#dude is about to smash with hammer but nope!

[raisedbydirew0lves]

welp i realized they made eye contact with mason during that scene as if it wasn't scary enough already :D

[jeeperso]

D&D Quotes Without Context

Ravenloft, Hazlan Arc, part 5

"It’s cool. They stole it." "And you know this how?" "Magic." “90% of Ravenloft deaths are mysterious vanishings.” "Why does everything come out covered in glitter and … is that …" "Lube. I’ve got a few theories." "Please don’t share them."

OOC: This is a plan that ends with Strahd having fewer brides, his castle is in flames, and he’s lost his cape.

OOC: Our team consists of a horny pyromancer, a gnome who can fillete you in five seconds, an HP lovecraft protagonist with actual magic backing them up, a literal slab of iron with a face, and a guy with a "I went to the eternal city of Ryleth and all I got was PTSD and this lousy T shirt". Gorbash smashing his shield into their face: "Have! You! Considered! Therapy!" OOC: Good news is you guys will no longer be the most conspicuous guys at the masquerade now. Jonni: Challenge accepted! "Nyx, the bounty on stealing his fake mustache is still on."

"Lets see, gonna make Jonni Deathlock six, gonna make the cleric a Huecuva, the Dragonborn a skeleton warrior, make a wight with the gnome.... I don't think I can make an undead with the big guy but pretty sure Hazlik wants him personally." Gorebash is offended. "I beat the shit out of the witch-slaying sentient hammer that was trying to gank you and all I merit is a Skeleton Warrior! That hurts Nima. I expect CR3 or better or I'm taking my corpse business elsewhere." "I'm not powerful enough to make you a death knight, Sorry." Jonni: "Wow, Hazzy, you need better minions. We should kill her." OOC: Point is, if you can make liches or Death knights, Hazlik's already killed you and written his name over your grad thesis.

Jonni: "NOPE! No fey queens. Not after last time! Well… maybe just a few times…"

“Hey, I need to ask for some magic stuff, but also I need an outfit for a royal dinner. Something that says, I’m an ostentatious adventurer visitor to your lands, but also that I plan to spending this dinner in the cloak room with one or more of the serving maids.”

As it is most gauche to appear before a darklord with a warpick sized hole in the middle of one's chest.

"... This place has made green things seem ominous to me."

"A giant beanstalk, this is the most unique wizard's tower I've ever seen."

On that note you also notice behind the Beanstalk is what seems like a huge lagoon of bubbling green ooze. Edmund leans to the side to get a good look... Several zombies are working tossing corpses into it, as the corpses hit the ooze they dissolve into it. Edmund leans back to get a less good look before knocking.

"Since he hopefully can't hear us, Your boss is kind of a self absorbed egomaniac... if he didn't have so power I'm sure someone would have thrown a brick at him by now." “I know where we can find bricks.” "Supply of Bricks is not the issue, Jonni." “Everyone says that until the revolt starts. Pays to be prepared.”

“That explains it. You’re about the research, your boss is about applied power of dickery.”

“I hung around a magic school once to let the grad students study me for their thesis.”

“Oh, good fascist wizards. Why can’t we kill him again?” "Phenomenal cosmic power."

"Oh crud, the ooze someone merged some of the corpses together and brought them back to life as a new being. At least that is my wild guess as to what happened here." Willow blinks. "Um, this is unprecedented." “Nah, but usually you need lighting and some grave robbing.”

"I mean I grew a toe out of corn." Willow says, "Its not that far fetched."

"You think, therefore you are. Freedom is your right." “Weird, that magic red self driving wagon I met once said something similar.”

"The Elder Brain will deal with you eventually. You will never escape it." “Clan chief told me that the day I stole his mammoth after he found me with his daughter. Pretty sure that loser is still freezing his tiny grimbas off on fuck-stick mountain.”

at supper, to Mama: "I am forbidden from your kitchen for good reason, but I may require your assistance with my culinary dark arts for the feast." Mama gives you a dirty look. "Who are you trying to kill?" "Not kill, on purpose anyway, just a severe enough food coma."

"Yes, I already reminded the others we can't fake our deaths again." "Yeah that only works so often," Sergei says. Edmund lost a perfectly good watch that day.

OOC: THE FUCKING LENG FOLK HAVE UFOS! MOTHER-FUCKERS!

"Plus we owe you for sending the Sullivans our way. That was a well paying job." "Yeah, except I got those fleas on me and hallucinated I was a pawn broker sign. That was a weird afternoon."

As side effect of the dark cookery, Marshal's armor is well-oiled throughout the day, though Mama insists he be kept away from Jonni or pregnant women.

...you can see ominous black clouds of smoke coming from the wagon all that day. The rats and roaches circling it with anticipation. With the occasional black speech of "Double it." Mama comes rushing out after a bit, holding a rag on her face. "That.. is very ominous." “We’re gonna have to cast this back into the fires of its creation eventually.” "Marshal may serve the gods, but when he cooks he's channeling Asmodeus himself." OOC: The meal must be cast into the deep fryers of Mount McDoom. Only there can it be unmade.

Marshal's player: *rolls natural 20 on cooking check* GM: Congradulations, it's edible. Marshal: "It...is done..." "By all that is holy..." The chocolate is so dark, light cannot escape it’s surface. 50 pounds of butter per square inch. OOC: It occurs to me this is basically a more fucked up retelling of Snow White.

“Gor, going with plan C cup. You know what I like if he starts thinking he’s cute by offering choices of rewards.” "Try not to do anything that requires a rescue."

Marshall is clearly trying to spontaneously multiclass into psionics the way he's trying to vaporize Hazlik with his stare.

"I will draw." Hazlik smiles, places the cards before you, then steps the hell back. Jonni pat Edmunds shoulder and shakes his hand. “It’s been okay knowing you. You were one of the least dickish dudes I ever met. And part of a select few I didn’t want to punch in the balls.”

“You will. Briefly. That’s a promise from Jonathana, She Who Makes Torches of Men. Daughter of Eloise Wolf Slayer, outcast of the Mammoth Tribe, and consort of the 37th Princess of Fuck Mountain.“

OOC: Nima is someone we can actively reach to strangle to death. Dark lords are a bit out of choking range.

OOC: But.... and this is important: Will Edmund ever get pants? OOC: Strahd will consider it.

OOC: Like this is the dark powers going "He looked at me crossways, PUT HIM N THE HOLE."

OOC: If Ravenloft is a jail/prison, this is the equivalent of getting thrown in solitary confinement. OOC: Without pants.

[dissidiawol]

rating every single conceivable possible jose ship in the world

because everyone wants to see this happen

in the format of name: seen it? thoughts?

survivors

doctor: havent seen it. nope. she would be ableist to him.

gardener: havent seen it. she is a lesbian.

lawyer: seen it. i fucking hate you.

thief: if i have seen it ive wiped it from my memory. kill yourself.

magician: seen it. KILL yourself.

kurt: seen it. well definitely not for me but i dont hate it. its uncomfy for me but like as long as theyre having fun :)

merc: seen it. literally wtf are you TALKING about dude.

coord: havent seen it. jose helps coord figure out sexuality and gender identity but nothing more rly.

mechanic: havent seen it. i do not think they would work. also kevin would beat his ass.

forward: havent seen it. forward is so nice and awesome if it did ever happen i couldnt even be mad i trust him.

minds eye: havent seen it. i just cant. well. see it happening.

priestess: havent seen it. i dont think theyd like eachother shes kinda offputting.

perfumer: seen it maybe. hell no dude hell fuckin no are you crazy get the fuck outta here.

dancer: havent seen it. this chara is kinda nothing to me. not his type.

kevin: of course ive fucking seen it. i think its funny when kevin hates joses guts. im not a kevjose believer but im an ally because i have to be in order to survive.

seer: kinda seen it? jose would be like confused but interested in seers whole Thing. unfortunately seer is a little shrimp boy and is more like a household cat than a potential romantic partner

soppy: no. no.

prospector: i have seen this. its ok..

enchantress: hopefully havent seen it. they havent had a single positive interaction in their lives. she has good reason to dislike him and even put a curse on him.

murro: i have now seen this. hes too old for jose there i said it. hes joses uncle friend. they have a familial bond whilst not being related.

acrobat: seen it. i will smash acrobats fingers with a hammer. i will open the floor beneath acrobats feet and make him cling onto a rope for dear life while crocodiles snap at him from below. i will tie acrobat to the roof of my car and drive into a series of signs and lampposts.

jose: weirdly enough i havent seen this one. he hates himself it wouldnt work.

demi: seen it. SLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY.

postman: havent seen it. not his type.

gk: havent seen it. nah. 

luca: unfortunately seen it. sorry folks extremely extremely no way in hell ever thats his lil italian SERBIAN brother. there is no non-brotherly dynamic here.

entomologist: NO. NO.

painter: have seen way too much of it. FUCK you edgar VALDEN. i hope edjose shippers DIEEE.

batter: somehow seen it. um.... no. i dont think its very tasteful.

toymer: havent seen it. idk man naw.

emil: havent seen it. emil deserves a nice slow recovery and a loving healthy relationship and while jose would be there to support him he would not be romantic with him this is what i believe.

lucky guy: havent seen it. joses too old for him. there isnt like a huge age difference just like in spirit and soul. joses a grown man with a job and lucky guy uses deviantart.

ada: havent seen it. he would be like oh shes pretty hot and then hed hear more stuff about her and be like hmmm no nevermind im ok actually.

orpheus: havent seen it. so... hes a survivor now i guess..... um. i dont know man. maybe i could respect it. i like orpheus. i think it could be ok. EDIT: usually when i change my mind i just backspace but i think its funny to keep it like this anyway. anyway i condone this. i might kin orpheus a little bit im not sure but i can get behind this this is fine by me. shame it literally doesnt exist though. EDIT 2: its my goal to make this as long as possible. yeah i kin him now whatever dude. im an orphjose ally shoutout to my oomf id put it at maybe third best jose ship.

little girl: not even entertaining this one

weeping clown: yes... ew....... i hate this dude. mr ableist hatecrime shalt not be allowed anywhere near my man. hes so pathetic in the worst way.

professor luchino: no. i dont really care to think about this rationally i just think he flops super hard.

hunters

qi xi: no. shes a lesbian and she has a girlfriend.

composer: no. why did they make a character whose just like several others hes so useless id rather he didnt exist this isnt even about shipping anymore just Why are you here bro.

alice: no. ud be insane to think id side with anything that isnt alimelly at this point.

leo: havent seen it. nuh uh bro.

smiley face: havent seen it. dude are you fucking kidding me? thats the JOKER.

jack the ripper: havent seen it. jack i will blast you with my flamethrower.

gk deluxe: havent seen it. as much as i love gk i just cant say i see it.

soul weaver: havent seen it. theyre good friends but thats it.

michiko: havent seen it. no way dude.

feaster: unfortunately have seen it. step the fuck back mother fucker im armed. so nasty.

wu chang: seen it. although they didnt do anything Wrong i think hed hold a grudge against them anyway for the whole everything and also i hate it.

joseph: HEHEHEHEHEHEHE. HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE.

mad eyes: no. i will rip all your skin off and glue it back on inside out

dream witch: havent seen it. now hang on. thinks deeply. she might be his type. the fans dont want to hear this but..... the milf appreciator has logged on.

robbie: thats his nephew. thats his little boy.

luchino: havent seen it. lets just say.... heh........ No.

mary: havent seen it. [sweeps your ankles]

bonbon: this is a robot. this is monokuma.

disciple: havent seen it. yeah no. folks if were all being honest here nuh uh.

antonio: havent seen it. jose hates music next question.

galatea: havent seen it. i couldnt say yes to this even if i wanted to.

undead: SHUT. UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP.

funny wheel men: havent seen it. no they hate everyone.

grace: sadly seen it. thats his daughter dude no fucking way.

waxist: no. no.

nightmare: havent seen it. EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.

clerk: no. what?

misc

hermit: no. jose would HATE HIM.

night watch: no. he may be an adult but hes still teenaged to me he would not go out with a 19 year old.

joses old crewmates: i know hes fucked at least one of his crewmates before. i know it i know it i know it.

ME: omg so true best otp together forever

[akemiozawa]

Free Writing

Okay, yea, during the games announcement and during my college class time, I had my creative writing go wild, and these are some writing pieces I’ve thought up of. Enjoy!

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Writings no. 1

I glanced around the room, until I stop at my desk. There sat a yellow and red toned apple, the size of a magic 8 ball.

“Hello, what’re you doing here?” I ask aloud. Walking over, I pick it up. The skin felt cool and smooth again at my fingertips.

Hang on. Who put this here? I didn’t even grab one of these when I went to the dining hall. Did Mia put this here?

“Hey Mia!”

“Yea, Charlie?”

“Did you leave this apple in my room?” I turned just as she walked in.

Her teal eyes darted to the object in my hand. Shaking her head, all that spilled from the ratel-hybrid’s lips was, “Nope. Wasn’t me.”

The way her ears tilted to and fro, and eyebrows curled in a confused manner confirmed it.

“Then what the hell-?”

“Beats me, Dude.” She shrugs.

Meanwhile, watching through his ornate mirror, Vil Schoenheit watched the exchange between the two girls. He clenched his hands into fists as he sees Charlie stuff the apple into her bag.

“Let’s go walk around the courtyard till class starts.” The other girl, Mia, requested.

“Sure. Let’s go.” Charlie smiled, and grabbing her bag, fled from the room with the ratel. The mirror warped back to how it was as the scene faded.

“Blast it all! She didn’t bite into it like I hoped!” Vil muttered under his breath. Pacing around his chambers, he let his thoughts fly. “Well, it’s only a matter of time. Besides, it’s in her possession now....and soon will she be, too.” A sly smirk swept onto his lips.

Gaining ahold of his hand mirror, the glass’ reflection wavered and Vil’s face changed into that of Charlotte’s. The latter was smiling and laughing at something Mia said.

“Oh my dearest Charlotte. Very soon, your beauty will be mine for the taking. Enjoy your freedom, little dove. Before you know it, there’ll be no escape from my gilded birdcage of beauty!”

Writings no. 2

The doors clicked open, and I barely managed to slip through the space it made. I quickly sprinted for the staircase as fast as I could with the sandaled feet. My heart kept hammering in my chest. Was it the adrenaline? Maybe fear? Or pure excitement? I couldn’t tell over these black starting to creep in to the corners of my vision. 

“I have to hurry! He’s gonna catch me!” I panicked. The skirt of my gown fluttered against my legs as I hiked up the skirts in order to run faster. If Vil saw me now, he’d be screaming like a banshee at my actions. But he wasn’t here, and I was in a fight to save myself and the others.

I heard a whisper behind me, and out from a cloud of mist, Grim was floating at the same pace I ran.

“You do realize you’re acting like a victim in a horror movie now, right?”

“Not now, Grim!” I spat.

“Hey, I’m just pointing out facts.” He shrugs nonchalantly.

“I gotta find an empty room to hide in until I can get a clear plan going!” I mutter, ignoring him for the time being.

Nothing in the hall so far. But I’ve still got to keep my hopes up.

Writings no. 3

Pushing open the door lightly, I bolt into the empty room. My jaw drops at the sight.

Furniture overturned, smashed windows and shredded curtains, ruined decor littered the entire room. Walls were scratched up and broken. Shit, don’t tell me that’s blood on the floor!

Covering my mouth, I survey the damage that is now the Heartslabyul dorm. If this was what Nerine, Morganna and Xander had done to this place, I’d hate to see how the others turned out.

Crap! The guys! What happened?! I don’t know what I’d do if they died. Just the thought of seeing their lifeless bodies brought tears to my eyes.

“Charlie!”

Wait...that voice... please tell me-

“Where are you?!”

ACE!!!

I smiled when I saw him run through the door with Trey, Deuce, Cater and Riddle in tow. They’re all here! And safe!

“Guys...” I smile, fumbling forward, the tears finally coming down.

Ace was the first to catch me in a hug. I felt small drops on my shoulder, and fierce mutterings of ‘you’re alive!’.

I felt more weight when the others decided to join in on the hug, and Riddle placed a warm hand on my shoulder for reassurance.

Writings No. 4

The entire place was pitch black. Forcing down the ball of spit in my throat with force, I try to keep calm as I walk forward.

A chilled breath runs along my neck. I yelp and swing back around. No one. Brushing a lock of hair behind my ear, I turn back forward.

My footfalls creek with the old floorboards the more I move. So much for trying to be stealthy. 

A Shriek resounds.

Okay scratch that, I can’t stay calm! 

I tried to scream, until two gentle but firm hands grab me by the forearms, dragging me into the shadows.

One hand clamps down on my mouth, to stop my voice from slipping.

“Charlie, it’s me!”

Oh my fucking God. HIM???

My eyes dart to the side, and all I see are Lilia’s blood irises.

“mmmmm?! (Lilia?!)” I shriek, despite my voice being muffled with his hand. 

“Well who else? Mal-Mal? Uh, no! You’re lucky that I saved you before something else did!” He retorted. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

“Mmmm mmm thmmm mmmmrm?!” (Where are the others?!)

