes… It’s death. ‘Face the ashes’! I need to find out how I died…

-         That’s insane – Asra immediately reacted.

-         Yeah, I agree with Asra on this one. – Julian added.

-         Reina, it’s too dangerous!

-         Why? You did it? You died. You faced death. – Reina tried to rationalize an irrational situation.

-         Yeah, but it’s different! I could heal and you can’t! – Julian insisted.

-         He’s right, Reina. How’s gonna pull you back?! – Portia chimed in.

Reina looked to the side, dissatisfied.

-         There must be a way… - she muttered softly. After a moment Asra spoke with a sigh.

-         Well…

She turned quickly toward him with hope in her eyes.

-         What?!

-         Ah… you could… never mind it’s dumb and dangerous.

-         No, please tell me. I’ll do anything!

-         We love dumb and dangerous – Julian said with a smirk.

-         Uhh… You could… go look for death in his realm. – Asra continued.

-         You’d do that for me? You’d open a gate for me? – Reina smiled.

-         Look, I’m still not on board with the whole “connected to Lucio, have to save him to find myself, Arcana walking around the mortal world” thing, BUT! I know how much it means to you to get your memories back… and I promised to help you.

-         OH ASRA YOU’RE THE BEST! – Reina threw herself around his neck.

-         Seems like we’re going on a journey again – Portia smiled.

-         Weeeeelll… Not exactly. – Asra stepped back from Reina.

-         You’ll… have to go alone.

-         OH, ABSOLUTELY NOT! – Julian stood up knocking over things from the table.

-         Death is really hard to find. They won’t show up if six of us burst through the magic gate into their realm. – Asra explained.

-         WELL-

-         It’s okay! – Reina cut Julian off before he could make a scene.

-         I made up my mind. I’ll do whatever it takes.

 Later that afternoon, they all gathered in the palace garden so Asra and Muriel could open a gate for Reina to go into the magic realm.

-         You know how it goes. Step into the fountain. – Muriel mumbled.

Reina smiled and did as he told her.

-         I still don’t like this! – they could hear Julian yelling from afar, where Portia was holding him back from ruining the spell.

Reina was already standing in the fountain. She took a deep breath and exhaled.

-         Are you ready? – Asra asked quietly.

-         I think I mastered falling through time and space by now. – she smiled.

-         Please, be safe.

And just like that, she had fallen into the dark abyss and found herself falling aimlessly. The space around her became cold. Soon, a soft and wet, snowy, surface greeted her. After finding her balance she looked around, trying to gather her thoughts.

-         Ugh… I hope I won’t have to walk around in this cold for too long… - she said to herself.

-         You won’t – she heard a sharp voice.

-         I’ve been waiting for you, Eden.

She turned around, but saw nothing.

-         Who’s there?!

-         The one you have been looking for, Eden.

-         Death…

-         Correct.

-         W-where are you?

-         I am, all around you.

-         I-I’m here-

-         I know why you are here. Come, child.

An icy path formed in front of her.

-         Follow along, if you know what you desire.

She stood frozen in place for a split second.

-         I want to know… how to face the ashes.

-         Acceptance is key.

-         What do you mean?

-         Only by accepting your faith, will you be able to face the ashes.

-         I can accept it.

-         Can you? Are you sure?

-         I am.

-         Then say it.

A moment of silence ensued.

-         I…

-         You?

-         I…

-         Yes?

-         I died.

As soon as she said it the snowy forest around her melted and her surroundings changed. It was warm. Really warm. Actually, it was hot. Like fire.

-         Where am I?

-         Your memories. The last memories.

After looking around, she recognized the island.

-         Lazaret…

-         Correct.

-         But- How can I have memories of the Lazaret?! How can I remember something from when I was dead?!

-         Were you?

-         What do you mean?! YES! They took me here after I fell sick from the plague! – she started tearing up and her surroundings started shaking and shuttering.

-         If you want the truth, you need to accept it.

-         I DID ACCEPT IT! – the island started shaking harder and parts of it started to turn into a black void.

-         No. You didn’t. Accept it.

-         I DID! I DID! – with every word it got worse.

-         EDEN!

That yell shook her and the island stopped disappearing.

-         Who… is Eden?

-         Who… is Eden?

-         I-I am… Eden…

-         You are Eden.

-         Eden… got sick.

-         Eden got sick.

-         Eden… died from the plague.

-         Did she? Is that how the story goes?

-         She was taken… to the Lazaret.

-         Was she? Is that how the story goes?

-         No… She didn’t die from the plague.

-         No, she didn’t die from the plague.

-         I didn’t die from the plague.

-         You didn’t die from the plague.

-         I was only sick.

-         You were only sick.

-         But they took me to the Lazaret.

-         They took you to the Lazaret.

-         That’s were… they burned me alive.

-         They burned you alive.

-         That’s why I have a memory from the island!

As she said those words she found herself standing in front of thousands of corpses spread out across the floor. The stench was too bad to handle, she almost threw up and quickly covered her mouth and nose, even though it didn’t help too well. She heard noises coming from the left and soon saw people with plague masks coming. They were carrying a body. It was a woman. She had bleach blond, almost white, hair that shined like moonlight on water. She was covered in red spots and her eyes had been bleeding. The sclera of her eyes was red. They threw her onto the pile of bodies and left. Reina walked over to her, slowly. She soon realized she was looking at herself. She was barely breathing, but she was alive still. It was so hard to notice, but not impossible.

-         No one cared about me – she heard her thoughts spoken in Lucio’s voice.

Images of him lying alone, sick and in pain… just like she was, on this pile of bodies, rushed through her head.

-         No one cared about me… not enough to check… to make sure… - it felt like her thoughts were blending in with his.

-         I was only sick they could have saved me! – Lucio’s voice echoed again.

-         Me too… - she whispered.

She saw the masked men coming back. They started taking the bodies and moving them to the gas chamber. She saw herself struggling to make a sound to alert the men. As they picked her up, she saw one last tear drop down her face. In a flash she saw herself being burned alive and pain shot through her whole body. Just like in her dreams, she smelt the burning flesh, felt it melt off her skin… in a moment of panic the image shifted and she was looking at Lucio burning in his room.

-         I WAS BURNED TO DEATH! – his voice came over her like a tsunami.

-         I WAS BURNED TO DEATH! – she screamed and fell down to her knees onto the floor.

Everything went quiet. The cold returned and she felt the wet snow beneath her.

-         Raise your head, Eden.  

She did as Death told her.

-         I-i-is it over?

-         It’s over.

-         That’s how it ended…

-         Can you accept it?

She sat and thought for a moment. The moment felt like eternity.

-         I can.

-         Then you can look for the beginning.

She exhaled from exhaustion and confusion.

-         Remember, the Universe likes balance. With death, there is life.

-         Knowing the end will help me remember the beginning…

-         Goodbye, Eden.

Those words sounded kind and warm. She collapsed and drifted off into the darkness again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Guys, this was an unexpected chapter for me. I wrote it on a whim and I AM SO FREAKING PROUD OF IT. Feel free to share your opinions with me on this post or in my ask. I love hearing back from you. I sencerely hope you are enjoying the series and that you will support it. I have a lot of fun while writing it. I’m sorry that chapters don’t come out mor eoften, but I really try to put in quality into my work and try to connect every little thing. 

I love all of you. 

Chapter five might be up soon, hehe. (We’ll see how exams treat me)

[collective-laugh]

Detective AU - Muriel x MC Chapter 4

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

Taglist:  @a-zoidberg-aesthetic @lesbiancountess @fartkittyonline @yaysam @y-all-dnt-ve @countgoatman-and-drleechboy @julians-chest-hair @vesuviass @caterpiller-tea @zaemoultrie75901 @saltywerewolfrebel @obsessedwiththearcana @thatsaltyseaman @xburningwitch @i-dont-speak-wolf @missrabbitart @softarcana

This chapter was highly inspired by ‘Private Investigations’ by the Dire Straits. @dr-devorak-will-seeyounow introduced me, and it fit the vibe, and I fell in love! I recommend listening while reading!

Also, please let me know if you would like me to put together some sort of playlist/mood music! I’ve done this before on AO3, and it really seems to help!

Thank you to everyone who has made this series such a success, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I have! Please let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Chapter Four: Private Investigations

“You’re looking more miserable than usual, Muriel.” Ludovico leans against the handrail to the back entrance of the Raven, “Which is a feat, considering you always look miserable.”

Muriel lets the cigarette dangle from his lips, still worried about her, hoping that Julian got her back home safely, that he didn’t try anything…

If he found out he so much as laid a hand on her, he’d fucking kill him.

He didn’t really know why he cared so much, and he knew the doctor well enough to know he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything...sober.

“‘m tired.” Muriel claims, and though it’s a half truth, he wished he wasn’t so transparent, “Don’t worry about it.”

Ludovico smirks at him, tossing his cigarette butt out in the rain, “Wouldn’t have anything to do with the little broad you walked in with, huh?”

“No.” He answers a little too quickly, a little too sharply.

He raises his eyebrows, unused to Muriel being anything other than quietly benign, and asks, “Who was she anyway?”

Muriel knew it was none of his business, but he didn’t mind Ludovico, and it didn’t hurt to talk to someone, he guessed. That was always Asra’s advice - “feelings” and “talking” and all that bullshit.

“You wanna, ah,” He waggles his eyebrows, “make whoopee with her?”

Never mind.

Muriel rolls his eyes, smashing his cigarette on the hand rail. Trying to talk to people was shit, and definitely something he didn’t want to make a habit.

“She’s a friend.” He claims, which...isn’t a lie. He’s known her for years now, and knows more about her than he probably ought to, considering just how little they talked. Asra liked to talk about her to no end, sparing no detail about just how much he missed her.

He hopes she’s gotten home safely, that she’s managed to fall asleep so she doesn’t muck up her interview with the Countess later.

The Countess...he could hardly believe that the Countess of Vesuvia herself had resorted to a backwater private detective, no offense to her or Asra. She held no real title outside of being insanely rich and being the former wife of the most prominent crime boss in the city.

Lucio sickened Muriel. The thought of him made him sneer again, and the mere idea that someone could pull the right strings and make the right deals with the right people, and all his problems, all the sick shit he did, could just disappear.

“A friend, huh? Well, the last friend I had like that ended up in my bed, compadre.” Ludovico raises his brow, his sleazy intentions obvious, “You could always give her my number if she doesn’t have someone waitin’ for her at home.”

He was about to say she did, that there was Asra or maybe even Julian waiting for her back at the office, that she wasn’t going to be in that dank little hole all on her own.

Maybe it was selfish. It was definitely selfish to want to be the one waiting for her.

He curses himself, wondering when the hell he started considering her as anything more than an acquaintance he kept at arms’ length. He’s itching for another cigarette, especially as he’s facing the stupid grin on Ludovico’s face. Instead of lighting another, he’s looking at the watch on his wrist. It was a quarter past five, which meant he was free to go.

“Maybe.” He says, trying not to sound so cryptic, but, like Asra said, it was a second nature to him.

He debates stopping back by the office. He’d sent Jules home with her around midnight, and he did want to make sure she was alright. But, something she said to him earlier stuck out like a sore thumb, something about how she could walk herself home.

She was still a grown woman, even if she couldn’t really remember who she was, and he wasn’t certain she’d be all too thrilled about his breathing down her neck.

He does light a cigarette, with Ludovico yelling something crude about her after him, and he shuts his eyes for just a moment, trying to steady himself. It had been a long night, and he was so tired, but he needed to check on her, to make sure she got home alright…

The nagging voice in his head telling him to leave her be wins, despite his instincts screaming at him to do otherwise. He walks the opposite direction, straight back home.

His place is small, modest, and...decidedly not comfortable. The landlord insisted on no pets, but as soon as she saw Muriel, she made an exception, considering she claimed, “ruffians’ll go running soon as they see you, boy!” He couldn’t live anywhere without Inanna, he knows, and was thankful to the lady - Nonna Linka, as she insisted on being called - for letting him stay.

She wasn’t up yet, like anyone with sense, so he’s alone on his trek up the single flight of stairs. He isn’t surprised to find his door unlocked, considering the damn thing had been broken for months now, and all but collapses in bed alongside Inanna.

He dreams of her, of happier times, and wishes things were simpler than he made them out to be.

_

She’s scrambling to get dressed.

It’s embarrassing; the first time in months she’s had a case, and actual, honest to God interview with a client, and she’s running around like a headless chicken trying to gather everything she needed. Asra would have been no better, she knew, waiting until the last minute for everything, but she refuses to think of him now, today, at least until she’s gotten this interview over with.

It was a murder case. Not only a murder case, but a case surrounding the Lucio Morgason. It was more than she ever could have asked for, and she was squandering it because she could quite reach the button on her dress.

Once she’s certain she’s gathered everything - and certain that she’s forgotten at least one thing - she’s out the door, only half remembering to lock it and turn the tacky neon signs off. She only barely catches the train to the Heart District, and knows she must look a mess.

A gorgeous socialite looks at her, all legs and brown hair tied up in some elaborate braid, lips painted a red far too improper for the time of day, and arches a perfectly sculpted brow, as if the very sight of her was amusing.

It was enough to send her blood boiling, and remind her exactly what she was here for.

Nadia’s house - estate, mansion, whatever - is only a seven minute walk and a four minute run from the train station, and she makes it with five minutes to spare before she was considered tardy. It takes two minutes to have her looking presentable again, another three to even reach the door and be led inside by a butler - butler! - one to have her coat taken, and another seven before she even sees Nadia.

She’s the picture of perfection, and puts that socialite from the train to shame, effortlessly beautiful with her long, black hair, and long, golden dress. She greets her gracefully, as she does all things, and ensures that they’re alone, beginning the interview in Lucio’s private library, sitting across from one another.

“Can you tell me about the last time you saw your husband?” She asks, subtly looking over to the tape recorder to ensure that it was getting all of this. Her hand stood ready, just in case Nadia said anything important, and she settles into detective mode, trying to calm herself.

“I…” Nadia wrings her hands, eyeing the white gloves she set aside moments before, as if she was debating whether or not she really wanted to hold them. “I don’t remember my husband. The accident…” She shrugs, looking everywhere but at the detective, “I didn’t know where else to turn, detective. The law is thankful he’s dead, and his ‘friends’ are starting to call for my removal.”

“Removal?” She asks, “Removal from what?”

“I’ve been acting as an interim...boss, I suppose.” She finally meets her eyes, “You must understand, detective. This city isn’t kind to us.”

Truer words had never been spoken, but she only purses her lips before asking, “Is there anyone who might have wanted to hurt your husband? Anyone he had any bad blood with?”

“He was not known for his...subtlety.” Nadia hesitates, as if the gravity of the situation was just catching up to her, “Detective, you must know that I’m willing to pay you handsomely for your services. And that the law is not to know of this.” She says it with such vindication, with such authority, that the detective feels like she has to listen.

“Don’t worry about that.” She replies, thankful her voice didn’t betray her nerves, “This conversation will only ever be heard by you, me, and my associate.”

“Asra?” Nadia inquires, like she was quizzing herself to see if she could remember his name.

The detective nods, but moves on, “Did your husband have any enemies?”

Nadia purses her lips, eyes flicking over to the tape recorder before pulling a small notepad from between the chair and its cushion, sliding it across the table toward Nadia, “I, um...I compiled a short list of people it could possibly be, or people who might have wanted him dead.”

The detective flicks through the pages, though the only writing found inside is on the first and second slips of paper. “Consul Valerius…Vulgora...these are his associates, right?”

Nadia opens her mouth to say something, closes it, and shakes her head, “They are...suspicious at the very least.”

The detective purses her lips.

This was going to be a long interview.

[olivenight17]

Hi! Can I please get a match up for the Arcana? I’m female, 5’3, straight. My hobbies include baking, knife throwing, writing, archery, and studying. I’m an avid reader and I have my own library! I have a darker aesthetic. I lean more towards being an introvert but that can be broken pretty quick in good company. I’m the mom friend of my group. My friends describe me as loyal and witty. Also my profession is in education. Thank you so much!

No problem, I got you anon! And again with the archery and the knife throwing. Dude, that is so insanely cool, I wish I could be as awesome with my hobbies as you. 

But anyways, I have to say, out of all the guys in the Arcana, I see you best with our shy and lovely Muriel.

 - Now originally, I was thinking of pairing you with Julian, but at last second this just totally clicked in my mind

 - For one, you both share that dark aesthetic, and Muriel can absolutely get behind someone who isn’t very flashy and overly bright.

 - Also, the fact you’re both introverts is comforting to him. Our boy really would rather not be around people and the fact that you understand because people also wear you out would be a major comfort to him. But since you can also warm up to others pretty quick he’ll find it equally comforting because he can rely on you for conversation.

 - Not to mention, you’ll definitely have someone to help you train with archery and knife throwing since our boy used to be a fighter.

 - It’s perfect, together you two are just protecc and attacc.

 - And, you two can just be the mom friends together, lest we forget that our boy is also always looking out for his friends and making sure that they’re not doing stupid things that damage them.

 - Also, it totally touches his heart if you ever express that mom concern towards him because like it shows that you care so much for him?? And now he’s wondering why his heart is squeezing in his chest but he doesn’t actually mind it?? What have you done to him, how did he get so in love?

 - 10/10 loves your baking. Anything you bake, he will eat without question because we all know our boy has a sweet tooth and your delicious baking only amplifies that. He can and will melt coming back to the cottage, opening the door and immediately getting a whiff of the deliciousness that you are making.

 - Muriel would probably really love your library and the fact you love reading too. A lot of his life was rough and he never really got to fully enjoy quiet little luxuries like reading. If you’d be okay with it, I can see him always asking you to read for him.

 - Picture with me, it’s a rainy night or something, you two curled up into each other with Inanna, the fire crackling to keep you all warm. You’re stroking Muriel’s hair lightly as your soothing voice breaks the silence, reading the words on the page and the entire cottage radiates warmth and a kind of quiet happiness, a light smile on Muriel’s lips the whole time.

 - Bro, let me tell you, I just got jealous even writing that scene, you’re domestic life with him would be so sweet I just can’t, it’s too good.

 - Plus, he’s going to really appreciate someone who’s loyal. In a world where it feels like everyone turns their back on him, you sticking by his side and knowing you won’t just up and leave him will 100% guarantee his love for you

 - And lastly, once again our boy has dealt with a lot of rough times. As much as I love him, he has a lot of problems to work out and a lot of trauma he still needs to sort through. If you’re pursuing a job in the education field, I can only assume you have at least some patience, which is good. You’re going to need it at first because he’s never had time for love and it’s probably been a while since he’s really felt happy and he might need time to process that. But I guarantee you, if you stay by his side, give him time and help him through everything patiently, he will come around and he will love and protect you like no tomorrow. At that point, you have earned your way into his heart and I don’t think you’ll regret it.