“Don’t worry, they’re safe. Mal sent me to find you before trouble sparked up!”

Little too late for that, Lil. I’ve yet to find Vil, Leona, and Riddle! Now that Morganna has the vice heads locked up, who knows where she might be on the hunt for us. 

He seemed to send my distress, thankfully, and releases me from his hold. 

I shook my head rapidly, “I’m fine!” Fine?! Really?! Why’d I choose that word over something else?!

“Now Charlotte, you know better than to lie to me.” He teased. Damnit.

With nothing else, I spilled the beans.

“Well, that’s certainly not good.”

No shit, Sherlock!

“We have to warn Malleus and the other leads. I’ve managed to locate only half of them.”

“I’ll go with you to find the others before Morganna does.” Without resisting, I agree and we run for it.

(Note, these next three include songs. Links are listed underneath. Two are actual songs I know by heart, the last is inspiration from a certain musical)

Writings no. 5

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=oavr9Bj94Vk

Sighing, I clasp the golden pendant around my neck. The cool metal warms up in my palm. The melody of the music box gently tings out the tune. Without missing a beat I lull out,

A gentle breeze from Hush-a-bye Mountain

Softly blows o’er Lullaby Bay.

It fills the sails of boats that are waiting

Waiting to sail your worries away.

The faint memory of my mother singing that same song to me as a child was embrazened within my mind. Her touch...her voice...Her smile...her warmth.....

It isn’t far to Hush-a-bye Mountain and

Your boat waits down by the key.

The winds of night so softly are sighing

Soon they will fly your troubles to sea.

Epel snuggles into me, grasping what warmth I’m emanating from my body. His tears have long since dried and he closes his eyes.

So close your eyes on Hush-a-bye Mountain

Wave goodbye to cares of the day!

Enclosing my own arms around his fragile body, the melody turns into an orchestra of strings and winds. I felt their haunting song play and resound through the hollow air, filling the dead space with a symphony of soothing tones. I held him close to my heart, letting the song lull his soul to sleep.

And watch your boat from Hush-a-bye Mountain

Sail far away from Lullaby Bay.

His breathing grows slow and soon, soundlessly, he succumbs you sleep.

Writings no. 6

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=6D8tPJEyqbI

Walking down the dim halls, my thoughts grew bleak. And yet they keep going back to the same symbol that was embedded in the key, the same key which led to the mirror and matched my necklace.

Am I more connected to this world and what’s led on? Is the headmaster hiding something for me that I shouldn’t know of? Whatever the reason, I’ve yet to know... and I’ll find out for myself if no one’s going to help me!

Without thinking, I start to sing an old tune. A song about a poor wayfaring stranger going back home through so much turmoil and danger, but only for a lifetime of happiness back home.

The stranger and I are the same. We’re trying to find our way back, and will do everything to do so, even suffering ordeals, physically and mentally alike. But there’s a dividing line. Between my world and the one I’m trapped in.

I pass by a mirror and stop. I see my reflection: my dark locks were down, a Dutch braid framed my forehead keeping any stray hairs out of sight. My skin glowed under the candle light, giving off a warm beige halo of health. Pink lips in a soft pout. Yellow-brown eyes vibrantly shined through the golden-yellow glow of fire, and tiny freckles lined the apples of my cheeks.

“Charlotte...” I froze. That’s the same voice that called to me when I first found the mirror.

I started to shake, goosebumps prickled my arms and I felt a shiver go down my spine as I back away slowly. No...not again...anything but that!

I was a good few feet away when I bolted down the hall, never once turning back, the feeling of eyes on my figure continued to prolong.

Writings no. 7

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=PkB7hfC8aYM

Weeping silently, I let the tears fall into my hands. 

Riddle’s words kept stabbing at my heart like daggers. I could only recall his cold stare before he left with a swish of his cape. 

Despite Trey and the others trying to comfort me, all I wanted was to be alone. They left, regarding my wish.

Why was I always like this? Why was I the one to take the fall? Why?

“Poor Lotte.” “Poor sweet Little Lotte.” Two voices rang out. I gasp sharply and turn to where the voices sang creepily. And involuntary shutter flew down my back. I shivered. The atmosphere felt so...eerie now....

“She’s got a very serious problem, doesn’t she, brother?” One sang and a hum followed in agreement.

“If only-” “-there were something-” “-we could do!” “But there is something....!” The voices kept bouncing left and right. My tears have dried as I kept trying to pinpoint where they were coming from. I scanned the area. Not another person was in sight. 

“Who’s there? Who are you?” I call out in the darkness. I was getting a bit tired and pissed now. “I’m not in the mood for games! Now show yourselves!”

Suddenly from out of the shadows, two identical figures had appeared. They wore the same attire, yet while one was done up perfectly, the other was partially loose fitting. What set them apart more were their looks. Teal hair with a dark strand framing either the left or right of their faces. An earring with three blue stones were worn on the same sides. The two possessed  heterochromia iridium. One eye a dark beige, the other a gleaming yellow. 

The Leech Twins, Floyd and Jade.

“There’s no need to be hostile.” Jade spoke, smiling lightly.

“We know someone who can help you.” Floyd picked up, showing off sharp teeth in a sly grin.

I back up slightly, my hips hitting a chair, my eyes never leaving them. Yet when I blink, they’re gone. I whip my head behind to see where they’re at.

Then there was an arm around my waist.

I shriek and throw my hand back in a backhanded fist, praying for a clean strike. But got caught midair. By another, white-gloved hand.

“Someone who can help you find what you’ve lost long ago.” Cold lips were on my wrist and pointed teeth gently scratch the surface. I held my breath. Shut my eyes in paranoia.

The same feel of gloved hands take ahold of my other hand, lips gently trace the back.

“Just think of it,” they blended as one. “You and your family....reunited....forever....”

My eyes open, staring at one spot. “I-I don’t really understand.” Why with the stuttering, Charlie?!

“Azul...has extraordinary powers.” A voice coaxes on my right.

My eyes widen at that name. “Your...your lead?!” Riddle told off nearly all the dorm leaders (or more in his case every last one of them) that he can’t stand as soon as he took me in. Then again, he’s always like this.... telling ordering me constantly NEVER go join them. Especially Diasomnia’s.

But he’s not here! Yet...why do I still feel hesitant...?

Oh for the love of god, am I seriously letting that midget’s words get the better of my decisions?! He’s not the boss of me!!

“But that’s...I couldn’t possibly....”

“NO!” I scream, ripping myself away. My heartbeat shot up tenfold when the space was extended. “Doing that would be like selling my soul to a demon! I just couldn’t!” Burying my face in my hands, the tears sprung up again.

They seemed to sense my distress. “Very well.” Jade shrugged one shoulder in surrender. “It was just a suggestion.” Floyd finished. With a small bow and tip of the hat, they slipped back into the shadows.

When I felt they had left, I let my hands fall, but now there was a mirror, tall enough for a self portrait. I see my reflection: tear tracks lined down my cheeks, eyes red and hair ruffled. At least I didn’t look like a complete mess.

My eyes trail down to the necklace. Trey had given me a cleaning cloth for my pendant, to always keep it shiny.

Just one look sent me to my thoughts on my aunt.

Aunt Sam...Mom and Dad...I wonder how they’re doing.

Fuck it. I may or may not regret it, but at this point, what other choice is there?

Without thinking, I blurt out, “Wait a minute!”

“Yes?” I could’ve sworn I saw their eyes glow in the darkness.

Looking them dead on, the only thing that left my lips was what sealed my fate: “When’s the soonest I can see him?”

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

That’s what I’ve got 😅. And long story short: Mia was another potential OC of mine alongside Charlie. She’s in Savanaclaw, and a Ratel-Hybrid. I dunno if I should bring her into the fam...

[moththefly]

Avengers: Endgame [MAJOR SPOILERS]

Just watched Avengers: Endgame...

...

holy mother of god

I think I never bawled my eyes out like that in a movie.. (My whole face is still burning)

But I loved it so much it felt like I left this universe for 3 hours

So here a few quick thoughts:

[Spoiler warning of course]

First of all: That entrance scene? Excuse me what? You can't just punch a small person like me in the face with that right in the beginning! Instantly began screeching on the inside like an owl had its wings ripped off

Thanos "dying" in the first few minutes.. well.. didn't expect that

Carol with the short hair.. I mean isn't that the number one reason I came to watch? Fucking finally (my sexuality shivered) still: didn't get much screentime

!!!!MORGAN STARK!!!! I REPEAT!! MORGAN STARK!!!!! (MY HEART LITERALLY EXPLODED)

also → Iron-Dad (only the most important thing in my life from now on)

WTF Banner????!

Thor... *sigh* why'd you have to do our boy dirty like that? Russo Bros, explain! Every charakter development he went through in Ragnarok just smashed to the ground and he got reduced to that dumbass he was in the very beginning while gaining quite a few pounds.. All for the laughs. Makes me a little.. a teeny tiny bit angry. (Also.. giving up his rank to Valkyrie even though he just learned how to be a responsible leader? what?)

All the dabbing and Fortnite...

Baby Scott: see no difference

Barton being a fucking badass savage! (I also think I drooled a little at his first entrance) (I mean, have you seen that hair? those tattoos? holy jesus thats what I call a glow up) (can't say that loosing his family only did bad things to him) (sorry..)

"I can do this all day.." "I know"

AMERICA'S ASS

The elevator scene.. "Hail Hydra" holy moly man you can be quite a scary dude

LOKI HAS THE TESSERACT (not entirely what we wanted but we'll take whatever hope there is for snake-witch-boy™)

also: no word of him from anyone? like at all? not even from Thor?!

Nebula T-T ur dad is such an asshole

The Vormir scene.. ouch? I think kicking a wall with rusty nails in each toe would've been less painful. But it was the only right way for Nat to go. Only made me realize way more what a dick move killing Gamora was. These two fought each other to be the one to die. They wanted to sacrifice their lives for eachother without any second thoughts. Man. I weeped bittersweet tears.

Also: Clint having to let go of Natasha's arm... Jeez you really had him go through everything, didn't you?

The Hulk snap™

*Laura calls*; everything: *seems fine*; Thanos immediately: *nope bitches, here we go*

Big 3 vs. Thanos

THE HAMMER THE MOTHERFCKIN HAMMER HAKGDSBBBBABSKJ

"On the left" so... my brain shut down. Big psyche error. Breathing.exe just stopped working

All those people

god, my prayers have been heard

skfhvjjfbsfnjds

help

I think I screamed a little

And then: "Avengers.... Assemble"

And I screamed more

Complete awesomeness overload

PETER FUCKING PARKER finally. "This is nice"

Seeing this little cinnamon roll fight in a war like that made my heart bleed a little though

[I could keep writing about everything that I loved here for a few more hours, but no]

And then of course.. everything crumbled. We're approaching the Iron-glove scene hffhhfhh

Him sitting there with that look in his eyes and Peter calling him Tony gave me the rest

(From here on I couldn't stop crying, just so you know.. I saw everything through my tear-rivers)

(Then stopped for aproximately 10 seconds.. then started again when Pepper carried the bouquet with the reactor down the stairs)

"Your dad loved cheeseburgers"

"Don't do anything stupid unti I get back" = Goodbye

At least Steve got his happy end! (me: still crying)

Soooo..... I am utterly destroyed.

The person you heard crying in the cinema bathroom stall next to you was probably me.

When I saw those who watched after us I wanted to scream: "Run, you fools!!"

But I didn't.

Because my throat hurt and my eyes burned and I wasnt able to eiter walk or talk properly.

I think I'll need a few days.

#Don’tSpoilTheEndgame

[dannyphantomisameme]

~ Chapter 6 ~

(Click for prologue, chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter four part one, chapter four part 2, chapter 5, fan fiction link, and AO3 link)

Alarms blared loudly, although Danny couldn’t tell if they were real or just a figure of his imagination. His vision clashed with red streams as the lights flickered on and off. Even with his supernatural vision, he couldn’t make out anything in the darkness. Transforming quickly into his ghost half, he attempted to crawl across the floor, however, something constricted his movements.

The shards of glass dispersed on the ground pricked his skin when he rolled over onto his back, sending tiny, sharp pains to his spine. When the lights flickered on, he could make out an object enclosed around him, restricting his further actions. The usual cold sensation curled within his chest wasn’t there, leaving him incapable of defending himself.

With the recurrent flickering, Danny finally noticed the large robotic figure in front of him. The ghost’s flaming green hair roared behind his head and illuminated his face. His suit was complete with sturdy silver armor and several ghost weapons. His hollow eyes stared back at Danny while a grin curled across his face.

“Hello Welp. It’s great to see you again.” The ghost grumbled as he held Danny in a net. His entire body was scrunched inside of the woven web of string.  

“Skulker.” Danny muttered back. He didn’t need this now. He was in the middle of figuring out what the fuck that blue mist was, and in had to come the bumbling ‘Ghost Zone’s Greatest Hunter’.

“Didn’t think I’d find you in the human realm. But what was with that bright flash?” Skulker bellowed as he brought the net to his eye level. Right, Skulker didn’t know about his human half and he almost gave himself away.

“Uh… just testing out a new power.” Danny muttered while trying to wrench free. The net was dampening his spectral abilities and prohibiting him from escaping. “How did you find me anyways?”

“This is my biggest haunt, Welp. You registered on my radar.” Biggest haunt? Did Skulker come here often? But how? He couldn’t survive unless he figured out a way to maintain a stable portal to the ghost dimension. This dumbass could’ve never figured that out. However, Danny recalled the Box Ghost back at the mattress factory. That meant there was a portal nearby. But where? “But enough of the small talk. Tell me where Ember is.” Skulker barked.

Shit.

“Y-you don’t understand. I- ” Danny was cut off as a wave of shock was sent through his body. The sensation traveled from the wisps of the net to the tips of his fingers, leaving his body scorching. It burned. The alarms continued to blare behind him. Danny gasped once the electrocution ended, leaving his heart hammering in his chest.

“According to my cameras, you were the last person to see her. Where. Is. She?” The look of longing on Skulker’s face clenched Danny’s heart in a way he couldn’t describe. The poor ghost missed his partner, but Danny couldn’t tell him what happened. He wouldn’t believe him anyway. Skulker probably thought Danny did something horrible, which he in fact did, instead of his father forcing him to.

“Just, let me explain. I-” Danny floundered to speak, not sure what to say.

“Plasmius told me it all.” Skulker interjected. Danny paled, his father told Skulker? Skulker didn’t know Danny was Vlad’s son, so he was safe for the while. “You sick bastard. I knew letting you get close to her was a dumb move, but she begged me to let your friendship continue. You took pleasure in eradicating the only one who truly loved me…” he stopped momentarily, staring off into the distance. Suddenly, his face became engrossed in rage, the corner of his lip rising to grimace “Now, you will pay.” Skulker’s voice had taken on a different tone: one filled with revenge. The ghost dropped the boy as he searched his armored arm for the perfect weapon.

Danny needed a way out fast. His absent powers only left him with his fists being his only defense. There was no way out. Unless…

He hadn’t mastered the power yet, but it was the only ability suitable for this occasion.

Inhaling and forcing his core to intertwine, Danny let loose a ghostly wail. The green echoes shattered the net, sending him to the ground and Skulker into a wall of lockers. The lockers were left with a large dent in the shape of the robotic ghost. He heard more mirrors fracture into several filaments, littering the sinks and ground. Danny finally transformed back and collapsed onto the ground, pieces of glass penetrating his pale skin.

His eyes fluttered to close, but he fought the urge of unconsciousness. The wail had drained what little strength he had after the net dampened his powers. Lifting himself up onto his knees, he noticed Skulker had disappeared, except the place was trashed. The lockers were dented and the stalls doors were ripped from their hinges. One of the three white, porcelain sinks was smashed beyond repair. A stream of water leaked from the bowl of one toilet, running onto the tiled floor. Great. How am I going to explain this to the school?

Danny groaned as he laid on the floor. His head felt like someone had smashed it against the pavement, preventing him from using his common sense and getting the hell out of there. The blaring alarms didn’t help his migraine either. He could barely move, let alone open his eyes.

“Dude! Are you ok? Was it a ghost?!” A familiar voice echoed. Cracking an eye open, Danny saw Tuck stood by the entrance with his mouth dropped in shock. He ran towards the injured boy while being careful to not step on any large shards of glass. Tuck helped Danny sit up by grabbing him by the armpits. The scrawny boy was surprisingly strong, although Danny was also quite light due to his ghost-half. Tuck stared at Danny, eyes roaming his maimed skin. Small tears of blood wept from his exposed legs. His skin was covered in a light layer of ash from the electrocution.

“A what?!” Danny shouted over the deafening alarms. How did it Tuck know about ghosts? Had his father exposed him to the world? Did he know Danny was half-ghost? His head swam in questions, attempting to stay afloat amidst the vast sea of confusion. His vision was blurry with black spots and he felt like collapsing into a nice slumber.

“A ghost. Those are the ghost alarms.” Tuck said pointing to the red warning signal in the corner. Danny’s eyes could barely follow the direction of Tuck’s finger. “Ghost attacks are common here. Unfortunately, you experienced one first hand. Let’s get you to the nurse.” he paused while sizing the halfa up once again. “Man, you look terrible.” Tuck finally responded as he grabbed Danny’s arm and placed it over his shoulder. Danny let out a moan when he stood up. His steps felt sluggish and he felt his vision tilt sideways.