That’s about all I can think of, I hope you enjoyed! (Also, I mean you got my favorite character out of all the Arcana characters I love him so much can you tell)

[flying-elliska]

salut ellie! someone once asked you about your writing and you recommended falling in love with language and finding ways of writing you love. i was wondering, what books and/or writing styles are you in love with? it's just so interesting to know what somehow had an impact on the way you're writing bc i honestly adore your style

wow do you remember that ? that is such a flattering question oh my god. well, i’m still working on it. some of my favorites are (i’m very eclectic lmao) : 

- His Dark Materials (it’s a fantasy book series ‘for kids’ but it’s actually insanely deep and philosophic) is pretty much the first book series that made me fall in love with stories, and made me want to write. I think I found it when I was 10, and it completely shaped me. It’s so ambitious and clever, it never talks down to the reader, brings up those amazing worlds and philosophical concepts and is still accessible to kids. Most of all it is so committed to atmosphere, to making it vivid, to really make you go through what the characters are. I’m thinking of it and I can remember exactly certain passages in an almost sensory way : the witch Serafina Pekkala describing what it feels like to feel the Aurora Borealis on her bare skin as she is flying through the arctic. The polar bear Iorek giving Lyra frozen moss to help bandage his wounds after a battle. The grilled poppy heads that the Jordan College scholars at Oxford eat during a meeting. The little Gallivespians on their dragonflies and the way the sun reflects off their poisonous spurs. That’s how you make a story stick ; that’s how you can put in deep stuff without ever making it boring. I am so excited they’re making a tv series because that shit deserves some recognition. And I mean the whole plot about the importance of stories, free will, the horror of religious fundamentalism....always relevant. Philip Pullman’s stuff is great in general, I love his Sally Lockhart series, which is more adult and adventure focused, and is a great deal of fun. And of course, the sequel to HDM he’s been putting out recently. 

- I spent a lot of my teen years reading either crime novels or historical novels. (When I think of some of the stuff I read when I was 13 I’m like oh my god what were my parents doing lmao some of that was really horrible.) And I think it gave me a good feeling for suspense and setting, and how important tension is. One of my all time faves is Andrea Japp. She is a French writer who does mostly crime, involving complex/monstrous woman characters and a very sensory, poetic approach to language, often involving food, plants and poisons. My favorite by her is the “Season of the Beast”/Agnès de Souarcy chronicles, which is a crime series set in medieval times, with a cool independent lady at its core, crimes in a monastery, and this very gloomy end of times vibe that I love. I also read a lot of Scandi Noir stuff, I love the kind of ...laconic approach to life. And again : vibe. Vibe is so important. And Sherlock Holmes stories. I love the Mary Russell series that take place in that universe and are basically a big Mary Sue self insert guilty pleasure but are just. So much fun. 

- I like poetry a lot - not stuff that is too wordy, but something short, sharp and vivid. i think reading poetry is essential to feeding your inner ‘metaphor culture’. I love Mary Oliver. Rimbaud, too, that I read at 17 and rocked my world. One of my underrated faves is  Hồ Xuân Hương, a Vietnamese poet from the 18th century who was adept at using nature metaphors to hide both erotic stuff, irreverent jokes, and political criticism, and correspond with all the great scholars of her time under a pseudonym. Badass.  Recently I bought ‘Soft Science’ by Franny Choi, which is about cyborgs, having a female body, emotions and politics and it’s absolutely brilliant. 

- I love reading fairy tales, too. Currently reading (i always read a lot of books at once lol) Angela Carter’s Book of Fairy Tales, basically fairy tales for grown ups, collected from folklore all over the world, with an amazing kind of gruesome humor and wisdom. Norse mythology is also so damn funny. That one bit with Thor dressing up as a bride or Loki’s shenanigans...amazing. And I like fantasy, I find it very soothing to read for some reason, my fave has to be Robin Hobb and her Realm of the Elderlings series. And Terry Pratchett, especially the series with Death or the Witches. Just brilliant. Neil Gaiman too. 

- I tend to be very impatient when it comes to literary fiction, I find a lot of it is self-indulgent, dreary. I’m a genre reader through and through, I need to be amazed. I loved ‘the Elegance of the Hedgehog’ by Muriel Barbery though. Some stuff by Amélie Nothomb, Virginie Despentes occasionally (they’re French writers with a very dark, wry approach to life, tho the first is more polished acid and the second very punk rock). And ‘Special Topics in Calamity Physics’ by Marisha Pessl is pretentious as hell but a lot of fun, if you like dark academia. Salman Rushdie has a way with language that is amazing. 

- I read a lot of non-fiction. At the moment : the Cabaret of Plants (about the symbolic/socio historical meaning of plants and how they shaped history) by Richard Mabey and ‘Feminist Fight Club’ by Jessica Bennett. One I absolutely love is ‘the Botany of Desire’ by Michael Pollan in which he traces the history of four plant species (apple, potato, cannabis, tulip) and how they impacted us as much as we impacted them. I was obsessed with plants for most of my life as you can see lol (my mother is a herbalist and I wanted to become a botanist for quite a while.). Also philosophy/anthropology in little bits. I love Tim Ingold. Things about witches. Anything by Rebecca Solnit is incredible. 

- I’ve been reading a lot of YA recently, because it’s fun and quick and keeps me reading, and has a lot of good female characters. Big fave recently : Jane Unlimited by Kristin Cashore. It’s about a young bisexual woman who’s grieving and comes to this weird house full of doors, each of which leads to a different path in life, and we follow her through each choice she can potentially make, each of one becomes a different genre of story : creepy ghost story, spy story, sci-fi, cute romance, etc. It’s so innovative and it’s a story that is also bisexual culture at its core. Also I absolutely love love love love love (etc forever) the Raven Cycle series by Maggie Stiefvater. What she does with language is just so cool, because she stays simple and efficient but uses her metaphors in such a fulgurant, vivid way. Some of her lines are just. bam! genius. #goals. Also Ronan Lynch is probably THE character that helped me the most with my coming out. He’s one of my forever faves.  Of course Harry Potter, lmao, I was of the generation that pretty much grew up with him, the last book came out when I was 17. JK Rowling really should just stop rn. But I learned so much from those, about the importance of making your story feel like home, and having a clear emotional journey. And Harry is such a sarcastic little shit, I love him. And I love a Series of Unfortunate Events too, the darkly funny tone of it, the celebration of knowledge and resilience. 

- I think in terms of the classics (I had to read in school lmao), I do like Victor Hugo a lot even though some of his stuff just doesn’t fucking stop. I also like Balzac and his Comédie Humaine, he’s very observant, mean and funny when it comes to people (even though it’s depressing.) Colette is my grandma’s fave writer and she is a rockstar, I love her (also hella bi culture). Jane Austen is great, I read Pride and Prejudice in one night straight, I was so hooked. Love Jane Eyre too. I read On the Road by Jack Kerouac while hopped up on opioid pain killers and that’s probably the only way to appreciate it, but it did mark me.  

- But to be completely fucking candid, I probably read the most fanfic nowadays still. Esp since I got to college, I need to unwind when I read, and having characters you already know can be so comforting. Now, of course, there’s a lot of fanfic that is just fluff (nothing wrong with that) but I honestly really believe in the literary value of fanfic. Because some of that shit simply just really slaps and is well written. But also as a genre on its own : you just simply don’t get so much emotional nuance, and depth in most other things. Because these are characters we already know and the writers are not afraid to be self-indulgent and plot is secondary, we see shades of things that we never see anywhere else, we see relationships developping in the small things and wow that shit is breathtaking, bro, sometimes. The art of infinite variation on a theme. Even though a lot of fic writers could use a bit of stricter editing, and do stuff a bit too many unnecessary details in here, so does Victor Hugo soooooooo....

lol i could go on forever. i love book soooo much. uni kinda killed my reading appetite, I used to read several books a week when I was in middle school. hope i can get back there (although maybe not as much bc i have a life now lol.) but thinking about everything i have yet to read makes me sooooo happy. I want to get more into sci-fi, English lit classics. Basically I like stuff that’s witty, dark, political, hedonistic, with dry humor, but a warm heart. Stories that celebrate knowledge, curiosity and human weirdness. And that gets to the point. When I get bored by a book, I put it down, because I just don’t have the time. I also hate writers where you can tell that they think they’re better than other people. Misanthropy is boring. Thank you for this question anon I had a blast

[frenchibi]

top 5 books

Hello friend!!!! This is areally really tough question bc I read so many different genres and have SOMANY FAVORITES so I’m going to cheat a little bit… I’ll give you Top3 or 4 (I have no impulse control) for several genres so you’ll get more than 5total but not like.. an inordinate number of books, ok? xD (Who am I kidding I’mgoing off the rails, no apologies)

Fantasy

The Name of the Wind(Kingkiller Chronicles Book 1) and sequel(s) by Patrick Rothfuss. Has beentalked about loads in fantasy circles and I have nothing to add other than“this is the best fantasy book I have ever read, and probably in the top 3 ofbest books I have ever read, period.” The style blew me a way, the characters are fantastic, the system of magic/power in this world is the coolest I have EVER SEEN and… yeah. I’m invested.

Howl’s Moving Castleand sequel(s) by Diana Wynne Jones. Y’all remember the ghibli movie? This isthe book this is based on and it is way, way better than the already fantasticmovie. It is ridiculously charming and witty and lovely and I recommendeveryone read it. You will not regret it. This is my ultimate comfort book, if that makes any sense.

Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett – a hilarious bookabout the apocalypse with absolutely amazing characters and incredible styleand wit. We’re getting a TV series this year and I am beyond stoked. Pleaseread this. It’s… just… yes. British fantasy is SO GOOD.

Honorable mention: Die Stadt der TräumendenBücher by Walter Moers. Theremight be an English translation of this, but honestly I only recommend you readthis if you can read it in its original German – I’m not gatekeeping, it’s justthat so much of its brilliance relies on in-depth knowledge about German culture,history and language and it’s inevitably gonna lose that in translation. It’sone of my absolute favorite books ever and it pains me I can’t share this withmy English-speaking friends :/

YA

The Knife of Never Letting Go (Chaos Walking Book 1) by Patrick Ness. It’shands down the coolest YA book I have ever read and it doesn’t even… feel likeYA at all, more like sci-fi? It could just as easily have gone in the “experimental”category and I don’t wanna give too much away but… the typeface of this book ispart of its charm? Different characters have different fonts and shit? Definitelyread a physical copy of this. Also, the narrator is illiterate so he writeswords by sounding them out – and I know that sounds like that would bedistracting but trust me it’s fantastic??? Please please PLEASE give this atry.

The Watchmaker of Filigree Street by Natasha Pulley. Y’all want a good queerstory that’s not romance-heavy but instead has intricate worldbuilding and really cool magic? Pleaseread this, you will not be disappointed. This is a more “adult” version of YoungAdult Fiction and I absolutely love it.

A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E. Schwab. Is this fantasy, actually? Probably. Does it haveissues? Yes. Is it still a very fun ride with a cool magic/power system? HELLYES. Also the characters are a bit older, which works very well. It’s like YAafter you’ve kind of outgrown YA.

Murder/Mystery

The Strings of Murder (& sequels in the “Frey & McGray” series) by Oscar de Muriel –listen, the main character is a little SHIT and that’s absolutely fine? Themysteries are kind of convoluted but not in a distracting way, it’s just a funseries with fun characters that I really enjoyed!

The Seven Dials Mystery by Agatha Christie (and honestly pretty much everything she has everwritten) – I have nothing to say about Agatha Christie that has not been saidbefore :’D

Phantom bySusan Kay. Now this is kind of also a drama and it’s been a while since I’veread it so idk how well it fits into the murder/mystery category but it’s aboutthe Phantom of the Opera before he became the actual Phantom (or rather, thepath to how he became the Phantom), and I have endless love for this verydramatic and mysterious and misunderstood character so… yeah :D

Collections of Short Stories

Topics About Which I Know Nothing by Patrick Ness. Yes, this is the author of “ChaosWalking” (see above), and this is a collection of a VAST variety of shortstories he has written, all of which are insanely creative and so, so fun??This man has an insane imagination and I love it, instant recommendation toanyone honestly.

Dear Life byAlice Munro – another one that I read a while ago and don’t remember that muchabout, but I remember absolutely loving this book, and that it’s one of thebooks that made me want to read more short story collections :D

The Refugeesby Viet Thanh Nguyen – an interesting bit of perspective, this book centersaround different characters who are Vietnamese or of Vietnamese descent in theUnited States. I loved how eye-opening it was tbh?? I love reading books byauthors from cultures vastly different from my own and this was wonderful.

Poetry/Experimental

Milk and Honey / The Sun and Her Flowers by Rupi Kaur – two collections of very personaland touching modern formless poetry that honestly blew me away. I’m not a bigfan of classic poetry, or poetry in general, but these two books are justincredible.

Good morning, Good night by Lin-Manuel Miranda – a collection of Lin’s “good morning”/ “goodnight” tweets that, idk, give me hope for humanity? Ideal for perusing if youneed cheering up and just an all-round wholesome book to own.

Ella Minnow Pea by Mark Dunn – a “novel without letters” I wouldn’t know where to placeexcept under “experimental” because its premise is basically… an island thatslowly bans more and more letters from everyday use? It’s told in the form ofletters between the characters and it’s just… such a FEAT of writing, the waythe author forces his characters (and himself) to get by with fewer and fewerletters of the alphabet? Fascinating, from a writer’s perspective, and anabsolute recommendation!!!

Sleeping Giants (Book 1 of the Themis Files) by Sylvain Neuvel. This is a sci-fi book,but it’s under “experimental” because, well – it’s told through interviews. Iwas a little confused/put off in the beginning by this style, but the jaw-droppingstory pulled me in and hooked me. It’s a sci-fi EPIC… don’t get too attached toanyone because the apocalypse is coming for them all - and you’ll be at theedge of your goddamn seat. This is a fantastic series.

Drama

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. Honestly, anything by Khaled Hosseini, unsurpassedauthor of dramas that will rip your heart to shreds, and you’ll never be thesame after reading them.

Everything I never told you by Celeste Ng. This is one of those books that will never leave you afteryou’ve read it. It starts with “Lydia is dead. But they don’t know this yet.” –unravelling the mystery and consequences of the death of a Chinese-Americanfamily’s teenage daughter in gut-wrenching detail. A family story that willleave you sobbing on the floor but also filled with such profound hope forhumanity – I don’t even know. This book eviscerated me.

Homegoing byYaa Gyasi – the story of two sisters, one a slave and the other a slave-owner’swife, and their descendants. A family history of choices and consequence thatis… raw and personal and a very, very important book.

Home Fire byKamila Shamsie. The story of a British-Pakistani family – more specifically,the story of three children whose father was a terrorist. I am weak for familystories, and this one is politically charged and relevant and gut-wrenching aswell.

Novels/Fiction

The Hours byMichael Cunningham. The first book I read in a stream-of-consciousness style,and I still really enjoy the plot of it, too: The story follows three women;Virginia Woolf writing a novel in the 1920s, a woman reading this novel in the40s, and a woman basically living the plot of this novel in the 90s. It’sfascinating, really? I highly recommend it.

The History of Bees by Maja Lunde. Another story told in three time periods – a man whoinvents a new type of beehive for beekeepers in the 1800s, a beekeeper whosebees are dying in approximately present day, and a woman 100 years in thefuture who pollinates plants by hand because all the bees have vanished. It’s…fascinating, again, and a really good story. I also feel like it was quiteeducational? I enjoyed it a lot.

Small Great Things by Jodi Picoult. Technically this is a drama too (but shh) – it followsa black delivery nurse who is charged with a serious crime after an incidentinvolving the baby of a White Supremacist couple. It’s an explosive topic butit’s handled with a lot of nuance? Reading this book will frustrate you greatly,but I think it’s… idk, important? It shook me.

Eyrie by TimWinton. I have never seen depression portrayed more accurately than in thisbook. I was highlighting passages on almost every page – also the style ispretty cool? Snappy? Sharp? I’m not good at describing it but… yeah this leftan impact.

Non-Fiction (listen I knowthese are all by youtubers but hear me out)

So Much I want to Tell You by Anna Akana – letters written by Anna to her sister, who committedsuicide when she was 13. It’s raw and personal and important, stories aboutpersonal growth and lessons learned, about grief and regret and moving on. Irecommend this 100%.

Secrets For The Mad by Dodie Clark. A collection of charming stories and anecdotes and songlyrics and doodles – a book that reads like what watching dodie’s music videos andvlogs feels like. Safe and soft and personal. I love this.

Doing It byHannah Witton – a book about sex education that honestly everyone should read.Hannah blazes through taboos like they’re nothing more than hot air – as theyshould be. (Also, watch her videos.)

Bonus

The Alchemist by Paolo Coelho. I don’t even know what category to put this in? It reads like a fable and it is just... so beautiful and enchanting. Please read it, you will not be disappointed. It’s a story of chasing your dreams and self-discovery and it’s... just wonderful.

-

Did I make this entire listas a means of procrastination? Yes. Am I sorry? No.

Listen I have been wantingto blog about books for the LONGEST TIME but I never took the time to because…idk, I am not involved with the book reviewer community on any platform andhonestly I’m intimidated? But I do have a lot of Thoughts so if you’ve read anyof these and want to yell about them with/at me please dm me??? Or send me anask if you want to hear more detailed opinions about any of these from me????

…yeah. Thank you for this question,man. I love books.

Send me “top 5″ of anything and I’ll respond with my favorites!!!

[futuremusicmoguls]

Super Over The Top Farewell

Hey. So I’m about to go overboard with this farewell post, please bear with me. 

First of all, I just want to say that this program was SO much more than what I expected (and I expected a lot). Not only have I learned so much from the wonderful TA’s, guests, and of course Marat and Nicole, but I’ve also learned from the wonderful people who attended this program with me. 

Thank you so much to Ethan, Federico, Devon, and Muriel for all that you guys did to guide me through the MAJOR confusion which is Logic, and helping thecollective. produce an incredible song. Though there were some bumps in the road, you guys helped us learn new ways to fix things, and you also prevented about 1,000,000 of my Logic-induced panic attacks. Much love to all of you! You guys are the best and most inspiring people I’ve ever met. I want to be like all of you one day (except for you, Federico).*

*Just kidding, we all know you’re the best TA.

KJ, when I first met you, I was SUPER intimidated by you because I had listened to your music and it was so good that it had me shook. Then, when I got to know you a bit better, I realized how genuine and kind you are, and your producing skills make me really jealous. I know you’re going to be super successful because you’re so unique and you can do MAGIC with samples. Also, I don’t know if I ever told you this, but I really love Kraftwerk and I think it’s really cool how you show how they influence you in your own music. 

First things first, Jae, you’re an incredible producer. The way you were able to make that beat for your group’s song on your PHONE just baffles me. You’re also such a wonderful and kind person, and getting to know you was so much fun. It sucks that you had to go back home, but I really hope we’ll be able to see each other again because you’re so funny and I’m also definitely gonna need some production tips in the future. 

Ash, you’re such a talented singer and writer. It’s insane that a person with so much talent as you is also so nice, but somehow you’re able to balance both of those things. You’re such a wonderful person to be around and I also admire your drive. I know you’re going to go on to do incredible things, and I’m so exited to see what you’ll put out into the world. 

Val, I love how passionate you are about the business side of music. You are SO smart and I know you’ll be extremely successful down whatever path you choose to take. Also, seeing a girl who wants to be part of that side of the industry is so inspiring, and I’m sure you’ll continue to inspire other girls to follow you. 

Danny, I have to admit that I insta stalked you before FMM started and I don’t think I ever told you this but YOUR VOICE! IS INCREDIBLE! I mean damn, I wish my voice sounded like actual gold but it’s fine, whatever. Also, your writing skills are so amazing. You’re an extremely talented person and I can’t wait to hear more of the stuff you put out. Also, I hope you continue to post more videos of you singing on instagram. I have those post notifications ON. 

Camille, first of all I stan you, you’re so talented and also gorgeous. Your voice is literally so beautiful, and overall you’re such a lovely person. I genuinely enjoyed every conversation we had, no matter how small it was. I’m so excited to see where you go in the future!

Dylan, first of all you’re hilarious, and even though it was really crowded I loved whenever you’d come into the edit suites because it was always a great time. Other than that, you’re a really talented bassist and all around great person. I really enjoyed the time I spent with you! Can’t wait to see you again (at Gianna’s beach house party?)