“No!” Danny slurred a little too quickly. He couldn’t go to the nurse. His body was different than humans in several ways. His body normalities were considered abnormal. Going to the nurse meant getting exposed, and he didn’t need that. “I-I just need to get cleaned up, its fine. I’m f-fine.” he said reassuringly more for himself than for Tuck.

“Dude, no way. You have to go to the nurse. Unless… your scared of the nurse?” Tuck turned to look at Danny questioningly, although he had a smile on his face. Danny could barely comprehend his words, let alone his expression. “Don’t worry. I am too. Truth be told, I was going to have Sam carry you to the nurse. But if you’re afraid…”

“Yes. Yes I hate the nurse.” Danny took the first cover story he could get. It wasn’t a complete lie, he truly was afraid of going to the nurse in fear of someone discovering he wasn’t fully human. Tuck nodded in reply and swept the floor of glass with his leg. He set Danny down and went to grab paper towels. While Tuck wasn’t looking, Danny intangibly phased the pieces of glass out of his body and swept them aside. The alarms finally shut off, and the room returned to silence.

Danny stood up shakily, using the wall beside him for support. His muscles felt weak from the electrocution, but he knew that he would heal in a few minutes. In fact, he already felt better, especially with the silence. The small cuts on his legs had already sealed shut, unnoticeable other than the streaks of dried blood on his legs.

“Dude sit down. You look like you just died.” Tuck shouted as he headed over with a stack of wet paper towels. Danny paled slightly at the mention of his death. Tuck didn’t know, did he? He wouldn’t help me if I wasn’t entirely human, right?

“I’m fine.” Danny deadpanned, leaning against the wall.

“You’ve said that twice. I don’t know man, you should go to the nurse.” Tuck doubted his new acquaintance’s claims, considering just moments ago he looked ready to pass out. Danny shook his head, insisting he stay. “You’re lucky I got here when I did.” Tuck said eyeing Danny as he wiped his legs of the blood.

“Did you see the ghost?” Danny asked. What if Tuck saw Skulker talking to him? Or what if he saw him using his powers? He was surely doomed if Tuck had seen anything from the encounter.

“Nope. But from the look of this room, it looks like it was a big one. What did it look like?” Tuck asked. Danny didn’t know if he should reply. Would Tuck recognize the ghost if he described it?

“Uh… grey. Like a robot. Green hair. Armored suit with large weapons. I really didn’t have time to get a good look at it since I was dodging his shots.” Danny said as he tried to keep the details to a minimum. Hopefully, Tuck wouldn’t recognize Skulker.

“You mean Skulker?” Tuck asked. Danny tried not to let his jaw drop. How did he know? Is Tuck a ghost expert? “He comes here often. Although the Fenton’s always handle him. They’re too late today, but he left just as he came based off of the ghost sensors. What did Skulker do by the way?” Who were the Fentons? And the school had ghost sensors?

“N-nothing really. Just tried to hit me with an ec- some gun. He hit the glass and it shattered. I tripped and this happened.” Danny said gesturing towards his legs. Tuck nodded, although he his expression displayed something of skepticism. His stumble had caused suspicion in the African American boy. Even Danny’s acting experience couldn’t help him when he was drained.

“Shouldn’t you remove the glass pieces in your skin? And, is this ash??” Tuck ran his finger along Danny’s arm and accumulated a small clump of a black substance.

“I really don’t remember. It all happened too fast, I’m sorry. I just need a shower.” Danny tried to change the subject. Tuck nodded in reply and showed Danny to the shower. He could walk on his own now, although he fumbled all the while. The white and red gym uniform that clung loosely to his figure was a mess, partially torn and partially burnt.

While Danny quickly rinsed himself of the dirt, Tuck went into the locker supervisors room and grabbed another uniform for Danny. Danny redressed and dried his hair, just in time to hear someone enter the locker room.

“Anyone in he- woah! Mad’s it's a big one!” a large voice bellowed through the room. Tuck and Danny tiptoed past the lockers and over to the couple who had large bazookas in hand. Peeking over the corner, Tuck whispered towards Danny explaining that it was the Fentons. The two walked out into the open once they realized the coast was clear.  Once they noticed the boys, they immediately aimed at them, ready to shoot down any threat.

Tuck held his hands up as if he were caught by the police and Danny slowly followed suit. “We took shelter here when we heard the alarms go off. We were just going to leave. But I think Skulker was here.” Tuck mustered up a cover story with little give way to his lies. A slim woman in a dark turquoise hazmat suit switched her gaze between the two, before lowering her weapon and removing her goggles.

“I’m sorry boys. Are you alright?” Her motherly tone was sweet, but determined. Her larger partner, who was clad in an orange hazmat suit, was scoping around the stalls, sizing up the destruction.

“We’re fine.” Danny replied instead of Tuck. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recognized the couple, but he couldn’t place a name on their features. His memory was hazy, but he brushed off the thought. His mind was distrustful anyway; it never led him to the correct course of action.

“Great! Please return back to class then. Walk slowly, there’s glass everywhere.” The woman replied gleefully while she turned back to her partner. The two boys nodded in response and scurried out to the gymnasium.

“You feeling ok man? You should skip the rest of gym if you need to.” Tuck asked as they walked through the gym and towards the class. Mrs. Tetslaff blew her whistle as the students tossed around a basketball. Dash passed the orange ball towards some Asian kid.

“I’m refreshed now. I’ll be fine.” Danny said reassuringly. He truly felt better, thanks to his advanced healing ability. Although, he had yet to figure out what the blue breath had been. That’s what had brought him to the locker room in the first place.

“That’s the fourth time you’ve said fine.”

“Shut up.” Danny muttered as Tuck chuckled. Tuck joined the rest of class, but before Danny could, he was stopped in his tracks.

“Masters!” Mrs. Tetslaff called out for him and he raced to her, hoping he wasn’t in big trouble. “Where’ve you been? Class is half over!” She yelled at him. Compared to her, Danny looked like a small child.

“The ghost alarms went off and I hid. I’m new to this uh- ghost stuff, so I didn’t know what wa going on or when to come out.” He nervously spoke as he rubbed his neck. He tried to make his behavior look ordinary, instead of overconfident and cocky. However, he wasn’t the slightest bit afraid of the brawny gym coach.

“Fine. Next time, you come back here.” Mrs. Tetslaff said as she pointed to the ground. She accepted his excuse and advised him to join the rest of the class. Nodding, he joined Tuck and Sam who were bouncing a ball back and forth at the back of the gym. They didn’t engage with the rest of the class, making them appear like outcasts, which was perfect for his situation. No one would recognize his sudden disappearance in two weeks. Come to think of it, it was better if he left before his previous plan, since Skulker had found him and eventually would let his father know.  

“Ouch. Ghost attack on the first day. Are you alright?” Sam asked as he approached the two. She threw the ball towards him and he caught it with ease. He sent it back towards her. Tuck must have updated Sam with whatever happened in the locker rooms.

“I’m fine.” Danny said.

“Five.” Tuck quirked.

“Be quiet.” Danny muttered under his breath.

“You both are pussies.” Sam retorted.

“Excuse me?” Danny was confused about her insult.

“Scared of the nurse? Some harmless old lady with bandaids?” She chuckled as she spun the basketball on her finger.

“Hehe, yea.” Danny said, awed by the spinning sphere at the tip of her finger. She had great skill with the ball.

They continued to throw the basketball back and forth for another 10 minutes while conversing about past ghost attacks. Danny pretended to know nothing near the topic of ghosts while Sam and Tuck rambled on about Amity’s typical haunters. Apparently Amity Park had a history of being ridiculed for its false claim of ghosts. Even going as far as to stage fake ghost attacks every once in a while. However, the citizens of the town knew the truth: ghosts were real and they were harming the city. The town received less government funding than it should with all the property damage, so the taxes were higher to compensate for the lack of funding. Danny had personal experience with ghosts first hand, although he didn’t let the other two know.

“It all started 10 years ago. Ghosts just suddenly started showing up, although no one knows how or from where they are coming.” Tuck said as he tossed the ball over to Danny.

“That’s crazy. But, just out of nowhere?” Danny asked passing the ball to Sam.

“Yea. We’ve gotten used to the attacks. You will too. We get to be trained to use weapons once we’re eighteen.” Sam said with excitement. The glint in her eyes suggested she oddly desired to hold a weapon. Danny knew Sam was different than the other girls, not just looks but personality too. Her likings and style was quite apparent when she stood next to other girls.

“Well that’s something to look forward to.” Danny said shrugging. Mrs. Tetslaff blew her whistle and called the class over. Once she explained tomorrow’s agenda, she sent the students off to their respective locker rooms.

Most of the boys stopped right when they entered the locker room, gazing at the terror they had marginally avoided. The janitor was currently fixing up the sink and stall doors. It seemed as if he had already sweeped the floor of the million glass shards. Danny and Tuck quickly went to their lockers and changed into their original clothes. As they finished up, the bell rang, signifying the start of passing time until their next class. The boys shut their lockers, grabbed their backpacks, and exited the class.

“Next, it’s my favorite part of the day: lunch.” Tuck said rubbing his stomach. Danny also felt a rumble originating from his stomach. Hurling up what little breakfast he ate had left him hungry.

The cafeteria was just as bland as the school with its white porcelain tiles and light blue walls. Danny followed Tuck to the queue other students stood in, including Sam. She was reading a black book, although Danny couldn’t see the title. Her spider backpack was slung loosely over her shoulder.

“What’re you reading Sam?” Tuck asked as if reading Danny’s mind.

Without looking up from her book, she replied “Dummies Guide to Ghosts. It’s a work of the Fentons.”

Danny was puzzled as to why she would read a book on ghosts, or why the Fentons were so important here. He’d heard the couple mentioned several times, but he didn’t understand what was so special about them. “By the way, who are the Fentons?”

Sam and Tucker swiveled to look at Danny like he had asked the dumbest question possible. Although somewhere in his memory he recognized the Fentons, it must have been a coincidence. He’d never met or heard of the Fentons in his life, how would he recognize them?

“Dude. You must’ve have heard of the Fentons. Their an international sensation. Were you living under a rock in New York?” Tuck exclaimed. He wasn’t living under a rock, per say. Just captivated by a murderous father who completely ruined my life to the point where I can’t do anything without nervously contemplating my actions.

“Uh- no?” Danny finally said.

“Their the only spectral scientists worldwide. There’s no one in their field, except them. Their also the only ones who keep this city free of ghosts. And their my parents.” A tall, slim girl said in front of them. She had hip length auburn hair that was pushed back with a turquoise headband. She wore a long sleeve black top with turquoise pants that matched that of her headband. Danny could see the resemblance between this girl and the female Fenton. “I’m Jasmine, or Jazz, by the way. And you’re…?” she said extending her hand.

“Danny. Uh Daniel Masters.” he said shaking her hand. She suddenly stopped, looking at him intently.

“Masters? You mean… are you related to Vlad Masters?” She asked questioningly, finally returning his hand to his side. Danny’s eyes widened as shock overwhelmed his being. She knew his father? No way this was a coincidence. Did she know everything? What if she knew about him - that he’s half-ghost. He needed to get out. Now.

“Uh, what? You know… Vlad?” he said feeling the sudden urge to flee. It would look way too suspicious. He needed to get out of this conversation now.

“What do you mean? Everyone knows Vlad Masters. The billionaire. Although my parents and Vlad were colleagues, so he visits sometimes.” Jazz said. The feeling of anxiousness curled in his stomach, suggesting something was wrong. His father was nationally famous? No way, he hardly left the house let alone visited others. However, he was exceptionally wealthy, yet Danny never knew how he had accumulated much money. It was possible that he could have duplicated himself in order to leave, oh shit. Daniel knew nothing about his father and he was learning more from others than himself.

“No. I’m not related to him.” Danny anxiously negated. If Jazz knew Vlad, maybe Jazz knew about the torture he went through everyday. However, that was highly unlikely considering his father would never expose him like that.

“Dude, but you’ve got to be related.” Tuck asked disbelievingly.

“Uh…” Danny didn’t know how Tuck could’ve figured it out. Was his acting slipping?

“Look at the rolex on your wrist. Those things cost a fortune. Your rich.” Sam said sighing. She didn’t seem swayed by his supposed wealth.

“That doesn’t mean I’m related to Vlad Masters. I’ve never even heard that name in my life.” Danny said as he crossed his arms. He looked convincingly like he was saying the truth, however in reality he was just acting. He didn’t want anyone connecting him to his father, but someone already had, although he denied their accusation. Running away was the best option this time.

“Dude. You’re still loaded aren’t you?” Tuck asked excitingly. Danny didn’t understand Tuck’s slang, as most of his vocabulary was outside modern terminology.

“I don’t know what that means.” Danny said perplexed.

“He’s asking if your rich.” Jazz clarified for Danny. He shook his head, he didn’t need people thinking he was wealthy. That would only foster further questions.

“So who are your parents? They’ve got to have some standing if you’ve got this watch.” Sam asked flipping a page in her book.

“Benjamin and Isabella Masters. I doubt you’d know who they are. They work in the business field.” Danny said recalling the names he had typed in his application from to the school.

“My parent’s and I know just about everyone in this town. Show me a picture and I guarantee I can recognize them.” Sam said. How would she know everyone in the town? It seemed to be oppose her free-flowing, apathetic personality.

“Where would I have a picture?”

“On your phone.”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“WHAT?!” Tuck yelled as the entire cafeteria turned to look at the commotion. Sam glared at them and the students returned back to their activities. “How do you not have a phone? Your rich and you don’t have a phone?!” Tuck’s hands flailed in the air as his mouth was open in shock.

“First off, I’m not rich. Second, Father never let me have a phone. He thinks they corrupt minds.” Danny said. Although that was partially true, Danny had asked Vlad for a phone when he was 11 since all the kids his age had one. He received three lashings for that.

“He’s definitely a rich kid. He just said father.” Sam whispered towards Jazz. Jazz nodded in return. Danny thought of mentioning he wasn’t rich once again, but they finally reached the food. Today’s lunch was spaghetti and meatballs, however the lunch didn’t seem all that edible. Handing the elderly cashier lady some cash, Danny followed the other three and sat down at a round table in the far corner of the cafeteria.

“Do you mind if I join you guys for today?” Jazz asked placing her tray down.

“If you wanna risk your social standing, go right ahead and sit with the outcasts.” she said sarcastically. Jazz rolled her eyes and took a seat right next to Danny. She nudged her food with her fork, as if contemplating whether to eat it or not. Danny was doing the same. The food looked and smelled nothing compared to the dishes the chef cooked back at the mansion. However, Danny was starving and at least eating something tonight would be better than nothing at all. Taking a bite of the spaghetti, he almost gagged. The sauce had no flavor and the pasta was undercooked. The meatballs were also stale with no seasoning.

“Where did you move in?” Jazz asked beside him. Danny didn’t know how to reply. Since the town was so small, she could know just about every street name there is. And if he made one up that didn’t exist, they would instantly figure out he’s lying.

“I haven’t memorized the address yet, so quite frankly, I don’t know. All I know is that I live in a suburban neighborhood at the edge of town.”

“Oh yea, I heard about a family moving in there.” Tuck said. “Those houses aren’t the greatest for a rich kid like you.”

“I’m not rich. And I won’t be here long, it’s just temporary.”

“You’re gonna be leaving us? How could you?!” Tucker mocked while placing the back of his hand on his forehead as if he were a damsel in distress. Jazz let out a light chuckle at the display.

“Probably by winter break, maybe earlier than that.” Danny said twirling his pasta with a fork. He dubiously took another bite of the pasta and chewed.

“Wow. That’s only two weeks away.” Sam said munching on a sandwich with only a lettuce leaf inside. She had set down her book to focus on eating her lunch.

“Yea. We move a lot so I’m used to the quick friendships.” Danny lied. He’d never had a friend before, other than Ember. But he ruined any chances with the rockstar ghost. If only he’d escaped before releasing Ember from the thermos.

Sighing, he was interrupted in his thoughts by a deep voice.

“Masturd! You’re going to pay for today morning!” the voice rang out across the cafeteria. Realizing who it belonged to, Danny groaned. Closing his eyes and exhaling, he stood up.

Turning around and opening his eyes, he was met face to face with a blonde jock who was currently jamming his fist into his palm as a sign of intimidation. The look of rage encapsulated his face while Danny felt the need to smile cockily. He was doomed for sure.

“Hello Dash.”

[hahanoiwont]

turn left writing prompt: 1. down for the count but the umbrella doesn't open so lup isn't there to help taako. 2. Stop Me but kravitz tells the crew that taako is trying to get himself killed

oh shit yeah I love it

send me a story and change one thing and I’ll tell you how it would have gone!

1. Taako just fucking dies. I set it up so Barry can’t get there in time, Taako is not capable of casting featherfall himself, he literally falls off the cliff and dies. Barry’s Real Fucked Up about it, but he was still falling fast enough to break the umbrella, so Lup’s here now, I guess. Magnus and Merle arrive to a corpse and two inconsolable liches. Barry feels terrible about it but he’s glad Lup is out, and Lup is so so frustrated at herself for not scraping up the energy to cast a level 1 fucking spell when her brother’s life depended on it.

Taako lives in the astral plane now. Lucretia takes it as evidence that she has to end this fast and sends the other two to Wonderland immediately, pretty much following canon timeline but with Taako kicking it in the Eternal Stockade while Kravitz tries to figure something out. Magnus and Merle are devastated, of course. They all kind of thought they’d be in it to the end. They don’t know why looking back, but they kind of felt like they were invincible. Even when he’s dead, they keep feeling like he’ll be there when they turn around. It’s a lot quieter now. Carey really tries to be there for Magnus but the three of them were family, you know? And Merle visits his kids and just. Holds them. It scares Mavis and he tries to act like nothing’s happened so he doesn’t freak them out.

They have a hard fuckin time of it for the first round of Wonderland. Magnus barely wants to live and Merle can’t keep it together all by himself. They’re doin Real Bad before Lup, who desperately wants to kill someone just to make the emptiness go away, fucking wrecks the place. Everyone in it except for Magnus and Merle die. They barely manage to save the Sterling crew too, but there are heavy injuries.

Meanwhile, something funny is happening in the astral plane. Taako’s been babbling about a sister when Kravitz knows full well he doesn’t have any family, and he keeps talking about something coming and Kravitz thinks whatever killed him must have fucked him up real bad, because he has no idea what it is, he just knows Taako died from it, and Taako is no pushover. But then he doesn’t have time to worry about it, because all of a sudden he’s drowning and everything is gone.

He thinks this is his eternity now, just drowning in oily darkness with no end in sight, when a light breaks through.

It’s Taako, and he’s kicking ass. They get to the Eternal Stockade and Taako is like, now do you believe me? Cause I fucking told you so. And they cling to each other for a bit. Taako catches Kravitz up on the end of the world. Kravitz has to take a moment. So that’s it, then? he thinks. This is the end? Taako’s going to disappear and I’m just going to end here?

Fuck no, says Taako, we’re gonna fucking beat this thing. And then a bright light shows Kravitz how Taako’s spent the last hundred years, and when he comes to Taako’s turning the floor into precious gemstones.

I appreciate you emulating the relic you created, Taako, very thematic, points for drama, good callback to how we met, but is now really the time?

Fuck off, I know what I’m doing. Gimme a hand here.

Between Lup in the Prime Material Plane and Taako and Kravitz in the Astral, they manage to open up a portal. Taako and Kravitz stumble out, Taako and Lup have a beautiful reunion, timeline follows canon.

In the end, Taako is dead, though. Like he’s very much not alive anymore and that’s not really, like, going away? He’s allowed to grow a body and have a second chance, but he looks at his options and, you know, he knows how elves age. He knows most of his companions are human. He decides he doesn’t want to be the last one standing while all his loved ones die around him. Bone zone’s not so bad, he says. I think I’ll stick around for a bit.

(Please don’t call it that, Kravitz says, pretending not to laugh)

Luckily for him, he’s got options. He’s the savior of reality, and also has shown some decent problem-solving skills and combat proficiency, so RQ wouldn’t mind giving him a position if he makes himself useful. He thinks about it. But really, he’s gotta go with Istus. Not that RQ isn’t cool and shit, just, death, you know? Black’s not his color. And fate is very much a part of the lives of each person who helped to save the world, so he gets to see his family. He spends a long-assed time as an emissary of Istus, and she tolerates his antics and only sometimes has to remind him that she could crush him with a thought. I’m tempted to say he convinces Magnus to also do that for a little? Partially bc I’m a sucker for reaper Julia (ooh or she could serve Istus too?) and also bc I think Magnus would be good at it.

2. Lup is kickin it with Magnus one day and some dude shows up. in her room. on the starblaster. Taako is going to kill himself, he says.

What the fuck, Lup says. Get the fuck out. Magnus hits him with a chair.

No actually, Taako is going to kill himself, he asked me to do it and I said no but he’s planning something really fucking stupid and you need to stop him, the dude says, but he’s wheezing a little bit so Magnus is satisfied. Got the wind knocked out of him.

You don’t know shit about my brother, says Lup, who has definitely seen the signs and is deeply into denial territory. She is handling it, she thinks, erroneously.

Kravitz tries Barry next, because Merle would be awkward, he doesn’t know Davenport, and Lucretia would probably be a bad idea. Barry takes one fucking look at him and nopes right out. He’s not dealing with this shit in his home where he can’t have collateral damage. Kravitz follows him to a randomly selected clearing planetside. Barry is ready to do that meme where you see something bad on the internet and you say to yourself, ‘wouldn’t want my lovely wife seeing this!’ and smash your computer with a hammer. Maybe light it on fire to be safe. You need to use all that extra gasoline somehow.

Kravitz does not have time for Barold J Bluejeans’s necromancer bullshit. Taako is literally trying to kill himself and like corrupt his soul somehow??? please. Like I don’t think your death crimes are what you have to worry about right now. We will definitely worry about those! but not right now.

Barry is intrigued by this. He is strongly against his dear friends committing suicide via horribly mutated arcane ritual. He doesn’t see why one of RQ’s people would come up with such an outlandish lie. He would like to know why Kravitz knows this, and also, why Kravitz knows who they are.

Kravitz, in this au, has not agreed not to talk about anything. He tells Barry everything. How he died, how Angus died, how Taako died, what he thinks must have happened after that. Barry does not say so, but he notes that they have a plan to defeat the Hunger now, and also apparently Taako has had that for at least a hundred years and said nothing??? okay, Taako. He must be missing something there.

Kravitz was honestly expecting Taako to have told the crew what’s what. He was a little disoriented when Taako told him no one knew. But now Barry knows, and he insists on telling Davenport, and once Davenport’s onboard it’s time to tell everyone else, and then they set up an intervention. They get all ready for it. They are waiting for Taako. He is late. He is later. He is very, very late. The sun is rising and he still has not come home. The sun is peaking and he has not come home. Lup is shooting massive amounts of anxiety-fueled fire into the sky and he still is not home.

Taako is gone. He has turned himself into the Prime Material Plane like a dumbass. In this au, they don’t have his notes and they don’t have anyone on the inside helping them. unless

Angus McDonald, 110 year old boy detective, is on the case. He is deeply frightened by quasi-sane definitely-dangerous Actual Plane Taako, but also Taako is his friend and he wants to help. He convinces Taako to come with him bc he wants to show him something. Zagged on ‘em, it’s actually an ambushtervention. Taako is forced to talk to his damned family, fucker, for once in your life. A non-bullshit solution is found but no spoilers for the actual fic. The whole Wonderland mess is averted and everyone is much less traumatized. Still kinda sucks tho, you haven’t unlocked Happy Ending.

There is actually one thing that could be changed that would make the whole thing happy, though. Keep trying!

[redvsvblue]

Your writing is awesome. Any fun shipping involving Michael and Ryan in an Airport related AU? (Based off that list you reblogged)

Hey, anon, anon, you’re awesome. :-P. That being said, uh, this…became less of a prompt and more of an entire fic. I’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted! (I chose ‘we have the same luggage and didn’t check the tags before we left so i’m calling you to exchange suitcases (and you also had some interesting things in your bag so i’m excited to meet you) au’ from the list!) 

Thank you for prompting, though! I do hope you like it! 

The phone rings awayand Michael holds it between ear and shoulder as he scratches hischin with a yawn. Late morning sunlight splashes over his livingroom, over the plush rug and the stale sofas he hasn’t sat on in aweek.

Michael lowers hisbowl of cereal to the table to flip over the rubbery luggage tagagain, rubbing his thumb over the brand name and drifting over thename messily scrawled in under the plastic covering.

The phone connectsand Michael snaps to attention, listening carefully to the silence onthe other end.

“Hello?”

“…Yeah?” Ascratchy voice replies, thick with sleep. And probably jetlag,whoops.

“Ryan?”

“…Is this Jack?”

“Uh, no, this is –I’m Michael. We, uh, we seem to have the wrong luggage.”

“Yeah, I figuredthat out when I saw the Amiibos. Give me a second.”

– 

“So, you livein Austin too. Thank god you weren’t connecting.”

“Yeah,thankfully.”  

“…I gottaask, what’s with the knives?”

“They’re –for a friend.”

“A friend?”

“Shut up.”

“And what’swith the makeup?”

“Okay, that’sdefinitely for afriend.”

Michael waitspatiently in the window seat at Starbucks, scrolling idly through hisphone as he waits for this Ryanto show up with his luggage.

“GavinDipshit Free?” Someone asks, tearing Michael from his screen as helooks up to see – well, who must presumably be Ryan,a charming smile and a polite hand extended and Michael’s suitcaseby his legs.

“It’sfor his birthday,” Michael says, grinning back as he shakes Ryan’shand and gestures for him to sit across. Ryanlaughs lightly and rolls his suitcase over under the table –Michael pushes Ryan’s over, and with their own luggage safelytucked next to their legs, they start up a mild conversation. Afterall, Michael does have somequestions.

“Thepotpourri was a nice touch,” Ryan says.

“Yeah,well, I’m not gonna let my dirty socks stink it up, that’s justgross.”

“Iappreciated it. Sorry I couldn’t return the favour.”

“Nah,you were fine. The body glitter is a little questionable, though, Imean, what are you, a stripper? Entertainer?”

Michaelshoots him a teasing little smile and Ryan laughs, shaking his head.

“No,uh, I was at a – convention. With a friend.” Ryan’s eyes driftover to Michael’s forearm and seem to light up a touch, his smilegrowing wider when he speaks. “The one over in Vegas? Theypremiered Far - “

“FarCry, yeah!” Michael says at the same time. “So, cosplayer?”

Ryanlifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug.

“Myfriend’s more into it than me,” he says. “At least, she putsway more effort in. The glitter was for her Overwatch day.”

“Whatwas yours?”

“Booker.From – Bioshock - “ Ryan grins when Michael starts eagerlynodding along, leaning forward on his elbows.

“Well,you gotta show me pictures now,” he says.

“I– eh, they’re not great,”Ryan says, pulling out his phone nonetheless. “Although Meg did doa pretty great Elizabeth.” He leans in a little to whisperdramatically as he opens his phone. “The photographer, however, alittle overpriced,I think.”

“Aw,dude, I know photography people!” Michael exclaims, hunching overRyan’s phone when he brings up the photos to show him. “Oh, thoseare good, yeah, shereally is a great Elizabeth.” He glances up at Ryan a little slyly.“And you’re a great Booker.”

Ryanclears his throat and flushes the faintest pink, murmuring his thanksas Michael zooms in on details.

“Didyou make the costumes?” He asks.

“Ah,no, that’s more Meg’s deal.”

“Dude,listen, next time you need a photographer, hit me up, I know a fewpeople,” Michael says, turning the phone back around. “I mean,Gavin’s all over that shit.”

“GavinDipshit Free?”

“Theone and only.”

Michaelbreaks into friendly laughter and Ryan shares it, pocketing his phoneand shifting a little in his seat.

“Hey,uh, listen, let me get you coffee and you can tell me more about yourcrushed snowglobes?” Ryan asks, something hesitant in his tone.

“Yeah,yeah, that’d be – great,” Michael says, and Ryan’s pleasedlittle smile is incrediblyendearing. God, it’s only been half an hour and Michael’s alreadythoroughly impressed with the man.

“Hey,wait,” Michael says, catching Ryan’s arm before he walks past. “Idon’t know your last name.”

“Haywood,”Ryan says, turning to shake Michael’s hand again. “Ryan Haywood.”

“Jones.Michael Jones,” Michaelreplies, clasping his hand to Ryan’s and grinning at the littlefirm shake Ryan gives.

– 

“Ithought you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow,” Ryansays as he pulls his bag off the carousel – checks the tag andshows Michael to prove it.

“Eh,there was a snowstorm comin’,” Michael says, shoving his hands inhis pockets and shivering a little in the chill of the airport.“Bumped all our flights either earlier or later. Figured I’drather lose a day on hotel fees than getting stuck in Jersey foranother week.”

Ryanhums in agreement and pushes his beanie up out of his eyes, pullingup the handleon his suitcase to lean against it as he waits with Michael.

“Convention?”Michael asks. Ryan nods.

“Meetanyone interesting?” Michael teases, has done ever since he foundout Ryan has a penchant – ormore of a habit - ofaccidentally flirtingwith people.

“…notthere,” Ryan says, giving him a strange glance. Michaelignores the little skip in his heartbeat and nods, carefully watchingthe conveyor belt for his bag.

Itrattles up to them and Michael lunges for it, wrestling it off thebelt with exaggerated grunts as Ryan laughs behind him, steadying himwith a hand on his shoulder asMichael yanks the handleup.

They’reonly barely out of customs when something jumps Michael from behind,sending him stumbling forward a few steps and shouting an irritated“Gavin!” when he identifies who exactly is squeaking in his ear.

“Gavin,you fuck, I just got off a plane!” Michael yells, laughing anywaywhen Gavin slides off his back to come around his front, practicallybouncing on his feet in excitement.

“Michaelboi!” He exclaims, fiddling with a slim, wrapped gift in his handsand ecstatically presenting it to Michael. “Happy birthday!”

“It’syour birthday?” Ryan asks as Michael accepts the gift.

“Isthis Ryan? LovelyRyan?” Gavin asks cheekily – Michael hisses out a noand Gavin only grins wider, giving Ryan a quick once-over and holdinghis hand out to shake.

“I’veheard a lot about you,” Gavin says calmly. Michael glares at him.

Heknows too much. Michael’s going to have to snap his neck.

“Anyway,boi, didn’t want you to miss out on your birthday!” Gavin says.Michael smiles and tears openthe paper – and his jaw drops open, much to Gavin’s cleardelight.

“Holyshit, Gav!” Hebreathes, ripping the rest of the paper away and stuffing itcarelessly into his pocket as he flips over the copy of Far Cry, thenew one that came out only a month ago, just before he met Ryan. “Ican’t believe you got this for me!”

“Yeah,well, Jeremy can’t, either,” Gavin replies, tapping the cover.“It’s from him as well, but only if you let him play with you.”

“JesusChrist, thanks, Gavin,” Michael says, staring at the cover indisbelief. “…feel kinda bad for ruining your snowglobes now.”

“Nah,it’s fine! They were top! Worked great in the hammer smashin’video.”

“The– hammer…smashing?” Ryan asks, and Gavin turns to tell him allabout his slo-mo channel andMichael drools over the game.

Ryanends up sharing their taxi home, deep in a playful argument withGavin that only gets more ridiculous the longer the night goes on.

– 

“’ello?”

“Ryan?”

“Michael,”Ryan says cheerfully, something rustling in his background. “What’sup?”

“I– think I have something of yours,” Michael says, slowly turningthe envelope over in his hand. “It’sa – con ticket?”

“Nope,that’s yours,” Ryan says. He briefly pulls the phone away tocroon something to his dog.

“Mine?”

“Meghad an extra,” Ryan says lightly. “Said I could give it towhoever I wanted.”

“Areyou – serious?” Michael asks. Ryan goes silent for a moment.

“Thoughtit would be a good first date,” Ryan says. “If you – wanted itto be that. We can just go as friends, it’s okay - “

“Thecoffee wasn’t our first?” Michael jokes, his heart squeezing upin his chest and Ryan’s bright, happy laugh doesn’t help.

“Seconddate, then,” Ryan concedes. “Youin?”

“I– yeah, yeah, I’m in.”

– 

Michaelcurses loudly when he reads the tag on the bag he picked up andglances sadly back at the customs gate, at the strict security guardskeeping a rigid eye on the people. Ryan’sstill in the air right now, a fuck-up with the seating chart andoverbooking meaning he got the next flight but his luggage got thisone – and Michael’s a tired, travel-weary idiot who forgot tocheck the tag.

Atleast this time it’s not as bad – Ryan should be over in a fewhours, but until then Michael’s stuck with his stuff inan unfamiliar hotel in an unfamiliar city with no more clothes thanthe ones on his back.

Michael’sphone rings hours later, while he’s flipping carelessly through TVchannels and seriouslyconsidering raiding the con snacks he knows Ryan has in his bag.

“Hey,”he says, putting it on speakerphone and muting the TV.

“Propertyof Michael Jones,” Ryan reads out. “Austin, Texas.”

“Yeah,shut up, okay, so I got the wrong bag,” Michael grumbles. Ryanlaughs and car horns honk behind him.

“Youshould really be more careful about this,” Ryan teases. “Or get adifferent bag.”

“Youget a different bag!”

– 

Michael’scostume is only loosely a cosplay, some scraps he put together tomake a semi-decent modern Link sort of thing – Ryan assures himit’s plenty fine, but when Michael sees Meg’s Zelda heimmediately realises he’s way out of his depth.

Still,he walks into that damn convention centre with a BJ Blazkowicz Ryanon his right and an Ocarina Zelda on his left, and determinednot to fuck up their costumes somehow.