Brandon, to be honest, when I first saw your instagram I kind of thought you were gonna be like, stuck up or something. But you’re actually such a kind and funny person, and you’re also so good at literally everything you do it’s astonishing. I always show my friends your soundcloud and brag about how I know you, because your music is incredible. I’m so excited to see what else you put out, and I also hope you get around to putting stuff on soundcloud too so I can put you on my playlists!

Jess, my fellow Westchester girl. Where do I even start? You’re such a sweet person and I’m so lucky that this program brought us together. I love how we bonded instantly over our shared tallness, love of iced coffee (and ICED only) and how we both live in Westchester. You’re so funny, kind, and also extremely talented. Your voice blows me away, and I know you’re gonna accomplish amazing things. (Also, we need to hang out at some place that isn’t GILDAS, lol).

Ava, I honestly can’t thank you enough for all of your help on my group’s song. I can say without doubt that it would NOT have been even close to finished if you hadn’t stepped in and helped us with it. Your producing skills are incredible, and you’re also so cool. I know you’re only a year older than me, but I want to be just like you when I grow up :) 

Tayahna, when I first met you I was so intimidated by you because not only are you *literally* a model, but you’re also so talented and the music that I heard from you had me shook to the core. I admire your confidence and how despite how talented you are, you’re such a nice person. Getting to know you was honestly one of my favorite experiences at FMM. 

Keisha, nbd but I love you! You’re one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met, and I feel so lucky that I got to become such good friends with you during FMM. Other than that, you are 1) actually gorgeous and 2) an amazing singer. I honestly can’t wait to hear more of the stuff you put out, because every song I’ve heard you cover is low-key way better than the original. I can’t wait to see you again!

Alex, just stop. Actually just stop because I love you so much that I can’t even put it into words. You’re such an amazing singer and songwriter, and I’m so lucky that I got put in a group with you. You’re part of my family now so sorry, there’s no escaping my undying love for you. 

Che (AKA FRESHMAN), first of all big thank you for babysitting my headphones for me and not eating them. Also, getting to know you at FMM was such a great time. You’re such a genuinely kind and funny person and I really hope I can spend more time with you in the future because you brightened up my Saturdays. You’re an amazing rapper, writer, and producer, and your stand-up comedy skills don’t go unnoticed. Please don’t actually physically blow up this summer, I’ll miss you! 

Sawyer, wow. I’m still blown away by your talent. It basically radiates off of you. I’m so glad that I got to meet you through FMM because you make amazing music and are also so good at actually EVERYTHING, is there anything you can’t do? Other than that, you’re so nice and funny and I really look forward to sending you literally everything I write so you can tell me how to make it better, so sorry in advance for how much I’m gonna annoy you. I feel really proud to say that I even know you. You’re already doing amazing things, and I can’t wait to see what else you accomplish. 

KB, don’t tell anyone else but you’re actually my favorite FMM’er EVER. Seeing you every Saturday made my life 1000x better and the talent which you possess amazes me. You’re such a funny, sweet person and I can’t wait to see where you take your copious amounts of talent. 

Gianna, I love you so much. I honestly think I could write a book about how much joy you bring into my life. You’re an incredibly talented, funny, sweet person and I feel truly blessed that you were in my group. Also, thank you for literally reviving CLOSURE, you’re the GOAT. 

Nicole, thank you so much for everything you taught me about production. It’s so inspiring to see a woman with your level of expertise in production, and you really assured me that I can do it too! 

Marat, where do I even start. Being able to learn from you every Saturday was so incredible. I will never forget the amazing experience which you have given me and the other FMM’ers. Thank you so much for making the music industry not as scary as I thought it was. This program was one of the best experiences ever and I cannot even describe in words the impact it has made on my life. Being able to meet these wonderful people and learn so much was such a gift. 

Thank you so much, FMM. This might be farewell for now, but I know it’s only the beginning for all of us. 

[peacefulrestvalley]

Cygnus, an Arcana fic

For @trans1ents and @thearcanasecretsanta

Confession: I totally thought the deadline for this was Christmas and thought I was like the worst secret Santa for not finishing it, but it turns out that I am just the worst secret Santa because I totally let @trans1ents know ahead of time to apologize for being late :(

Anyway, so this is a Muriel fic featuring @trans1ents‘s apprentice Kayane!  It was kind of strange to write someone else’s character, but I had fun with it.  I can only hope that I did him justice.

Thanks!

When the stars shone so bright under the night sky, Kayane couldn't help but take a walk.

Asra was gone.  Faust was...somewhere?  And nowhere was the inclination to deal with the Countess and her goose chase.

Alright, it wasn't as if he didn't want to help the Countess, and it wasn't as if he didn't want to know what was really going on with them all, but by the gods if it wasn't a beautiful night with the stars gleaming as they were.  He was determined to not place a single care in front of them, lest he hurt their feelings for displaying his stupidly mortal concerns.  

...Actually, no, that wasn't the case; but he did just want to clear his mind for one night.

It wasn't anywhere as unholy as the Rowdy Raven, but Kayane made his way into an acceptable tavern in time.

There was laughter, raucous cheering in one corner, and some snogging in another.  A small smirk placed itself on Kayane's lips, for he felt more at home here than at the Countess's estate.  He went up to the bar and ordered something to take his mind off things, but honestly what he ordered barely registered to him the moment it lifted off his tongue.

A star had fallen.

The part of Kayane wanting to get drunk as all get-out laughed at this notion while the more romantic parts of him came to life and began to sing, as much as his hopeful royal drunkenness wanted them to stop for his own sanity.

He was draped in a dark hood, and Kayane heard the sound of chains scrape against the counter, ever-so-slightly.  Dark brows above dark eyes above a dark expression.  Gods only knew what brought him here.

Ex-fighter, he knew that much.

Almost immediately Kayane crossed several stools to meet him.  He wasn't sure why, and if questioned he might even deny taking that much effort in to meet this tall and dark stranger.  But what he couldn't deny was the fascination, the pull.  Maybe he had just gotten drunk without even trying.

For a brief second - honestly, just a second - the stranger oh-so-slightly raised an eyebrow at Kayane, but in time he would learn to see that as just a simple acknowledgement.  It wasn't until he was halfway through his nebulous drink that he heard something from Mr. Tall, Dark & Handsome:

"Hn."

That was it. There it was.  That was the grand introduction Kayane had hoped for, all wrapped up and served to him on one of the Countess's silver platters.  And the stars that dropped their own Mr. Tall, Dark & Handsome wept...somewhere.

Kayane narrowed his eyes.

"Something wrong, big guy?"

For a moment, Mr. Tall, Dark & Handsome looked surprised.  But it was for a brief moment and then he wordlessly shook his head with nothing to come of it.

Another drink followed, falling just as quickly into the grand uncertainty of life and hopeful inebriation as the previous one had.  There were a few questions on Kayane's mind, and perhaps if it was anyone else, they all would have been shot at will and scattered before anyone could have had an opportunity to react.  But for this stranger, he was willing to exercise some restraint, particularly because he had never even formally heard Mr. Tall, Dark & Handsome speak.

Two could play at the game, one part of him said, while the other died, and yet still a third, smarter part insisted that he was making too much of one moment and to just talk to him already dammit because sometimes people are shy.

However, all parts of him panicked just the same when the handsome rogue in question did the unthinkable:

He paid his tab and left the bar.

There were a few moments where Kayane simply sat at his stool, moments of inertia that could have been turned into moments of action and triumph.  

It was just as well since you had never even actually connected with the man, Kayane's more reasonable part tried to plead as his body moved on his own and it downed the remainder of the second drink.  

Lots of people go to the bar for a drink or two, and not everyone has the chance to sit beside a fallen star like you did, and - hey where are you going, reason continued as Kayane proceeded to go.

Not everyone you like is obligated to even acknowledge you exist, it went on as Kayane did, too, onto the dark streets.  Fortunately he didn't have to go far since what he was looking for was rather close.

Good, that stupid, rational part of him could shut up then.

"Hey, sorry," Kayane began as Mr. Tall, Dark & Handsome stopped in his tracks at the sound.  "I know this is a little weird, and I'm not trying to, like, stalk you or do anything creepy or whatever. You just left before I could, uh, say, um..."

Mid-sentence he realized just how insane he sounded.  Maybe that part of him that was jabbering before was right; not everyone he liked was obligated to interact with him, and yet there he was, flagging down a mysterious man in the dark and not even having the decency to make up for it by sounding cool.

"...It's a nice night."

In the midst of his own internal chaos, Kayane almost didn't even catch what sounded as bits of gravel thrown into the wind and hitting all the right parts of the stone path in a strange, almost melodic rhythm.

"Y-yeah."

A simple head gesture, a quick tilt to a certain direction, was all it took for Kayane to go following Mr. Tall, Dark & Handsome as he started down the road until the two of them were beside one another in equal stride.

"I'm Kayane Talis," Kayane Talis said, because that's who he was.

For a second, he almost mistook the clinking sound of chains as a legitimate response and was in the process of internally laughing at himself when he heard what was strangely one of the most beautiful sound of that moment in time.  More gravel hitting the stone before them.

"Muriel."

And that's who he was.

"Muriel," Kayane repeated to confirm it on his own.

He almost expected him to repeat Muriel but in honesty that was asking for too much.  Instead Muriel simply inclined his head and kept his eyes on the road before them.

In retrospect and a moment that Kayane would later smile to himself about, that was the smart, almost protective decision because he himself didn't know where the hell they were at nor did he really give a damn as long as they were together.  A part of him wanted Muriel's eyes to be on him and nothing else, but the rational part of him knew that it was too soon to expect a virtual stranger to actually care about him.  But all parts would later realize that keeping an eye on their surroundings, to be vigilant for them, was Muriel's own way of caring.

Kayane was thankful they had left the lights of the tavern and were heading down one of the Countess's sparsely lit roads because his cheeks were so goddamn red.  It was a crush and they had only started talking, he rationalized as he practically begged himself to stop taking things so seriously too soon.  After all, they had literally just finished with formal instructions and already he was picturing cute breakfast moments and silly, flirtatious banter.