It’samazing. It’s goddamn amazing and Ryan and Meg hit up all the gamebooths with him and the overpriced stalls – they split up for a fewpanels, Meg finds her other friends and splits for lunch while Ryanleads Michael outside to get some air and refuel, pulling snacks outof his hefty jacket with a grin and setting his guns aside to pullout some bottles of water.

“Ohgod thank you,”Michael gasps, cracking one open and downing half of it in one go asRyan chuckles beside him, tearing open the fruit snacks and tippingthem into his mouth without touching his grimed-up gloves.

Theyconverse quietly against the warm railing, basking in the sun andsharing snacks as they laugh and talk – at one point Michael inchescloser and Ryan twists a little to face him better and Michael’sheart does backflipswhen Ryan smiles at him.

“What’veyou got planned next, big guy?” Michael asks, a bottle danglingfrom his fingers as Ryan shrugs and looks him over.

“Inthe next hour or in the next minute?” He asks.

“Youplan to the minute?”

“Somethings.” Ryan’s eyes drop to Michael’s lips and – oh– oh, that’s whathe means. Michael nervously licks his lips and Ryan’s cheeks flushthat familiar faint pink again when Michael steps even closer, barelyany space between them.

“Sowhat is your plan for the next minute?” Michael asks, tilting hishead.

Inresponse, Ryan simply cups his jaw and leans in for a gentle kiss,softly pressing their lips together and then a little harder whenMichael sighs against him, butterflies dancing in his chest at thesimple, electric touchof Ryan’s mouth.

Ryanhums contentedly and Michael places a hand on his neck to encouragehim closer, captivated by theslow way Ryan sinks into him, the easy way his lips move andMichael’s just aboutto open his mouth -

Acamera shutter goes off and startles them into each other, Ryan’sforehead bashing against Michael’s and Michael’s nose rubbed inthe makeupped grime on Ryan’s cheek.

Michaelsprings apart to snap at the assholephotographer and finds it none other than hisasshole photographer, with that stupid happy grin and that stupidexpensive camera and –

“Gavinwhat the fuck are you doing here?!”

“Meginvited me,” he says simply, tongue poking out between his lips.

“Didyou know about this?” Michael asks, whirling on an awfullysheepish Ryan.

“Maybe,”he allows. “He was –going to take pictures later, for us.”

Michaelsquints at him.

“Ididn’t know he’d do this!”Ryan protests, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“It’sa good photo, though,” Gavin adds, stepping forward to showMichael. “’S sweet.”

“Youasshole,” Michaelmutters, grabbing the camera to turn the screen towards him. Fuck,it is a good photo.Fuck Gavin and his fuckingamazing photography skills.

“Asshole,”Michael murmurs again, more reluctantly, and Ryan peers over hisshoulder to study the picture.

“It’sgood,” Ryan says, glancing up at Gavin. “Great shot.”

“Thanks,Ryan,” Gavin chirps, grinningsmugly at Michael. “See? He’snice.”

“HeyRyan, stop encouraging dipshit.”

“Oi!”

– 

“Hey.”

“Hey,what’s up?”

“Eh,nothing much, just callin’. How’reyou?”

“Yeah,yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for Friday, by the way, it was really fun.”

“Yeah,it was for – me, too. Thanks for letting me stay over.”

“I,uh – of course. Yeah.”

“SorryI stole your shirt.”

“Bringit back next time and we’re even.”

“…justbring it back?”

“Wearit.”

“Thatsounds like the Ryan I know.” A pause. “Oh, yeah, actually, I didcall to say something.”

“Hm?”

“Igot a new bag.”

“I– really?”

“Yeah,it’s bright fuckin’ red, can’t be missed.”

“I,uh, I got a new one, too.”

“Ohyeah? What colour?”

“…red.”

“Ryan.”

“No,wait, wait – what brand is yours?”

“It’sAL, it’s the, uh, the AL All-day large - “

“ -large compartment storage case?”

“Michael?”

“…”

“Michael?”

“Areyou telling me we got the same fucking bag,Ryan goddamn Haywood?!”

“Greatminds think alike?”

“Thesame fucking bag?!”

[zaney-hacknslash]

Hakkai’s Birthday

           Skeptically, I looked at him. “I think this may be a bad idea.”

           Looking more mischievous than usual, Gojyo grinned back at me. “Why? It’s your birthday.”

           “Yes, but consider what happened to you on my last birthday.”

           With a short pause, he rubbed the back of his neck and then admitted, sheepishly, “I don’t remember.”

           “That’s no surprise.” I, of course, remembered clearly, but I decided to exclude some of the messier details, and said, “You drank your weight in hard alcohol, threw up nearly twice that amount—somehow—and passed out in the back yard.”

           “Yeah, because it was your birthday.”

           It bothered me that what I’d just said didn’t bother him in the slightest, so I shook my head, wonderingly, and said, “All I’m saying is that I would much prefer a quiet evening to myself, and perhaps some sake and cards, later, at a more appropriate hour. It’s only just five, you know.”

           Gojyo frowned. “That’s so boring though.”

           “To you, perhaps. To me, it sounds just right.”

           “C’mon, Hakkai, be nice—it’s your birthday.”

           I raised an eyebrow. “So you keep reminding me. Pray tell though, why do I have to be nice to you on my birthday? I should think it would be the other way around.”

           Gojyo shrugged and took a quick drag off his cigarette. “I just mean I don’t wanna fight with you about what happened last year anymore.”

           “Yes,” I smiled. “Losing gets quite tedious, doesn’t it?” I hoped he really would let the issue lie now. Every year he saw fit to harass me on my birthday, ignoring the fact that I’d rather keep to myself. I supposed he failed to consider that, once, I’d had a twin, and she’d been everything to me, and that I’d lost her. How could I possibly enjoy anything even resembling a celebration? Particularly when his way of celebrating was so distasteful to me.

           Trying to sound apologetic, I added, just so he’d really understand, “I’m sorry, it’s just that I’d rather not spend my evening watching you get hammered and then babysitting you through the rest of the night.”

           His otherwise perpetual grin melted at once into a scowl. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

           “Well, it’s just that…if we start drinking now, I’m sure I’ll be carrying you to bed around midnight.” That would be the least of it, I knew. I’d also be holding his hair back while he was sick, and I expected I’d be cleaning up vomit at some point, and frankly I didn’t want to indulge his drunken prattle either, nor tolerate his incessant complaining the following afternoon. I couldn’t even guess how many times I’d have to pick him up off the floor.

           However, I kept those thoughts to myself.

           Just as quickly as it came, the scowl was gone, and the grin was back. “Not if you’re hammed too.”

           “Gojyo,” I sighed, losing patience. “For two years now, you’ve done everything you could think of to get me drunk on my birthday, and for two years you’ve failed. Isn’t that enough?”

           His eyes gleamed with sudden and rather disquieting triumph. “This year’s different, Hakkai. ’Cause I got you a damn sweet birthday present.” And then, with a flourish, he produced a large, green bottle from inside his jacket, and thrust it toward me. “Tah-dah.”

           Reluctantly, I took it and looked it over. “Absinthe Verte.” I sighed and shut my eyes for a long moment. “Please tell me this is a joke.”

           “Nope. Happy birthday!”

           I opened my eyes again to give him an equally long, disapproving look. “Do you have any idea what this even is?”

           “Some western, import thing, right? Cost me an arm and a leg. Check it out though—I’ve heard it’s bad ass: seventy-five percent alcohol. I heard it makes you hallucinate, and all kinds of crazy shit—it’s gotta get even you fucked up.”

           It was very difficult now to keep my frustration to myself, and I knew that meant I absolutely had to remain calm. Still, I rubbed my forehead wearily. Of all the idiotic…

           Forcing a smile to my face, I reminded him, “Oh, but I was so looking forward to the new rice cooker and gardening tools I requested. Weeks ago. When you came hounding me about what I wanted.”

           “What, you scared you might actually get drunk?”

           I hesitated to look the bottle over again. It seemed common enough, with its French label and its thick glass. The graphic of a naked fairy woman winked back at me, simultaneously coquettish and risqué. Still, it had been rumored to drive men mad, back in the day, and I couldn’t deny its potency.

           “Not at all.” I handed it back to him, abruptly, and I could feel the smile threatening to fall jaggedly from my face and collapse into a frown. “I just think this is more along the lines of something you would want for your birthday. So you may as well keep it, and save me some outrageous amount of money.”

           Gojyo looked a bit put-off at being so utterly denied. “Oh, come on, really? You’re not even going to have like a shot of it.”

           “You don’t shotgun absinthe, Gojyo, and no, frankly, I’m not interested.” I said the words, but I couldn’t deny I was curious. If nothing else, it was something I’d never tried before.

           “That really hurts, man. I spent a lot of money on this.”

           I shot him a sharp look. “Don’t try to guilt trip me. It’s not my fault you didn’t listen, or that you spent too much money.”

           Looking half-way to devilish, he smiled again. “Admit it, you’re scared. You haven’t been drunk in years, and you don’t remember what it’s like, so you’re freaked out to try this really cool, foreign, green shit.”

           At that, I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. Here I’d always thought that someone who purchased a bottle of absinthe would be cultured and sophisticated.

           “Well, you don’t want any. Fine. I get it. I’d be scared too if I was turning twenty-two and I hadn’t been drunk in years. But I’m not wasting my money.”

           My stomach tightened with outrage at the sound of his obnoxious tone. That was the voice he always used when he wanted to peer-pressure me, and I hated it, because I could never quite predict whether I was going to give in before he did or not.

           For one thing, in the face of my birthday, with memories of Kanan lingering in my head more tangible than usual, I couldn’t deny abandoning myself to the recklessness of intoxication sounded inviting.

           That was certainly a bad reason to get drunk, so I did my best to stay strong, and I tried not to sound too irritated. “I’m not scared, Gojyo. Not for myself, at least. Though I am a bit nervous about what the notorious green fairy might do to you.”

           “Let’s find out.” Before I could think to stop him, he was popping the bottle open, tilting it back to take a swig.

           My eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. “Gojyo.”

           He made a face. “Tastes weird.”

           “You aren’t supposed to drink it like that.”

           “Who says?”

           “No one. Just culture.”

           “You can though, right?”            “You can, yes. But it’s not exactly the right way.”

           He shrugged. “There’s no wrong way to get smashed. C’mon, man.” He offered me the bottle. “Just live a little.”

           I glared at the bottle, and the flirtatious fairy simpered back at me. Her eyes were green, like Kanan’s.

           Sighing, I took the bottle from his hand and sat down at the table. “I need water, sugar, and an absinthe spoon. Not to mention an appropriate glass.”

           From the grin on his face I could tell he was trying very hard not to gloat about his victory. “What’dya wanna wreck it for?”

           “That’s the right way to drink it.”

           “Yeah, if you’re Earnest Hemmingway, or whoever.”

           I raised an eyebrow at him in surprise.

           His shot up as well. “What?”

           “I’m surprised you know who that is.”

           Gojyo laughed, “I don’t!”

           Sighing, I turned the bottle around on the table in front of me, trying to make sense of the French words, but that wasn’t a language I was familiar with, and I could only make out a handful of them. Of course, the recipe for Hemmingway’s notorious death in the afternoon was on there, but we had no champagne either.

           “C’mon, Hakkai.” Gojyo slammed me on the shoulder. “Let’s get the knot out of your panties—just for tonight.”

           “On your birthday,” I muttered, “we’re going to do what I want to do.”

           And then I tossed the bottle back.

             I stared up at the clock, and its blurry face stared back at me. I blinked, trying to make sense of the time. Next, I stared down at the absinthe bottle, where the green fairy seemed to dance, even though I had thought Gojyo tore the label off long ago. When I studied the fridge, I saw it tacked up there, swaying in a graceful rhythm. Our absinthe was more than halfway gone, but I couldn’t account for where it had disappeared to. I looked up at the clock again, watching the minute hand go around, seemingly backwards.

           “Dude,” Gojyo called. “What’s up?”

           Slowly, I turned to him. There were two of him now, and I didn’t know if I liked that. Two Gojyo’s meant twice as much mess and twice as much chaos.

           “Is it really almost eleven?”

           He twisted around in his chair to face the clock as well. “Tha’s what it says. Hey, you were tellin’ me somethin’.”

           “Where on earth did the last six hours go?” I gazed down at the bottle between us again, scowling at the green fairy, and she beamed, as if she knew where the time and the drink had gotten to, but wouldn’t tell. I still couldn’t understand how she could be in two places at once.

           “We’ve been sittin’ right here.” Gojyo leaned back in his chair, blowing smoke rings. “What were you tellin’ me?”

           “Oh…” I did my best to wade back through my thoughts, but they seemed hazier than usual. “I was telling you about my eighteenth birthday, when Kanan and I went to the… Where did we go?”

           “Some museum.”

           “Ah, yes, the museum.” When I thought back, I could picture that day easily—late September, and the leaves were changing, blowing across the streets of the city. There’d been a distinct scent of fall in the air, and the wind had whipped Kanan’s loose hair. She’d worn her prettiest dress, and I could almost remember the warmth of her hand in mine. “It was the science museum, if I’m not mistaken. We had lunch in the food court there, and then we spent the whole day getting lost in the exhibits. I remember she really enjoyed the animal displays…especially the foreign ones, like the African ones. Do you know how dangerous the hippopotamus is? It’s possibly the most dangerous animal in the world. Fortunately, we don’t have them here. Of course we have plenty of creatures that are terribly dangerous as well. Animals are strange. You know, I think the ones who don’t kill for food—take the moose, for example—are particularly deadly, because when they take it into their head to attack you it isn’t because they’re hungry. A hungry predator might let you go simply because it’s recently made a separate kill, but things like moose and hippos must have some entirely different reason for attacking human beings. It seems they’re simply irascible. If you encounter one, you have such a likelihood of being killed for no particular reason. And on the other hand, there are so many animals that are willing to cooperate with man—such as the Indian elephant, or the camels of the Sahara, and God I’m talking a lot, aren’t I? Why am I telling you any of this?”

           Gojyo burst out laughing. He laughed so hard I worried he’d fall out of his chair. “Damn, dude, I don’ remember! I think I asked ya what your best birthday ever was.”

           “Oh, that’s right. Well, in any case, it was the day at the museum with Kanan. She treated me, of course—she was quite a lady when it came to things like that—she even paid for my lunch and for ice cream from the stand outside. She was a true lady.”

           Picturing Kanan standing out in front of the marvelous museum, indelicately licking a strawberry ice cream cone while the wind tossed her hair and skirt around, made my small heart ache unbearably. I downed another large gulp of absinthe and then blinked at Gojyo. “What about you?”

           “Me?” he echoed, sounding caught off guard.

           “Yes. What was the best birthday you ever had?”

           He chuckled, starting a new cigarette. “Hakkai, ya don’ even wanna know ‘bout that. There’s a ton of sex in that story.”

           “And that’s what made it the best? Obscene amounts of sex?”

           “Unprotected sex,” he added, smirking at me.

           “That’s gross,” I decided, taking another swig of absinthe. It really did taste terrible. I looked around, not for the first time, trying to think of some way to improvise the sugar water I would need to make it right. “This is terrible, don’t you agree? This must be one of the top five most disgusting things I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

           Gojyo grinned, leaning closer, eyes gleaming with intoxication and cheekiness. “Tell me what the other four are.”

           “None of them are what you’re thinking of.”

           He fell back at once, laughing harder than ever. “Hakkai! Shit, man, I wasn’t thinkin’ ‘bout dick! Fuck, you’re nasty!”

           “I said that’s not it.” I frowned at him. “You really can’t listen worth a damn.”

           Ignoring me, he took the bottle so he could have a swig of his own. “For not likin’ it, you’re sure drinkin’ a lotta it.”

           “We’re sharing,” I reminded him. “That’s part of sharing. I drink half, and you drink half. Isn’t that the unspoken arrangement here? If I let you drink any more than that I’ll likely be planning your funeral tomorrow. Though, I suppose planning your funeral will become inevitable, eventually. You act as if you’re determined to drink—or smoke—yourself to an early grave. At the rate you’re going, it can’t be too much longer now. That’s not especially fair, by the way, expecting me to plan your funeral after this lifetime of irresponsibility. If you were really my friend you’d at least attempt to restrain yourself, considering I’ve seen more than enough death already.”

           Gojyo shook his head. “You are talkin’ a lot. Is it hittin’ you?”

           “No,” I lied. “I’m bored. We should go somewhere.”

           His eyes widened. “You wanna go somewhere? At ‘leven ‘clock at night?”

           “What difference does the time make?” I wondered, getting up and walking very steadily to the coat closet to retrieve my jacket. “It’s the weekend, and it’s my birthday.”

           “I thought ya wanted ta stay here.”

           “Staying here is useless now that you’ve gotten me… That is, now that I’ve wasted so much time drinking with you. We may as well go out and see what goes on around here on a Friday night.”

           “See?” A grin slipped slowly across his lips. “I knew you’re my age too. I fuckin’ knew it.”

             Side by side, we clipped through the busy town, surrounded by people—old and young—bustling down the streets, chattering and laughing. Lights flashed and music blared, but I spent most of the walk paying close attention to each and every step I took so I wouldn’t as much as stumble, while Gojyo half-swaggered half-staggered next to me, and by the time I started to notice our surroundings again we’d reached downtown, where the noise and excitement was at its peak.

           “No fighting,” I told Gojyo. “One thing I will absolutely not do on my birthday is break up a fist fight between you and some drunkard—not like last year. Last year, it seemed I was fishing you out of a fight every five minutes. I’m not doing that again. I will stand by and watch as you get your ass handed to you if I must, and I’ll even drag you to the emergency room if I have to, but I’m not stepping between you and someone else’s fist when you try to pick up someone else’s woman. I don’t think that’s unreasonable, do you? I wouldn’t expect you to do it on your birthday. All I’m asking for is a little common courtesy.”

           Instead of answering, he wondered, “Wha’s with the swearing? You never swear.’

           It must be because of the absinthe, I realized, but I wasn’t about to tell him that, so I said, “It bothers me that you didn’t answer me.”

           “Duh. ‘Course, not gonna pick fights on your birthday. ‘Kay? Chill, Kai.”

           I studied him. He didn’t seem all that drunk yet. Yes, he was slurring his words and walking unsteadily, and he had that unquestionably altered look in his eyes, but he wasn’t falling-down-stupid like I’d expected him to be, which made me question, again, where all the absinthe had gone. There was only a quarter of it left, and I couldn’t remember if I’d passed it to him even once on our way into town.

           I hoisted it over my head suddenly to inspect the bottom, thinking there could be a leak. “Where is all this devil’s piss going?”

           Gojyo paused to wrinkle his forehead at me in consternation. “Devil’s piss…”

           “The absinthe, Gojyo.”

           “I know. Jus’ not used ta hearin’ you talk like that. Uhh. What’dya mean? Where’s it goin’… We’ve been drinkin’ it.”

           “Yeah, but…” I paused and started over. “Yes, but I mean… You’re drinking it too, aren’t you?”

           “We’re sharing,” he told me, mimicking my voice and tone. “That’s part of sharing. See? I listen.”

           “You’re insufferable,” I grumbled.

           “I’m tryin’ ta drink it, but you’re bogarding it, man. I dunno where it went. I think ya drank a bunch of it.”

           “Here.” I handed it to him suddenly and tucked my hands in my pockets. It was a cold night, and I wished I’d brought my scarf. “I don’t want any more.”

           Dutifully, Gojyo took a sip and wiped his lips on his sleeve.

           Immediately, I snagged it back from him. “Never mind. I just remembered—if you drink too much of this you’ll ruin my birthday, if you don’t just die.”

             We popped into a club of Gojyo’s choosing. I was so intent on keeping myself under control—watching the way I walked and spoke and moved—I didn’t even notice the name of the place, and the next thing I knew I was standing against the bar, shoulder to shoulder with a sea of strangers, the low lights making every face mysterious, and the music was so loud I had to shout at the bartender to order a martini.

           “Dirty!” I screamed at him, as he cupped one hand around his ear. “Very dirty!” I jerked my thumb at Gojyo. “He’s just having water!”

           Gojyo rammed me with his shoulder, very nearly knocking me off-balance, and growled, “Don’t order for me, dick head!”

           I received my martini and turned to look around the club, desperate for a place to sit, but there didn’t appear to be any chairs at all—it was just a massive dance floor, wall to wall with people grinding against one another.

           “Why are we here?” I demanded.

           Gojyo looked coolly at me through the haze of his cigarette smoke. “Ya wanted ta go out!”

           “Yes, but why here? You know I’m not overly fond of places like this!”

           “I was just cold! What did’ja want? The library?”

           I glared at him. “Why are you fighting with me?”

           “I’m not fighting with you, Hakkai! Drink your fuckin’ martini an’ chill the fuck out!”

           Scowling, I sipped my beverage. I didn’t see how I could chill out at all with all the people jostling against me and screaming in my ear, and the god-awful music blaring, and the flashing lights threatening to send me into a seizure, and Gojyo being difficult.

           Gojyo hooked his arm roughly around my neck. “Dude! Quit frownin’ like that! You’re gonna scare all the chicks away!”

           “Is that why we’re here? To pick up women!”

           “No! I’m teasing you! Chill!”

           Before I could make my response, a woman crawled out of the crowd on the other side of me. She took a moment to hitch up her halter, seeing how she was just about to fall out of it—in fact it appeared to be a size too small—and then she smiled up at me with her ice-white lip piercing and glitter-coated eyelashes. “Hey, there!”

           Immediately, Gojyo took his arm off me and turned away, engaging in conversation with the patron next to him, abandoning me in yet another awkward social situation.

           “Hello,” I said back.

           The woman proceeded to dance next to me, bumping her broad hips against me and pressing in close. “What’s you’re name?” she shouted to be heard over the music.

           “Gonou—Hakkai! Cho Hakkai!”

           That was my name. I’d picked it. Where on earth did I even get it? Destruction, that was me.

           “Hakkai.” She giggled. “I like it! Do you wanna dance?”

           I shook my head. “No, thank you!”

           “Oh, c’mon!” She attached herself to my arm, fingers gliding up my bicep to my shoulder. “Don’t be shy! Dance with me!”

           “I don’t dance!”

           “Sure you do!” She slammed lightly against me, kinetic energy forcing me to sway in what was almost a rhythm.

           “No, really! I don’t! It’s flattering,” I forced myself to add. “Very flattering! But no!”

           She pretended to pout, but her eyes were bright with a hidden smile. “Buy me a drink then!”

           “I’m afraid I don’t—”

           A hulking man emerged from the crowd and stood behind her, bald head looking particularly shiny in the odd light. He had a huge septum piercing and his disgustingly long beard was damp from drinking. He glared down at me, booming, “What’re you up to, punk-ass? Tryin’ ta steal my girl?”

           “No, I—”

           She turned to him. “Oh! Don’t be such a Neanderthal! I was just talking to the guy!”

           “Looks like he’s tryin’ ta pick you up!” he growled, moving in closer to tower over me. “Right, you little shit? Pickin’ up on my girl!?”

           “As I said, no, I was just—”

           “Smart ass son’vabitch!” One meaty hand snagged the front of my shirt, dragging me forward, while the other bunched up and cocked back for a strike.

           I dropped my martini, ready to rip his arm off. My reflexes though. They weren’t as quick as—

           His fist smashed into my face, knocking me back, and the next thing I knew I was slumped against Gojyo, staring up into his screaming face.

           “Hakkai!”

           I felt him holding me up, but I couldn’t make myself move for a few seconds. I counted them.

           One, two, three…

           Gojyo’s eyes flashed and turned dark. He heaved me to the side.

           I made a grab at him. His slick jacket slipped through my fingers as he darted forward.

           Disbelievingly, I watched him knock the huge man’s block off. The brute fell over backward and vanished into the crowd, likely out cold on impact. His girlfriend screamed. The crowd gasped, and everyone around us fell silent. Several more men surged forward—they were dressed as bouncers.

           I got shuffled to the side all too easily and lost sight of my roommate in the chaos.

           Someone gripped my arm. A concerned but unfamiliar face stared at me, yelling, “You okay?”

           I pulled loose and stumbled away, looking around as if I was lost. I felt blood trickling down from my nose.

           What the hell just happened?

           My heart started to race. The crowd was in a frenzy, shoving against each other and screaming, running away and moving in closer, rolling back and forth like tides at the ocean, pushing me out and threatening to drag me back in.

           When I finally had my senses again and was just beginning to charge forward to find him, Gojyo burst out from between the wall of people and grabbed me, shoving me ahead of him through the crowd. “Go, go, go!”

           I heard tremulous voices cracking over the general din. Faces appeared in front of me, staring wide-eyed with gaping mouths, and then disappeared again as I was pushed past them.

           Gojyo propelled me through the exit, out into the dark cold, and I nearly tripped down the stairs. Before I could right myself, he snatched the lapel of my jacket and dragged me around the corner, slamming me against the wall.

           Face full of shock and looking pale in the shadows, he stared at me, cigarette busted in half and hanging from his mouth. I felt him grip both my shoulders. “Hey, you okay?”

           Jerking away from him and cupping my bloody nose, I turned my back to him. Blood spattered the front of my sweater. I realized I was shaking and breathing hard, but I couldn’t understand what happened. I’d just watched that half-wit punch me in the face. How?

           A voice bellowed through the quiet, “Don’t come back, if you know what’s good for you! Fucking gutter trash!”

           “Shit.” Gojyo bumped me with his shoulder. “Let’s get outta here.”

           Taking hold of me again, he led me several blocks away, to a less crowded part of the street, and then paused in an alleyway. “Are you okay?” he asked again.

           I stared down at the puddle of blood in my palm. “That…miscreant hit me…”

           “I saw…” He popped a new cigarette in his mouth and chewed anxiously on it. “Are you all right?”

           Suddenly, I turned on him, shouting, “This is all your fault, Gojyo! I told you I didn’t want to be in there!”

           “Hey, I didn’t know somebody was gonna—”

           “No! But you knew I just wanted to stay home tonight! You knew I didn’t want to drink absinthe and go to a club and get hit on by STD-infested women! You know that’s what you want to do—not me! You’re so incredibly selfish!”

           “Hakkai, woah!” He raised his hands. “I—”

           “What’s wrong with you?” I insisted. “You just had to know what I wanted for my birthday! I told you again and again I didn’t want anything from you, but you kept pushing and pushing, and then when the actual event arrives I find you didn’t get me any of the things I asked for! You give me a bottle of alcohol I never wanted and a bloody nose from a bar fight in a club I didn’t care to go into! Why?”

           “Hakkai—”

           “No excuses, dammit! I understand why you don’t listen to me when I ask you to do something—you’re lazy and immature and stubborn—but why do you just ignore me when I ask you not to do something? Is this funny to you?” I wiped my bleeding nose, suddenly feeling like I just wanted to cry. “Did you just want a laugh at my expense?”

           He stared at me for such a long time I felt sure he wouldn’t have anything to say at all. I felt sure he’d simply turn around and walk away without a single word.

           Instead, he gave a heavy sigh, reached up to unwind the bandana from his forehead, and pinched it to my nose, too quickly for me to stop him, and so gently it didn’t even hurt. He tapped his head against mine. “Sorry,” he husked. “I don’t have an ‘cuse, Sunshine. But I’m sorry.”

           Slowly, I took the bandana from him, applying pressure to the bridge of my nose. It smelled like sweat and cigarettes.

           Suddenly, my head felt light, and everything seemed to spin. I leaned back against the cold wall, murmuring, “Why…does everyone think I can get you to do whatever I want? You’re the one who convinces me to do all sorts of things I don’t want to do.”

           “I know,” he said quietly, lowering his eyes in guilt. “I’ma jerk.”

           My best friend, who’d just demolished a man nearly twice his size like a wrecking ball against a building, for my sake, and who’d given me an article of his own clothing to stop the bleeding of my injury, was not a jerk. He was a lot of things, but that wasn’t one of them.

           I threw my arms around him suddenly, pressing my bleeding face to his shoulder, and he held me up easily, while the world spun around and around. My stomach turned, and my knees buckled with weakness, and he’d never seemed so strong before. “I…miss Kanan…” I grated out, eyes stinging. “Even after all this time…”

           Gojyo squeezed me carefully. “I know, Hakkai.”

           “But I…I would never give you up…”

           “Okay. I’d never give ya up either.”

           Biting back tears, I held onto him all the tighter, and he let me.

           After a few moments, he said, “So…this’s what you’re like when you’re drunk…”

           “I’m not drunk,” I argued into his collar. “I’m just a little…”

           “You’re drunk, Hakkai. Ya drank most that bottle by yourself. I mean, you ain’t human an’more, but you ain’t a machine…”

           “I’ve drank much more than that in one sitting.”

           “Yeah. Like I said though, that shit isn’t like normal booze. Give yourself a break for once.”

           “Fine.” I snorted, standing up again, and the spinning worsened. “I’m drunk. You succeeded. I hope that makes you happy.”

           “Not really. I didn’t know it was gonna be sucha shit storm. Shoulda known…” He gave a sad, wry, little smirk. “You’re a damn mess.”

           Slowly, I looked away, watching the people passing on the street. Some of them gave us strange glances, but they continued to shuffle by, as they always had, not caring about the two of us. “I never thought I would be. I thought I’d be so much more than this.”

           “There’s nothin’ wrong with you, okay? It’s just that ev’rybody can only take so much. An’ you took a lot, Hakkai. That’s all it is.”

           I faced him. “How much more can you take?”

           His already serious expression darkened a shade. “Not much, lemme tell ya.”

           “I’ve always assumed I’d be in a padded room if I were you.”

           Gojyo rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t that bad.”

           “It was though. You—”

           “I’m hungry,” he cut in. “Let’s go get breakfast.”

           I let him guide me out onto the road again, absently dabbing at my nose. “It’s not time yet for breakfast.”

           “Nah, but that’s what ya do when you’re drunk—eat breakfast.”

           “That hardly makes sense.”

           All the same, we walked a few blocks to a twenty-four-hour diner, and by the time we reached a booth in the back corner of the building, we were both stumbling rather badly, and I felt sick to my stomach. I rested my spinning head in my hands while the waitress served us coffee, and Gojyo perused the menu.

           “Why did you let me drink so much of that awful stuff by myself?” I demanded quietly.

           Gojyo lit a cigarette and even ashed a few times before answering. “I was tryin’ ta get ya drunk.”

           “That…is so…uncool of you…”

           “Like I said, I di’nt know it was gonna be like this. I just wanted ya ta forget ‘bout it for a coupla hours… All that nasty shit that happened.”

           “How gallant,” I muttered dryly.

           “Sorry. Really. If I knew you were gonna get all ‘gressive—”

           “I’m not aggressive.”

           “’Kai, you’re ‘gressive when you’re sober. Ya just hide it. Ya hide all kindsa shit. If I knew ya were gonna be ‘gressive, an’ moody, an’ sad I wouldnta done it.”

           I glared up at him. There was three of him now. “As you pointed out, I’m like that anyway.”

           Gojyo nodded, still skimming the menu. “I jus din’t know, ‘kay, dude? I wasn’t tryin’ ta…hurt you.”

           Of course I believed that. Gojyo would never try to hurt me intentionally.

           “Well, please don’t do this again. I don’t like feeling this way.”

           His eyes flickered over the menu to meet my gaze. “I won’t,” he said flatly. “Drink your fuckin’ coffee.”

             We ate our meals in relative quiet, and after I had some food in my stomach I did feel a bit better, so we struck out for home. The walk seemed to take twice as long as usual, and I had to try extra hard not to stagger as we went, so we spoke very little on the trip as well.

           Back at the house, the lights were still on. Apparently I was intoxicated enough that I’d neglected to turn them off.

           Inexcusable.

           I dropped onto the couch, face first, trying to collect myself before going to bed. “When does the spinning stop?”

           “Dunno. Whenever.” He sat down on the floor, leaning back against the couch. “You gonna be okay?”

           “Presumably.”

           “I’m really sorry, man. You’ve never been drunk like this before, huh?”

           “Not exactly, no.”

           Gojyo sighed. “Guess I fucked up your birthday—again.”

           “Your intentions weren’t altogether horrible.”

           “Right… Well, no worries. I won’t tell an’body I saw ya drunk. We can just pretend this din’t happen.”

           “That would be nice, Gojyo.”

           We fell silent again. I tried to focus on sleeping. To hell with shambling my way to bed—I was going to sleep right where I was, with my clothes still on, just like he did all the time.

           When I’d nearly dozed off, Gojyo hissed, “Hey, ‘Kai. You ‘wake?”

           “Mmhm.”

           “Can I tell ya something?”

           “Mm. Sure. Why the hell not?”

           “I lied to ya earlier…’bout the best birthday I ever had.”

           “Oh?”

           “Not ‘cause it was the wrong birthday… It was still that one—with all the nasty sex.”

           “I see.”

           “I lied ‘bout the reason.”

           “Ah.”

           “The real reason…” He took another pause, and I detected familiar insecurity in his tone. “Is ‘cause…when I fin’ly dragged my ass home after all that, super fucked up, feelin’ like a pieca shit, you were there. Ya came to find me. Remember?”

           “I remember I made plans to have dinner with you and you broke them. I went out looking for you so I could give you a piece of my mind.”

           Briefly, he chuckled. “Yeah. That. We jus’ met right? Ya din’t know what a fuck job I am yet.”

           “Goj,” I sighed. “You’re not—”

           “It was shitty. An’ t’night’s shitty. I always do shitty stuff. That ain’t the point. The point is, when ya saw how blasted I was ya din’t yell at me for ditchin’ you. Ya took care of me. Ya din’t even make me say sorry. Ya made me feel like I mattered. And…I dunno… Havin’ all that, for the first time ever, meant a lot to me.”

           I opened my eyes finally to look at him, and he half turned his head to look back from the corner of his eye.

           Quietly, he added, “I always wished I could do somethin’ that awesome for you…but I know I can’t.”

           “Gojyo,” I shut my eyes again, putting my arm around his neck. “Shut up. You do that for me all the time.”