When Muriel gave a questioning sound, it was too late for Kayane to realize that the internal sigh he gave himself out of his own perceived ridiculousness was actually an external one.

"Y'know," he began out of embarrassment and being overwhelmed by his own emotions, "I am so sorry.  You were just minding your business, wanting to have a drink to yourself, and here I come just spoiling all that.  You can't even leave in peace because here I am again, out here following you like some kind of creep.  I am so, so sorry."

Not a sound nor gesture came from Muriel in response to that and that just made the bottom of Kayane's stomach drop even further.

"I'm sorry.  I should go.  I'm bothering you."

It took everything in him to actually tear away from the man beside him whom he had internally built a life together with and then had set it all ablaze a moment later.

That was when he felt something touch his shoulder - a soft yet powerful touch that induced an excitable shiver within him.  Wholly unexpected yet entirely needed.

"I didn't say that," Muriel simply said with his hand still on Kayane's shoulder, keeping him in place.  

Although, to be entirely fair, Muriel didn't say much of anything so how could anyone know his true intentions or his true thoughts and feelings?  After a chance night at a bar, how could anyone know what would take a lifetime with him to know?  What one person could give about themselves easily even by accident would take significant time filled with hard work for him to give the same.

Those were things Muriel knew about himself that Kayane now knew as well through the halting power of their contact - though, he didn't know if it was by one of them or even just wishful thinking.

That was fine, he smiled to himself as he suddenly linked his arm with Muriel's.  He could - and would - talk enough for the both of them.

"Hey, I wanna take you somewhere."

He threw in a smile that Asra would sometimes call "award-winning" to accompany his directive and gesture, and Muriel simply nodded in response.  Kayane wasn't sure what it was, or why he felt that, but somehow the big guy seemed more relaxed when he hadn't even realized he seemed tense in the first place.

While walking he chatted one-sidedly with his companion, telling him all sorts of things but not stupidly so.  He avoided all talk of the Countess's task or Asra or basically everything he had come to the tavern before to get away from, but it was nice to tell someone all the simple little things about himself and have someone actually listen.

The spot he took Muriel to wasn't particularly fantastic on its own, but it was up a few flights of the city's steps enough that the surrounding buildings didn't overtake the sky.  Only then did Kayane unlink his arm from Muriel to take a seat on a grassy area and then gestured for him to do the same.

With delight he watched as Muriel situated himself with the utmost care, paying enough attention that he didn't accidentally crush a small flower growing low to the ground.  Kayane smiled because if it hadn't been for his companion he wouldn't have even realized it was there.

That was the kind of person he was beginning to see for himself, this quiet and gentle yet powerful seeming giant.  Kayane could feel himself actually falling in love, and he didn't hate it.

"This is the best spot to watch the stars," he said. "Well, I mean, it's not the best.  I think the best would be on a grassy knoll far away from the city, but that would take too long.  And besides, that would be so creepy, being led by a stranger at night to some secluded spot far away from anything or anyone..."

"Another time."

Kayane could just feel the tips of his long ears burn as his stomach churned delightfully.  Another time, as in that Muriel actually wasn't going to go running away and conveniently dodge him every second he got if they were to 'accidentally' meet again...probably.

"...Totally."  He swallowed and continued, "Anyway, do you know you know where Deneb is?  Part of the Northern Cross?"

Muriel shook his head.

"Okay.  Look," Kayane said as he swallowed again and pointed to a bright star in the sky.  "It's like...right around-- yeah, me just beside you pointing to a random spot in the sky and being like it's right there isn't going to help."

Predictably, Muriel didn't really give a response to that although if Kayane would assign an emotion to the silence, it would be apologetic.

"...Um, here."  

Rising to his knees, and careful to avoid the flower, he positioned himself slightly behind Muriel's back, leaning forward so that his face was at the side of his while bringing a hand to steady himself on the other shoulder.  If Muriel was startled or uncomfortable with the close proximity, he didn't show it.  In fact, the only sign Kayane could see that he wasn't a statue was that his eyes flickered over to him instead of being trained on the night sky.

Once more he pointed to that bright star, this time with his finger close enough in Muriel's line of vision that he could consider it his own.

"Do you see it now?"

He did.

"That's Deneb."

Kayane was a goddamn genius.  Really, he would later pretend that it was all calculated, that he absolutely meant to do it from the start in order to get close to him, but the truth was that it was happy opportunity disguised as coincidence that dropped itself in his lap.  There he was, all but hugging Muriel outright, and Muriel wasn't shrugging him off.

"It connects to the these other stars," he explained as he wiggled his finger a bit to cover the vague, inspired shape of a bird in flight, "and they come together to form the constellation Cygnus, the Swan.  ...Do you see how the shape they make resembles a swan?"

When Muriel shook his head no, the fabric of his hood tickled against Kayane's cheek, and it was just one thing of many that made him laugh.

"Yeah, me neither!  But that's just what it's called.  Here, here's another..."

They continued like that well into the night, exploring the seemingly endless night sky in the comfort of trusted company, as if it wasn't the first night they had or would have together.

[lenucciagreco]

the loved ones

an anon sent me a prompt a hot minute ago to the effect of “Richard is a total know-it-all, but especially about Jared.” this is... sort of about that but mostly tries to answer some other questions i had about their relationship, Jared’s life offscreen and outside of the Pied Piper bubble, and also how “normal people” would feasibly treat the both of them.

that said, this is VERY MUCH lighthearted wish fulfillment, so, pretty average stuff from me LOL.

words: 3,096

content: Richard is bi and bad at communicating, a lot of Jared headcanons that probably contradict the writing, some OCs i was forced to make up to properly tell this story that also definitely contradict the writing.

He has elderly friends. He actually has elderly friends. This is fine.

Richard tries not to visibly claw at the armrest of the tiny wing chair in the corner, a thousand afghans and granny-square blankets draped over its back. He wouldn’t usually picture a house like this as belonging to people named Muriel and Eloise, but as he always has to remind himself, this is Northern California, and the tiny, dour church ladies he’s used to are few and far between.

“So, what was it you said you did again, dear?” this unsettlingly kind woman with the oxygen tank asks him, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of herbal tea. “I know Donald said something about—”   

“Richard and I met through work, Muriel,” Jared cuts in, his expression growing more tense. Maybe that’s just in his imagination. “Actually—well, I’ll embarrass him if I say this, but he inadvertently rescued me from the bad situation I was in before. At Hooli.” 

Muriel pauses, and then her face suddenly lights up: “Of course, of course. He’s told us all about you.”   

The other woman (her wife, who he’d first introduced to Muriel years ago, as Jared explained in the car) steps away from the cutting board she’s been zeroed in on for the last fifteen minutes, and leans against the kitchen island. She’s younger than Muriel—maybe in her late sixties—and hair is cropped and dyed black, almost auburn in parts, the sleeves of her denim shirt rolled to her elbows.   

“This is that Richard?” she asks, regarding him with a stiff smile—as if to show him she isn’t hostile, but not much more. His stomach turns. “Donald, you two haven't—”

Muriel reaches for her walker and stands up, unwavering in her cheeriness. “Eloise, won’t you help me pick out something from the cellar? And we should really start getting the table ready. Can you two finish with the salad?" 

“Of course,” Jared says. His face is calm again, but he can tell he’s close to yanking him from the seat by the arm, already preemptively apologizing for bringing him here. Richard stands up and smiles at him in a way he hopes is reassuring, and goes to the kitchen. 

His last date before all of this, what feels like ages before he willingly got in a car headed to a ranch in Sonoma, was also his all-time worst. It was an actual get-your-number-and-go-to-dinner type date. It was with some girl named Hannah; a freelance web designer who used to work at Hooli, too, although they’d never met before. It had been going well on the whole, until his mind jumped to the worst possible thing mid-conversation, something stupid like right, gastronomy just means the study of food and culture—my friend Jared actually knows a lot about— 

“You mean Jared Dunn? That guy always kind of gave me the creeps.” 

“What?” Richard picked at his dessert, trying to look casual. “I mean—why’s that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, “something about his demeanor always just bothered me.”   

“That’s funny,” he said, then caught himself. "Or—well, it’s not that funny, but I understand. He really is a great guy if you get to know him. It’s just that people don’t always, um…respond well to him?” 

“He seemed nice”—she repeated this word as an afterthought, free of any actual meaning—“just not very good at picking up on social cues.”   

“God, you just described everyone I know.” It was meant to be a joke, but he was the only one who laughed. He sloshed the wine in his glass, a tiny purple stain dotting his thumb. 

“And the oversharing,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Some people are okay with it, but for me it was just—it’s too much.”   

“It’s not for the attention, though,” he says, his tongue starting to feel heavy from the wine. “Not like everybody else. It’s like—he thinks he needs to give a disclaimer to everyone he meets, 'hey, I’m kinda fucked up and have a lot of trauma but I’m fine!’ Don’t get me wrong, some of the stuff he tells me, just offhand, is insane. But he’s a literal genius. Like Jesus Christ, he’s a walking encyclopedia on naval history, 19th century American poets, the DSM—” 

“You know a lot about Jared,” Hannah said, quietly.   

“Um.” Richard put his glass down. "Yeah, I guess I do.”   

He saw the waiter come down with two more drinks and, mercifully, the check.

“I’m so sorry,” Jared starts, the second they’re alone. “I didn’t tell you everything when we were in the car.”   

“It’s okay,” he says, “just—what did you tell her about me that made her hate me?”   

“Eloise doesn’t hate you. She’s just a little protective of me. Really, she’s like this with everyone I bring over.” 

“Jared.” He leans both elbows onto the counter and looks him in the eye. “What does that mean.”   

“It means,” Jared says, absurdly calm, “that she's like this with everyone I bring over, Richard. We do this dinner every year, and she always has something to say about my guests. It has nothing to do with us.”   

Richard notices the tips of his ears are red. He decides not to prod anymore, even if the answer just makes him feel worse.   