[waterlilyvioletfog]

Game of Thrones Season 7 Episode 5: Eastwatch, A Summary, Warning: Full Spoilers. (You didn’t want to be spoiled? Well sorry, KAREN.)

Me: ... If Jaime doesn’t come back I’ll fucking murder you. 

Bronn: *bursts out of the water* 

Jaime: *bursts out of the water* 

Me: Oh thank god. 

Bronn: wHy ThE fUcK DiD yOu ChArGe A dRaGoN?!?!?!? 

Jaime: Because I’m an idiot sandwich with a metric fuckton of PTSD. 

Bronn: NO MORE CHARGING DRAGONS. You’re NOT allowed to die! That fucking dragon isn’t allowed to kill you! You’re not allowed to kill you! YOU ARE HARRY AND I AM VOLDEMORT AND ONLY I CAN KILL YOU. EVER. 

-Meanwhile, Dany has “KILL THE UNBELIEVERS” still on her to-do list- 

Dany: Yo. Ben D. Knee. 

Lannister Soldiers: *still confused as they recover from severe smoke inhalation* 

Drogon: DID MOMMY STUTTER? BEND THE FUCKING KNEE! 

Lannister Soldiers: *get it now* 

Randyll: I made my bed, I’ll lie in it until I die. 

Dany: Fair warning, I will munch on your bones. 

Tyrion: *seriously concerned* Well, I guess you could join the Night’s Watch! 

Randyll: Did I fucking stutter bitch? DANY NOT MY QUEEN 2K17! 

Dickon: No wait! I’m a good son! 

Tyrion: We’ve already exterminated the Freys and the Tyrells this season, we don’t need to kill the Tarlys, too! You’re even more inconsequential! Bend The Knee like a good boy! 

Dickon: DID I FUCKING STUTTER BITCH? I’M A GOOD SOOOOOOONNNNNN. 

Tyrion: I hate you so much. 

Dany: *murders Dickon and Ranyll via Drogon, though admittedly she looks very sad and disappointed in them while doing it, so wtf are Tyrion and Varys worried about? Jeez. Jon Snow wields a sword. Gendry Waters wields a war hammer. Dany wields her dragons. Fact. What, did you think she was gonna pull out Longclaw and use it on them? Nah bitch. Nah.* 

-Meanwhile, in King’s Landing- 

Jaime: We’re fucked. 

Cersei: WE HAVE GOLD THO! 

Jaime: WE’RE FUCKED. THIS GIRL HAS DRAGONS. 

Cersei: Well, Dany won’t just let us go. Tyrion might try and get a redemption arc for murdering Joffrey and dad, but- 

Jaime: Olenna Tyrell told me that she murdered Joff, not Tyrion. 

Cersei: ... Tyrion ... did ... not ... kill ... Joffrey? DOES NOT COMPUTE. 

Jaime: It computes, darling. It computes. 

Jaime: Also, WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE. 

Cersei: THEN I’LL GO DOWN SCREAMING AND FIGHTING BECAUSE I’M CERSEI LANNISTER AND I AM EXTRA. 

-Meanwhile, there is ever more fresh hot goss at Dragonstone High- 

Jon: *brooding on the edge of a cliff, cape flapping in the wind, looking sexier as a sad-faced zombie than most people do in their entire lives* 

Drogon: HAI. MOMMY SAYS THAT YOU’RE MY NEW DAD. WE SHOULD PROBABLY HAVE SOME FATHER-SON BONDING TIME.

Jon: *pats Drogon’s head softly and probably offers to take him to a Mets game* 

Drogon: *purring* *thinking* *oh hai targaryen, you can pet me, it’s okay*

Dany: I am both bewildered and extremely aroused.  

Dany: WELL, you passed the kids test. 

Dany: Also, are you a zombie-

Jorah: HAI HONEY I’M HOME, I CAME BACK, DON’T YOU LO- 

Jon: Who the fuck is this bitch? 

Dany: Jorah! *hugs for her sweet bear/ bro friend, who is, btw, like three times her age in the books just as a gentle reminder* 

Jorah: DANY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *hugs his WIFEY, who is, btw, like a third of his age in the books just as another gentle reminder* 

Jon: wHaT tHe FuCk iS hApPeNiNg?!?!?!?!?!? 

-Meanwhile, Bran has to do SOMETHING this episode- 

Bran: *wargs into like a bajillion ravens so we can have some TRULY gorgeous shots this episode* 

Night King: HAAAIIIII BITCHES I’M ON THE WAYYYYY!!!!!! 

Bran: Oh fuck. 

Bran: GUYS WE HAVE A PROBLEM. 

-Meanwhile, we didn’t see Sam last episode so time for Citadel drama!- 

Maesters: *refuse to believe in shit people keep telling them is real which they have no reason to believe is real* 

Sam: UGH! Stupid maesters! LISTEN TO WHAT WE’RE TELLING YOU. 

Maesters: Sam, we’re skeptics, we’re not going to listen, don’t be stupid. 

Sam: I HATE YOU ALL. 

Maesters: Well that seems a tad unreasonable. 

-Meanwhile, there is ever more drama at Dragonstone- 

Tyrion: *trying to rationalize his behavior* 

Varys: Like, I know dragons are her thing and “FIRE AND BLOOD” is also her thing but like I didn’t think she meant it literally. Also, stop trying to rationalize your behavior, it makes you sound stupid.  

Tyrion: Well, at least she’s not as bad as her dad. 

Tyrion: ... So what’s in the raven. 

Varys: It’s a sealed scroll for the KitN. 

Tyrion: ... And? 

Varys: Fair point. It says the world’s going to end. 

Jon: MY SIBLINGS ARE ALIVE, YES. Also we’re all gonna die. 

Jon: *turns to Dany* Bitch, I’m going home. 

Dany: BUT YOU DON’T HAVE ENOUGH MEN! *internally screaming STAY STAY STAY* 

Jon: So give me some. 

Dany: Can’t do that. Cersei. 

Tyrion: Well, if we were to prove it to her she’d come north. We capture a wight, we can bring it south and show it to her. I can talk to Jaime, he can talk to Cersei, and boom! We have our proof. Davos can row me into KL. We just need someone to deal with the wildlings and acquire a wight.

Jorah: I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE. *screaming internally KHAAAALLLLLEEEESSSSIIIIIIII* 

Jon: *protective older brother instincts flair* *cockblocking instincts flair* The wildlings will never listen to you I WILL GO YES. 

Dany: YOU CAN’T GO, I’M HOLDING YOU HOSTAGE. *STAY STAY STAY*

Jon: Fuck you, I’m a king. *gives another inspiring speech about trusting strangers that makes Dany look REALLY small actually* I’M GOING.  

Dany: I hate you. But like, I also love you. 

-Meanwhile, in Winterfell, the showrunners are DICKS-  

Lords: WHERE IS JON. JON’S NOT HERE. CLEARLY WE WERE WRONG ABOUT ELECTING HIM AS LEADER. YOU SHOULD BE LEADER. 

Sansa: NERP. JON’S KING. DAT’S DA WAY IT IS. IN THIS HOUSE WE RESPECT JON SNOW. (except she said it politely and in such a way that contextless Arya and anti-Sansas can bitch about her plotting) 

Sansa: I did warn Jon. *sighs*

Arya: Those sons of bitches, plotting against Jon! We should cut off their heads! Not sit and listen politely! 

Sansa: Watching this show for six seasons has taught me one thing: beheading people who give you support because they dissented is a REALLY FUCKING BAD IDEA. Being polite to everyone means that nobody hates you and you don’t get red-wedding-ed. 

Arya: AHAH! I KNEW IT! You’re plotting against Jon, too! 

Sansa: Oh for Christ’s sake. Just go away and let me nurse my chamomile tea as I do actual work to help defend the North. 

-Meanwhile we have a quick trip to KL before we can go on our wight hunt- 

Jaime: *being a reasonable general* 

Bronn: Nope. You have too much family drama for any of that right now. 

Tyrion: Hi Jaime. Long time no see. 

Bronn: ... gonna step slowly away now... 

Jaime: You killed Dad. I hate you. 

Tyrion: That’s reasonable. But we do need to talk. Dany’s gonna win the war and you know it. 

Jaime: Cersei will never kneel. 

Tyrion: She doesn’t need to. We can have an armistice [you who don’t know what that is, it’s a cease-fire. It means I don’t like you and you don’t like me but we’re not allowed to fight because of reasons.] as long as she listens to us and doesn’t murder Jon.

Gendry: *exactly where we met him. huh. would’ve thought he was still rowing* 

Davos: Hi. 

Gendry: HAI DAVOS. YOU’RE HERE FOR A REASON. SIGN ME THE FUCK UP. 

Davos: But it’s dangerous- 

Gendry: I’VE BEEN GONE FOR FOUR SEASONS. I’M READY. I AM SOOO DONE WITH KING’S LANDING YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW. I HATE THE LANNISTERS. THEY KILLED DAD. [that’s kinda ooc of you to gaf gendry but ok] THEY TRIED TO KILL ME. 

Davos: Fine. Grab a sword. 

Gendry: Bitch, do I look like a fancy-ass knight to you? I’m a blacksmith, and a Baratheon. I’m using a goddamn hammer. 

Davos: *sighs* Kids these days. So fucking EXTRA. 

Davos: Okay, but don’t tell anyone Robert Baratheon was your dad. 

Trouble: *proceeds to appear in the form of gold cloaks, but Davos pays them off to shut up and then Tyrion turns up so Gendry smashes their brains in and we’re all just like “damn Gendry.”* 

Qyburn and Cersei: *plotting* 

Jaime: Hi. I just talked to Tyrion. 

Cersei: ...okay? 

Jaime: Dany wants an armistice. Because zombies are on the way. And apparently soon they’ll have proof for us. 

Cersei: Huh. Didn’t expect the conversation to be that but okay. 

Jaime: ??? 

Cersei: Oh sweetie. I know everything.  

Jaime: ?!?!?! 

Cersei: I want to talk to her. It’s in our immediate interest to have her leave us alone. But in the meantime, you should know that Imma kill everything in our way. Because I’M PREGNANT, Y’ALL!!! 

Jaime: ... am I the father? 

Cersei: Yup! AND we won’t hide it. 

Jaime: That’s a stupid idea. 

Cersei: DADDY TOLD US TO IGNORE THE BULLIES AND CRUSH OUR ENEMIES TO DUST 

Jaime: Fair point. *hugs Cersei* 

Cersei: *smiles and hugs back* Oh and don’t ever betray me again. 

Jaime: *thinking* *oh that’s riiiight, I fucked a crazy person* 

-Meanwhile, as always, there is drama on Dragonstone- 

Davos: DON’T TELL ANYONE THAT ROBERT BARATHEON WAS YOUR DAD. YOUR NAME IS CLOVIS.YOU’RE A SMITH. YOU’RE JUST HERE TO BE POLITE UNTIL YOU GO BE THE SMITH IN WINTERFELL. 

Gendry: Got it. 

Gendry: HAI JON SNOW. I’M GENDRY WATERZ AND I’M BOBBY B’S ILLEGITIMATE KID AND I’M HERE TO HELP YOU FUCK SHIT UP IN THE FAR NORTH. OUR DADS WERE BROS. WE CAN BE BROS TOO. 

Jon: ... You know how to wield a sword? 

Gendry: Nah. I wield a hammer. And I’m a badass. 

Jon: ... okay. 

Davos: Nobody mind me. All I’ve ever done is be the best person in existence and outlive literally everyone. Like, dude, I’m by far the oldest dude on this show. 

Tyrion: Bye Jorah. I missed you. Not even Grey Worm can glower quite as well as you. Though Jon Snow has you beat in the brooding sadface category. 

Dany: Good bye. 

Jorah: Bye Dany. *kisses her hand and walks away because he sees Jon and knows he has to prove something* 

Jon: Well. At least you won’t have to deal with me anymore if I die. 

Dany: Pls don’t die. I want your babies. 

Jon: ... okay. I’m still not your boyfriend though. *gives the trademarked goodbye which certified badasses give to people they respect* 

-Meanwhile we need to reveal important exposition- 

Gilly: *dithering on about boring ass shit* 

Sam: *annoyed at her dithering on and also at the maesters and also at everything ever in the entire world* 

Gilly: Oh, what does “annulment” mean? 

Sam: It means a divorce. 

Gilly: Huh. Says here that some Prince “Ragger” was given a divorce by the dude who wrote this book so that he could marry someone else in a secret ceremony in Dorne- 

Sam: *EXPLODES IN RAGE at Gilly because he’s annoyed even though she didn’t do anything wrong* THAT’S IT. WE’RE LEAVING. THE MAESTERS ARE TOO STUPID TO BE AROUND. 

Gilly: ... Okay? 

Sam: *steals some extra books* *grabs Gilly* *grabs little Sam* *steals a horse I think????* *leaves because he’s BORED* 

Gilly: You’re not gonna fulfill your life-long dream? 

Sam: NOPE. 

Gilly: Well that’s sad, but we’ll go with it. 

-Meanwhile Arya vs. Littlefinger is on- 

Arya and Littlefinger: *attempt to out-sneak one another* 

Littlefinger: *OUT-SNEAKS ARYA?!?!* 

Me: wtf I hate everyone and everything, stop it. 

-Meanwhile, we have a new location! EASTWATCH-BY-THE-SEA- 

Tormund: We’re fucked. 

Jon: Indeed. 

Thoros, Beric, and Sandor: HAI can we all go on this suicide mission together? 

Suicide Squad: *establish that they all’ve got beef with each other* 

Jon: Well screw that. We’re all alive, which means that we’re all in this together. 

Suicide Squad: *walk out into the snow together, looking so fucking badass and I’m so excited!!!!!!*

[analogscum]

PRIME EVIL (1988, d. Roberta Findlay)

Recently, my dear Scumbags, I watched a horror movie that I simply must tell you about. It deals with a woman who is haunted by dark secrets in her family history. It keeps her from enjoying everyday life, and she only begins to unravel more and more when a tragic death rocks her world. In her time of need, she brusquely pushes away those around her who would provide the help she really needs, and instead turns to spiritualism, only to realize once it’s far too late, and she’s burned all her bridges, that she has been an unwitting pawn in the machinations of a bloodthirsty demonic cult for her entire life, a sacrificial lamb destined for the abbatoir since birth. That movie, of course, is 1988’s Prime Evil. Wait, what movie did YOU think I was talking about?

Prime Evil was the final film to be directed by exploitation auteur Roberta Findlay. Her story is a fascinating one: alongside her husband Michael, she wrote and directed a number of sadomasochistic sexploitation films in the 1960s. Under the tutelage of George Weiss, who produced Ed Wood’s cross-dressing classic Glen or Glenda, the Findlays began spicing up their skin flicks with touches of seedy violence, essentially creating the “roughies” genre, alongside fellow New York City filmmakers Joe Sarno, Joseph P. Mawra, and Lou Campa. By the 1970s, the couple transitioned into making straight up slashers, including the super controversial 1976 feature Snuff, arguably an early example of found footage horror. The next year, Michael Findlay was tragically killed in a horrific helicopter crash on the roof of the Pan Am building. Roberta soldiered on, directing a number of genre classics on her own, including two in 1985 alone: Tenement and The Oracle. Prime Evil, unfortunately, is not a classic. In some regards, it is barely even a movie. Miss Findlay clearly had some lofty ambitions with this film, but attempted to execute them on a grindhouse, run and gun, down and dirty production. Because of this, Prime Evil is a fascinating failure, the type of film that works best when watched with like-minded friends, and preferably at some level of inebriation.

We open in a church in the 1300s, where some good ol’ terrible narration explains that the plague is in full effect, and the priests believe that it is God punishing those who aren’t holy enough, so a few priests were like, fuck this noise, we’re taking our talents to Hades. There’s a meeting with a bunch of priests, and the head priest is like, yo, Father Thomas, what’s with you, man? And Father Thomas is like, didn’t you hear the narration? I’m on Satan’s team now, God is wack. They converse about this, but Roberta Findlay must’ve not liked the dialogue, so the narrator comes back in to drown them out. Then the head priest is like, I’m gonna excommunicate you, Father Thomas, but Father Thomas is like, lol nope, and decapitates this head priest with a giant sword, and it’s awesome. Father Thomas is like, news flash bitches, I’m running this show, and I’m Satan Squad all day, so don’t get in my way. Some dork-ass priest is like oh noooooo! So Father Thomas awkwardly slashes him across the stomach with his sword, and the guy awkwardly falls down some stairs, and even the movie can’t stand to look at this, because it fades to black, mid-fall, like it’s embarrassed.

Cut to: present day Boston, though the film was obviously shot in New York City, to the point where nearly every synopsis I’ve read incorrectly says that the film takes place there. Anyway, an old priest dies while holding a weird amulet. A nun, Sister Angela, goes to the bishop and is like, hey bishop, I think Satanists killed that old priest, and I have a story about my mom being murdered by Satanists in Egypt or something, it’s kinda boring, Liam probably zoned out during this part. And shockingly enough, the bishop is like, yup, we know, it was totally a satanic cult, we just don’t know how to handle this pesky problem. So Sister Angela is like, hey, let me go undercover and infiltrate the cult and do nothing else until the final scene of the movie. The bishop is apprehensive for like five seconds, but then agrees, under the stipulation that Sister Angela must renounce her vows so she can do all sorts of evil cult stuff, which in this movie means smash a plaster crucifix with a hammer and burn her nun uniform. Umm, hail Satan?

Honestly, nothing about this cult makes much sense. They’re still lead by Father Thomas (whose last name, we find out, is Seton. GET IT?!?!) Members of the cult have to sacrifice a family member who is a virgin, and in exchange they get “13 years of immortality,” which is an oxymoron. That is not how immortality works! Why would you agree to some cockamamie plan where you have to renew your immortality clause or whatever every 13 years or start to age again? Is worshiping Satan like going to the DMV? Actually, that kinda makes sense.

So all of a sudden, this blonde lady is making out in a hallway with some dude who looks like Kevin Nealon. But wait, what? I thought Sister Angela was our main character? Is it now this lady? Anyway, she goes in and sees Alex, who is her job recruiter of some kind? Apparently blondie used to be a prostitute before she joined this like, temp agency? So Alex is like, hey, I got you a job interview at 2:30 tomorrow, it’s for a paralegal job…on Wall Street! To which blondie animatedly replies, “Wall Street?!?!” And I died a thousand tiny deaths.

Now we get to see blondie and Kevin Nealon hitchin’ a ride into the bone zone, Findlay style. But oh gosh, they’re interrupted by a homicidal maniac in a handyman’s uniform! Wait, what?! But fortunately, Kevin Nealon knows karate! WAIT, WHAT?!?! So he awkwardly does karate at this schlubby murderer for a minute, but then whoops, he still gets stabbed in the back, contorting his body like a Merce Cunningham dancer. Which is weird. So blondie runs down the stairs, before our killer catches up via a convenient jump cut, and knocks blondie out with some sort of tranquilizer. As he’s carrying her out of the building, some guy passes them and goes, “She have too much to drink?” To which our schlubby murderer replies, in a lifeless monotone, “Yes.” And the guy responds, “Have fun, man!” EWW EWW EWW EWW EWW EWW EWW EWW EWW.

Since every cut to a new scene in this movie feels like violent whiplash, all of a sudden we’re at a gym, and Alex is working out with her friend. This friend is the most obnoxious character I’ve seen in a movie in awhile. She yells all of her lines in an exaggerated Valley Girl accent like a Siobhan Fallon SNL character for no reason, grunts loudly while using the machines, is constantly shoving chips and other junk food down her throat, and only wants to talk about sexytimes. She asks Alex if her boyfriend, Bill, is any good in bed, which really upsets Alex for some reason, and they get into a fight, which ends with the friend yelling the amazing line, “WHY DON’T YA WANNA GET POKED?!?!”

Suddenly, Alex and Bill are in the back of a horse-drawn carriage, riding through the part of Boston that looks just like Central Park. Without being prompted, Alex begins to go into excruciating detail as to why she don’t wanna get poked. Turns out, when she was 6 years old, her father sold her to a ring of child pornographers before mysteriously disappearing, yup, the movie really goes THERE. Clearly and understandably, she’s still deeply traumatized by all of this, which is why she and Bill still haven’t had sex despite the fact that they’re ENGAGED. But then, in basically the next scene, she’s hanging out with her rich lush of a mother, and she’s like, hey, come with me to Grandpa’s Christmas party, and the mom is rightfully like, you mean the father of the man who sold my daughter into sexual slavery as a child? Yeah, no thanks, I never wanna see anyone in that family ever again. GOOD IDEA, LUSH MOM! But Alex is like, oh c’mon, Grandpa is nice.

Plot twist: Grandpa ISN’T nice! In fact, Grandpa is a Satanist, and he’s going to sacrifice Alex at their next ceremony in order to renew that bullshit immortality contract. Apparently last time he offered up his son, Alex’s father, and that’s why he ain’t around no more. But, didn’t it have to be a virgin who was sacrificed? Umm, don’t worry about it. Father Thomas has the amazing line, “You’re being very flippant for a man about to sacrifice his granddaughter.” But Grandpa doesn’t just want to do that, he wants to overthrow Father Thomas and rule the world, or something, basically it’s all talk and nothing ever comes of it.

OK, this is taking forever, because something batshit insane happens every two minutes in this movie, so I’m gonna ramp it up a bit: Alex meets Father Thomas and begins to fall under his Satanic influence, thanks to his handsome eyes and Shatneresque line delivery. This rightfully upsets Bill, but Alex screams in his face every time he brings up how inappropriate this PRIEST acts around her. Dude, Bill, my guy, between the crazy family and the lustful priest and the no sex, why would you marry this woman?! The Satanists basically waterboard Alex’s lush mom with alcohol, which somehow Alex doesn’t hear despite being right next door to it happening. She moves in with Grandpa. Father Thomas makes out with her after the funeral, which, holy shit! Schlubby murderer abducts more ladies, including a hooker whom he basically reverse psychologies into roofying herself (in a scene set to Seinfeld style slap bass, no less!), a wise-cracking teen prostitute character they introduce solely to be abducted, and Alex’s slutty gym rat snack friend. Turns out schlubby murderer is doing all this because he wants to be a part of the Satanic cult, but Father Thomas is like, lol bro you may hang with us, but you’ll never be ONE of us, because you’re a creep and no one likes you. Somehow Bill starts to figure out that Father Thomas is behind all this murdering and Satanic chicanery, and goes to confront him, but whoops, schlubby murderer throws him off a roof. At least we get a pretty good bad dummy shot out of it!

At this point, you may be asking yourself, is there a bumbling police detective in this movie? Well of course there is! I think his name is Dan and he’s got a mustache! He’s investigating the disappearance of blondie from the beginning, and gets wrapped up in all this drama with Alex’s family because of it. Based on one phone conversation with Bill shortly before he’s murderized, he somehow puts together the entire satanic plot, including knowing that it’s going to happen during the winter solstice on December 21st, which, whatever, the movie has to end somehow, right? So Mustache Dan and his partner go to arrest Father Thomas, and during their confrontation, Mustache Dan utters what is actually the best line in the entire movie, a line that puts even “WHY DON’T YA WANNA GET POKED?!” to shame. Get ready for it...

“Cut the crap, fart breath!”

Slow clap for that. Slow clap. Brilliant.

Finally, the sacrificial ceremony can begin! Alex is all loopy under Father Thomas’s sexy spell, everyone has gathered in their finest Sunn O))) robes. Even Satan himself is there, and you guys, Satan in this movie is played by a tiny adorable puppet. It looks like if the baby from Eraserhead had bat wings and was made of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. It is terrible and charming. Father Thomas begins the proceedings by introducing everyone to blondie, slutty gym rat snack friend, and wise-cracking teen prostitute. He’s like, these ladies are the brides of Satan now, so go ahead and show the audience dem titties! Naturally, they oblige. Suddenly, we see Sister Angela standing in the corner, and remember that she’s in the movie. Grandpa is ready to sacrifice Alex, and all the satanists begin to awkwardly grind on each other. Schlubby murderer wants in on some of them libations of the flesh, and grabs Sister Angela. Sister Angela is like nope, I didn’t sign up for THIS shit, and slashes his throat. Then she stabs Grandpa to death, before he can sacrifice Alex. Then, oh my gosh, she stabs the tiny adorable Satan puppet to death! RIP Satan puppet! All of the occultists begin to age rapidly and turn into corpses, like a less impressive version of the climax of The Devil’s Rain. Father Thomas runs up some stairs, yelling “You’ve won this time!” as if he’s a goddamn Scooby-Doo villain. All of the women are safe, and Sister Angela has some dumb line that includes the phrase “prime evil” but who cares.

The movie ends with a real estate agent lady showing a church to some guy, which is not how churches work I don’t think, and we’re supposed to not know who this guy is even though it’s glaringly obvious, and of course it’s Father Thomas, and he’s like, why don’t we check out the basement, mwahahahaha! And then the camera zooms in on him twice, just to really make sure we all get it. But wait, how can you restart the cult if Satan has been stabbed to death? How are you not a rotting pile of bones now that Satan has been stabbed to death? Get outta here with this ending!

Now, I wanna give this movie a fair shake. Yes, it is bonkers. Yes, the dialogue and the acting are both laughable. Yes, the camerawork and the editing are shoddy. Yes, the kills are mostly dull. But as I was making my way through the movie, trying desperately to make heads or tails of the madness unfolding onscreen, I suddenly began to think to myself…did Roberta Findlay secretly make a film about abuse?

Alex, the main character, is defined by the trauma of her childhood. It rules her everyday life, it keeps her from enjoying meaningful friendships and an intimate relationship with her boyfriend. However, despite all of this, she still lets herself be groomed for further abuse by Father Thomas, and remains oblivious to the fact that she is being groomed until it is nearly too late. That really struck me. Was this intentional on Roberta Findlay’s part? Was she trying to make a statement about how women can become complicit in the machinations of their abusers? Would I have thought of this if the film wasn’t directed by a woman? Am I giving Prime Evil too much credit, seeing a feminist message in a blood n’ boobs cheapie? Either way, there’s no denying that, whether it’s amassing an impressive oeuvre of sleazy underground classics, or infiltrating a weirdly bureaucratic Satanic cult, sisters are doing it for themselves.

[thebigcitynightsband]

Bus King/Busking/Night Moves

That’s a photo of me and my ex-gf. I just found it last week in my bag that Jamie brought to me from Burlington, thanks Jamie bro. Happier times, man. We’re still friends but we don’t see each other much. That’s a repeating pattern with me. Me and a gal will break up, declare an intention to stay friends, and then I be their friend while they work hard at vanishing from my life and into the arms of some dude who hates me cuz I’m still her friend. Happened with Jessica, happened with Courtney. Next time I’ll just do the sudden severance. Seems to work for other people.

Well, fuck. I’ve been struggling a little bit lately. Still sober, still pissing in a cup every day. My hours got cut at work for a few weeks but they’re back up to full-time next week, where they’ll remain until mid-December. I’m trying to save my apartment, need to find a roommate to take over the lease, which requires first and last, which I don’t have but I’m trying to acquire somehow.

A few days ago I went busking for the first time in about a year. Queen and University is my corner, northwest side. I like it there because you get a lot of 905ers coming out of Osgoode Station to go explore Queen West, people who don’t ordinarily see buskers, so they’re generous. I can only play for about three hours on an acoustic before my fingers start to hurt too much to play chords, and you average about six bucks an hour. I write a lot of songs that way. “Make It Mine” off the new album was written while busking last year and I came up with a few new ones the other day. It was a good day, actually. I woke up broke and without food and ended the day with a full belly and a pack of cigarettes and an Arizona Iced Tea. I felt content. So I’m gonna go back out there tomorrow. And probably the next day too.

My laptop died and I almost lost the record, but I was able to extract the files after a few days of feeling numb and worried. I really like our upcoming album, the songs have kept me good company over the past year, and the thought of losing the whole damn thing, save for “Fighting Ways” which is finished, and a handful of others, was a little scary. It’s not gone though. Sweet relief. BCN songs are like cockroaches. They find a way. Cue “Long Distance King” in your head as you read that last line...”we’ll find a waaaaay, we’ll fiiind a waaaaay.” Glory days. Before everything went to shit.

Hey, know what’s a great record? Break Up Break Down by Reigning Sound. Listen to the quavering, breathless delivery from Greg Cartwright on this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7fWcZKZR3jg

Another great one off that record is called “Want You,” a really sad, pretty ballad. I’d like to make an album of Memphis ballads some day, in the vein of Break Up Break Down. We’ll call it Fuck Up Fuck Off or something.

I set up my keyboard tonight with a mind to do some overdubs tomorrow. I’ve been avoiding doing keyboard overdubs on the album forever because I’m a terrible keyboard player and it takes a really long time to get a single coherent take and I don’t have the patience that I used to. I finished “Night Needles” from A Steamroller Named Desire in a single evening, and that song has probably the most piano of any BCN song. I doubt I could do the same thing now. I’m older now and runnin against the wind, as Bob Seger would sing. Has sung, whatever. Running Against the Wind. I love that song. “Wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then” is a great line eh? Legend has it Seger wanted to cut that line but the producer told him how great it was, which it is. Oftentimes artists can’t recognize their own greatness. Years ago, when I was sixteen or so, I was trying to put together a set of acoustic covers in my bedroom. I remember doing “Leave It Alone” by Moist, which is pretty embarrassing now, but also “Against the Wind” and an acoustic version of the Smashing Pumpkin’s “Ava Adore,” which I was surprised to find has a very similar chord progression as “Against the Wind.” I mean, those two songs sound nothing alike, yet they’re very alike, chord-wise.

ANYWAY I’m rambling. Just finished an assignment for a client (I do people’s homework for them as a side hustle. Forty bucks here, sixty bucks there, it all goes into the giant hole I dug for myself the past few years.) I owe money to one guy who actually chased me this past January, up near Dovercourt and Hallam. I had to jump a couple fences but I got away. He’ll get paid soon enough. They all do.

I’m working on it man. Pushing against the tide. Runnin against the wind.

One last thing about that Bob Seger song: I’ve always thought that part where he yells “let the cowboys ride!” at the end of the song was stupid. Why couldn’t he have taken that part out? It’s so obvious that he was out of ideas and just mustered up the best open field imagery he could in the moment. Let the cowboys ride? Given the greatness that comes before that line, I can’t dismiss the song, even if it’s not as good as the immortal “Night Moves.”

A quick word about “Night Moves” before I go. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_mRFWQoXq4c I honestly think it’s one of the greatest all-time vocal performances. There are three distinct parts in the song that always give me shivers. The first is that irresistible “summertime summertime” part @ 2:19. The second comes in that great breakdown, when the title changes from a sexual innuendo to a somber, forlorn musing on the passage of time and how time can move slower when you’re bored, faster when you’re absorbed and excited. Ain’t it funny how the night moves...when you just don’t seem to haaaaaaaave as much to lo-o-se. It’s that “have” that always gets me...just the way Seger gives it the perfect amount of witsfulness and gravelly gravity. Fuckin killer. Singing is always a fine balance between technical proficiency and emotional delivery, but on that line Seger’s 99% heart, 1% technique, and it still sounds incredible. To me, at least.

The last part is in the final minor descending refrain @ 5:04, even though it’s just Bob doing a bunch of “ooooohooohoohhhs.” It wouldn’t be as good if that vocal came over the main riff, but it doesn’t. It comes over the same chord progression as the chorus, that sad lilting minor key descent. Every time, man. Every time.

I’ve been trying to cover “Night Moves” since 2007. I don’t think I’ve ever got past the first chorus. I just can’t sell it. Those aren’t my memories, they’re Bob Seger’s. I never existed in the 1950s America he’s singing about in the song, the America of taking your sweetheart to the drive-in, cruising the strip, going to diners and pushing coins into jukeboxes. That wasn’t my adolescence. So it’s a tough one to sing. You have to know when you’re beaten. That’s part of growing up.

I don’t talk to my Dad anymore. He hates my guts and so does his girlfriend. It doesn’t bother me except for when I hear certain songs...songs like “Night Moves” or “Walking On The Moon” by The Police...first time I ever heard my father sing on the way to Owen Sound for a hockey tournament I was playing...it was the chorus, that “no way, chasing your cares away” part, and we had sunflower seeds and that was the night I fell in love with highways and movement and travel and all that Kerouac stuff I’d get obsessed with later, all those fuckin notebooks I filled with eager scrawling about road trips I hadn’t yet taken. I lost all those notebooks somehow, can’t remember maybe I tossed them all on purpose, kind of a year zero event. Too much in those notebooks was lines from existing songs. I remember one time going through an old notebook and seeing “the sea is foaming like a bottle of beer” and thinking I’d written it...nope...it was a Weezer song. I’d just scrawled out that one line hammered one night, drunk at 17, back when it was actually exciting to get drunk and not a sad chore like it later became.

I’m going busking tomorrow. I might not be able to do “Night Moves” but I can bust out “Against the Wind.” I ain’t licked yet. It ain’t over. I’m older now and still runnin against the wind. Let the cowboys ride or whatever.

Edit, PS: That was a really dramatic fuckin post. I’m sorry. For some much-needed levity, here’s a picture of me from last week. Some friends visited while I was in bed, and I came out to say hello still holding my book.  PPS: Hey, know another great Bob Seger song? “Still the Same,” especially those ghostly backing vocals in the second verse. Check it out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HjDpKeiYxOU PPPS: Hey, know another song that has cool ghostly additional instrumental in the second verse? Bruce Springsteen’s “Downbound Train.” It’s not his greatest song and I don’t like Bruce’s overdone “blue collar accent,” the dumb slurring he likes to do in order to sound more like a mechanic making $20 000 a year, but that beautiful synth organ that comes in on the second verse is just heartwrenching, listen for it @ 0:49: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nc_mv46NwT4 The organ has a pretty sweet solo for one-bar starting at 1:21. If I could get that organ tone, I wouldn’t put off doing keyboard overdubs, lemme tell ya son, I tell ya what.