Instead he steals a sliver of cucumber off the cutting board and chews it. He feels the urge to make himself useful in the kitchen, but Jared’s stonewalling him by standing at the counter, shoulders squared, slicing the tomatoes at a worrying pace. He can’t help but think he looks just like Eloise minutes ago, right down to the posture. 

When he sees a person he cares about in pain, he mirrors them. Richard knows that. He also knows she can’t be his birth mother, because she died when he was twelve. When he told him this, at four a.m. lying face to face in a bunk bed, Richard reached out his hand and pulled it to his chest.   

This is not good. It’s fine. They’re going to be fine.   

A huge, bony cat butts his head against Richard’s ankle and slides past him. He’s counted three. It yowls up at the counter, probably well aware of the biggest pushover in the room. But Jared doesn’t fold. 

“It’s not for you, Bartleby.” He scoops it up in his arms, a heap of gray fur and flailing paws, and attempts to hand it off to Richard. “Can you take him outside? Please?”   

He can’t really say no, so he gets a good grip on the cat and heads out the screen door. When he gets outside, Eloise is standing on the patio, uncorking a bottle of wine.   

“He doesn’t let everybody hold him like that,” she says, nonplussed. As she says it, Bartleby slips out of Richard’s arms. (What an awful name.) “He’s a little anxious.”   

“Me too,” Richard says. It’s a joke, but not really.   

“So how did you meet Donald?” she asks, cutting through whatever fifteen layers of bullshit he was operating on. “Why do you call him that other name?”   

“Um.” He stops, realizing he’s never had to even really confront the issue. “When I met him, that’s what he told me his name was, and it just stuck—I mean, he’s never asked me to switch. Are you saying that I should?”  

“I don’t have any opinion on what you should do,” she says, and he physically feels himself get knocked down a peg or two realizing this is far from the first time she’s had this conversation. "I just expect you to treat Donald well. He has a knack for getting manipulated by other people who don’t actually value him.”  

“I’m not one of those people,” he says. “He’s really helped me. Through a lot of awful shit. And—he’s told me, you know, things about himself—”   

“He tells everyone his things,” Eloise says. “Anyone who’s willing to listen.”   

“Like—the real things.”   

“Like what?”   

Jared steps out onto the patio, salad bowl in his hands. “Everything’s ready. Where should I put it?” 

The first thing he did after the worst date of his life, after climbing apologetically out of a Lyft, was make a beeline to the garage. Jared was there, and awake—he almost always was at that hour, back then. He was under the cheap duvet, on his laptop, leaning against some milk crates.

“How did it go?”   

“Jared,” he said, staggering to the air mattress and kneeling at the edge. “I fucked up.”   

“Oh.” He shut his laptop and sat up straight, watching him crawl closer. Richard was sure he was trying not to touch him, not to physically engage at all, expertly restrained. Always so respectful of his boundaries, always Richard’s needs before his own. “What happened? Did something go wrong with Hannah?”   

(In hindsight, he seemed a little too eager to ask.)   

“I—just realized I need to stop fucking kidding myself,” he blurted, feeling blindly for Jared’s knee. Was he crying already? It felt like it, on his face. He was pretty loaded. “I need to stop. Stop pretending.”   

“Pretending what?”   

“That—you’re not the person. The person I want to be with.” He could barely understand himself, he was sobbing so loudly, probably sounding ridiculous. “But it’s so stupid and impossible that I have to lie to myself about it.”

“Richard,” he said, hands suddenly on his shoulders, dead calm. “You’re very drunk.”   

He saw right through him. Something about his placid denial, the insistence that nothing was wrong, enraged him in that moment. “I see you looking at me all the time. I notice everything, dude, so don’t just fucking pretend you don’t want this—”   

“Richard.”   

He tried to lean in, writing checks he can’t cash. “Please. Just tell me it’s possible.”   

In some far-off fantasy world Jared could have just dropped his scruples and they could have fucked right there, on that awful air mattress, with his head two inches from the concrete. But instead he just grabbed both his wrists and held onto them, forcing Richard to go still.   

“I do. I do want it.” He looked him square in the eye. “But I don’t really think it should happen like this. Do you?”   

It wasn't a rhetorical question. Richard pulled his hands away—he wasn’t holding on that hard—and considered his options. Then he shook his head.   

“Okay. Is there anything else you want to tell me?”   

“No.”   

He cleared his throat and put his head down, on the corner of the pillow. Because there’s some fucking good left in the world, Jared slipped his arm around his shoulder and pressed his lips to a spot beneath his eyebrow, and neither of them had to say a word. 

More people start to trickle in, some of them names Richard actually recognizes—Muriel’s daughter and tiny blonde grandchild, aunts and distant friends that seem oddly excited once they find out who he is. Jared does a lot of the talking for him, anyway, and lays it on thick (probably to apologize without ever having to say anything.) Richard’s a Stanford-educated engineer; Richard’s got a brilliant mind; you two would find a lot to talk about. But before he even scratches the surface with anybody he gets whisked off to someone else.  

Which is just as well, really. He’s never good with strangers, and as usual, Jared took steps to circumvent it, steps Richard wouldn’t even think to take. Maybe he is like every other schlubby boyfriend he’s brought over.   

Muriel rings some kind of New Age dinner bell, loud and clangy, and everyone gathers around the outdoor table. It’s beautiful, actually—the backyard stretches out for what looks like forever, a wooded path not far down the hill. Once Richard finds his seat, he glances up and suddenly sees Jared pouring him a glass of wine. 

Something about the whole image is just weird. The only thing that comes out of his mouth is: “Oh. It’s white?”   

“Red wouldn’t go with this meal,” Jared says, “technically. You’re at a table of oenophiles that would say so.” 

“Right.” He already feels a little disoriented.   

“Not a big wine drinker?” Muriel asks.   

“I like it, just—” 

“That’s quite alright. It’s meant to be enjoyed with food,” she says. “This is from our vinery. We only serve what we make to friends.”   

“And Trader Joe’s,” Eloise says.   

“And Trader Joe’s. But that’s just to keep the lights on. Should we have a toast?”

The wine goes down light and easy, perfect for an amateur like himself. Eloise, spearing a few pieces of vegan gnocchi, addresses him from the other side of the table: “What were we talking about before, Richard?” 

“Whatever it was,” Jared pipes in, “I’m sure the rest of the table wouldn’t find it very interesting.”   

Of course, everyone but the three of them are caught up in other conversations. Richard looks around for some other kind of lifeline that he knows does not exist.   

“It was about you, Donald,” she says, perfectly genteel. “Just—that you two had gotten to know each other quite well in the last few months.”   

Jared knits his brow, his voice pitching up the way it does when he’s upset: “We’ve known each other about four years.”   

“I know,” Eloise says, “but this development is recent?”   

He turns to Richard, but it seems like he’s already made up his mind by the time he looks at him. “About six weeks. I don’t know why it’s so important.”   

Even she backs off after that, but Richard can tell it’s with great restraint. “Forgive me. I was just curious. Especially after the conversations we’ve had before.”  

“Eloise, it feels—really unnecessary to bring that up,” Jared says (easily the harshest thing Richard's heard him say to someone he cares for.) “Of course I forgive you. But I—” 

“No, you’re right, this is total bullshit.” Richard pushes his wine glass away from him, a little stunned at the words coming out of him—but he feels stone-cold sober and fed up with watching this same scene play out. “Jared’s a grown adult. He can make his own decisions about who he wants to date without screening them for you.”   

“Richard,” he says, his hand suddenly clasping the top of his arm, “it’s not that. She’s talking about something I said before—” 

“It doesn’t matter what you said, like, upwards of a year ago. I was probably a massive dick to you back then.” He feels eyes on him, but keeps going anyway: “She’s just using your words against you. It’s manipulative as shit and I’m not playing along with it.”   

Suddenly the table is quiet. Muriel asks, slowly: “Is everything alright, dear?”   

Richard shakes his head, pushing his chair out and standing up. “No. Sorry, I should—I should go. Sorry, everyone.” 

He hears Jared say his name, but it’s too late. He makes a break for it into the woods.

Somehow he managed to steal the rest of the wine from the ice bucket, too. He’s already made enough of a prick of himself that he figures it can’t hurt. So there he is, wandering on someone else’s property with a bottle of Sauvignon blanc. At the bottom of the hill is a tiny river, snaking a few miles down—he finds a swing chair hanging from a tree and falls back into it, just now noticing he’s half in the bag.   

Jared’s not far behind, of course. He secretly hopes he’ll turn around and prolong this conversation for as much time as possible, but the sound of his voice, his footsteps get closer until it’s unavoidable.   

Then he’s standing behind him, hand on the back of the chair, steadying the rope. “Are you okay?” 

“Why are you asking if I’m okay? I just fucked up twenty people’s evening when I was supposed to impress them.” 

“I don’t care about impressing anyone,” Jared says. “Eloise—helped me a lot. I owed it to her, for you two to meet. That’s all.”   

“Well, she met me,” Richard says, mustering a completely inappropriate laugh. “What did you say about me before that was so bad?”   

He sits down beside him. “Just that I—talk a lot and I wasn’t sure if you listened, always. But I know that’s not true now—”   

“Of course it’s not true.” Richard turns to him. “Jared, I remember everything you tell me. Like how you’re a Pisces and prefer regular Cheerios to fucking honey nut. Like—how in the tenth grade you had to memorize 'O Captain, My Captain' and it stuck with you forever. You used to daydream about sailing away from wherever you were but you were in landlocked Pennsylvania so you didn’t even see a boat in a harbor until you were nineteen and took a bus to the Jersey shore, but you kept saying you were going to the shore because that was the only thing you heard people call it, you didn’t even know it was in New Jersey until you got there. You love children. And animals. And anyone who listens to you which means a ton of shitty people take advantage of you, or they treat you like shit because they don’t get it. 

"Your favorite book is Moby Dick because you like stories about the ocean and—I don’t know, you probably relate to the whole thing of chasing something aimlessly and having it haunt you every day of your life until it kills you, but I don’t want it to kill you, Jared, I just want you to be well-adjusted and fucking happy—”   

He stops him. “I am happy. I’m happier than ever with you. Always.” 

“I’m sorry,” Richard says. “I shouldn’t have said all that. I made a prick of myself in front of people you really wanted me to meet. And you worked so hard to try to make them like me—I fucked up whatever chance we had.”

“I don’t care what they think.” Jared reaches for his hand, looking strangely giddy about all of this. “I mean—I do, but I care more about you. About us.” 

“There’s an ‘us’ now.” He doesn’t say it out of skepticism—it’s something closer to relief. 

“Yeah.” There’s a pause as he slips his arm around his waist, a troubled expression when Richard doesn’t answer, even as he leans heavily into his side. “You do know that. Right?” 

“I know.” He stares out in front of him, at the dappled sunlight and soft grass, in this place he knows he’s no longer welcome in, and squeezes Jared’s hand. “Is it okay if we go home?” 

“Of course,” Jared says. They do not move. 

[ecotone99]

[MS] Her Rose Garden

I might start turning these little story starters into actual stories. I'm going to just give a sample of one, and you can tell me what your thoughts are on it, deal? Thanks! First up!

19. Rose Garden

A soft humming tune filled the air, as a petite figure busied herself with watering the large garden of red, golden yellow, and pink roses. As she hummed, and the water can went spraying all over the petals and leaves, she thought to herself, 'What a wonderful morning for gardening.' A soft giggle followed, as her strawberry blonde hair bounced from the joy in her step, as she pranced over to refill the can.

"Quite a wonderful garden you have there, Cherilee!" a male's voice rang out, catching her off guard, making her nearly drop the can of water.

"Oh, um, good morning to you too, Mr. Finner! I see you're admiring my garden," she replied, running over to the gate to open it up for the 30 year old man.

He wore a dark blue and black suit proudly, with a spectacle covering one eye, and a top hat sitting upon his mop of brown hair, combed nicely. With a smile, he looked upon the roses of many colors, and walked in with his hands behind his back.

"My, my, you sure have been busy, haven't you Miss Cherilee," he commented, taking out his pocket watch to check the time briefly, before putting it away.

"Why yes, Mr. Finner! Getting up every morning to make sure my beautiful children get their water is what I live for!" Cherilee spoke proudly, giggling as she pranced back over to a bush she hadn't attended to yet.

The man watched her in silence, keeping his hands behind his back. He wondered how such a petite young lady managed a garden like this all by herself. Walking over to watch her water the red roses, he raised an eyebrow with curiosity.

"So, how did you manage to work on this garden of yours? It's pretty exquisite to be one of such talent."

Cheriliee gives a dark smirk for a moment's glance from the Professor, before giggling lightly. "Oh Mr, Finner, you flatter me. I've been working on this garden for years. It's one of my greatest achievements! To keep the garden fed, and the leaves trimmed, it's one of my greatest pleasures."

"Oh really? Well, that sounds absolutely splendid. Oh my, look at the time! I must be off. History won't teach itself. Have a wonderful day, Miss Cherilee."

The man quickly left her humble garden, only to hear a whisper in his ear speak softly to him.

"Help us!"

Hearing the sudden sound of a whisper calling for help, the Professor turned his gaze back towards Cherilee, who was busy pulling up some weeds for the moment.

"Did you say something, dear?" he asks, scratching his head lightly.

"Pardon? I don't believe I said anything, but I hope your day goes well!"

"Yes...uh...you too..."

Once the gate was closed behind him, it locked automatically, making Cherilee stand slowly with the weed cutter held tightly in her grip. Giving off a dark aura of anger, she turned to the rest of her garden with a wicked grin, "Who spoke up? Who?"

The garden stayed silent, making her eyebrow twitch with impatient, "Speak up now! Who was it?!"

A small rose bud peeked out of the corner of one of the bushes, showing off a pair of bright blue eyes full of fear. "I-it was me..." it spoke in a soft tone.

Cherilee walked over slowly to them, and fell to her knees, before taking the bud gently within her fingers. She could feel the rose bud shivering, rustling up their leaves and wanting to hide their face with its petals.

"So, what made you think you can go around asking strangers for help, hm? Did I give you permission to speak? DO you want the others to pay for your disobedience?? Must I always be so patient with you??"

Without waiting for a word, she used the weed cutter to snip the rose from its stem, making a dribble of blood pour from the bush. The rest of the garden whimpered and gasped as Cherilee mercilessly crushed the rose bud.

Standing to her feet, she growls, "Let this be a lesson to you, lot! I will only keep you here for as long as I want, and you will never defy me, or you'll all end up with the same fate! I gave you a home, I keep you well fed, and this is the thanks I get?!" She threw the rose on the ground, and stomped it to pieces. "You will stay silent, unless I give the order to speak, understand!?"

The garden fell silent, making her chuckle, as she went back to her pretty cheerful tone, "Good. That's all I wanted to hear. Silence."

~~

A pile of papers were placed inside of another filing cabinet, as Bennett did his best not to complain. The work pile up was ridiculous, his coworkers were off on other duties, and he still hadn't been able to capture the one causing so much trouble for the city.

There have been many cases of children going missing in the nearby areas, as of late, and still the only clues the man has found, were pictures with info of whom was missing. The parents were becoming devastated, and some even began thinking of moving to a different state or another city. None would think that their children was dead, since it has been a few years that these cases have come about.

Just where is this captor, and why children under the ages from 5 to 9? Sighing deeply, Bennett plopped down into his seat, running a hand over his tired face. Working late night hours again, just for this; it was slowly driving him nuts. Who knows what those children were up against? What was the captor trying to say? Opening up a cabinet underneath his desk, he took out the files of the recent missing children of this year.

Mattie Williams. Age 8.

Kasey Jockins. Age 9.

Peter Alleck. Age 6.

Raven Yorkshire. Age 9.

And Thomas Dilsworth. Age 7.

5 children in a span of a few months. How did it get so bad, and what was this captor’s motive? For all Bennett knew, this captor was interested in gingers and dirty blondes, but why? It was already creepy enough, but to be specific, the girls were the red heads, and the boys were dirty blondes. Why?

Just why?

Groaning in frustration, he bends over the folders and paperwork. “Ugh.”

A hand suddenly landed on his shoulder, making him nearly jump out of his chair, only to see one of his friends grinning down at him.

“Hey Ben, what’s going on tonight? Sorry, didn’t mean to startle ya.”

Groaning again, Ben turned back to his friend with a light smirk, “Very funny, Kyle. I’m just going over some more paperwork.”

“Business is still booming?”

“For the most part, trying to solve this case without any leads is getting me nowhere.”

The tall man gives a chuckle, placing a platter of food next to the detective, while taking a seat next to him.

“What are you doing here anyway, Kyle? I thought you were banned from coming to see me,” Ben joked, taking the can of soda from his friend, who gives a soft laugh.

“I just wanted to check up on my buddy. Can’t have you staying overnight again, can I? You do have a bad habit of letting your work get to you. Can I see what you got working for ya?”

Sliding the files over to him, Kyle studied the children’s profiles, humming lightly in thought. “Hm. Seems like a pattern to me. Why do you think they are interested in children, anyways?”

After taking a swig from his drink, Ben gave a shrug, placing it onto the table, “Who knows? I’m not getting anywhere like this.”

“Oh, that reminds me, I brought you this too,” Kyle mentions, placing a file down onto the table.

It was a brand new kind of envelope that was black, with white letters written on it: Classified. “What’s this?” Ben asks, opening the file carefully, so as not to rip anything. Usually files like these meant whatever profile was behind it, the person was seriously dangerous, or just mentally insane.

“You know that mansion up on Blue Hill, Ave?” Kyle asks curiously, watching as Ben looks over the file.

“The one with that huge rose garden you mean?” Ben frowns in thought, while Kyle nodded.

“Yes. Lovely garden, isn’t it?”

Ben nods, now concentrating on the file. There was a girl with long dark brown hair on it, with a wide smile that looked a little too forced to be real. She had pale skin, and light green eyes, and was wearing a prisoner’s outfit. Her name was Muriel Josephine Kinley, Age 24.

Her reasons for imprisonment were blotted out, and her history wasn’t there either. Ben couldn’t get much from this, if anything at all.

“Just thought I’d give you another file to add to your suspects list,” Kyle mentions, sipping his soda, before crushing it and throwing it far into the trash bin.

“Have you ever seen this girl? Why would she be a suspect? Isn’t she in prison?”

“Nope. Word got out that she’s escaped, and is on the run, apparently. But, it’s been a few years, and no one’s seen her since. Think she could be out there wrecking havoc?”

“Could be. I’ll keep an eye out for the time being. I think I’ll call it quits for tonight, my head hurts.”

Ben placed all of the files back into his drawer, locking it with the key, before planting it into his pocket. Getting up and grabbing his jacket, he turns back to see Kyle cleaning their food and placing it into a bag.

“Are you crashing at my place again, Ky?” he asks, while he looked over the office, before turning out the lights.

“Yes man, if you don’t mind. My roommate was having friends over, and I wanted to get some air anyways. While you get some rest, I might watch some footage we had gotten that may confirm who the perp was that robbed the city’s museum again.”

“Don’t they usually have the Eagle Agency working in that department?” Ben led them both to his car, quickly getting in and turning the engine on.

“You’re forgetting that I had to go undercover as the museum manager, while he was on vacation to keep a lookout. Sadly, the perp got away with the find, and the police are on the case. The Agency though I heard, has hired another to get on the case. Black Phoenix is the name.”

“Black Phoenix, huh? If heros are taking lightly to such petty names, I’d say that one is unique, but you know, who cares nowadays?”

“Haha, you got that right.”

“What was stolen again?”

“The Egyptian Sphere. Says it can grant anyone any wish, but it’s limited. Some say others who have sought after it, and used its powers, ended up dead in the long run.”

Ben chuckles, “Guess they couldn’t handle the rules, huh?”

To be continued...

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