#edit: hysteria is LIT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rantshemlock · 5 years

Photo

you heard it right folks, for the second year in a row i watched

Every Halloween Film

it took around 18 hours. there are eleven movies now after all. next year there will be twelve, and next year i will throw myself into the river thames if i make myself watch Rob Zombie’s Halloween II again.

this time i wrote it out as a journal. it is a mess. i will not edit it. if you read the entire thing you dont get a prize. im very, very tired. i watched eleven movies today. i like five of them.

9:27- I boot up Halloween (1978). I don’t know if this is the movie I’ve seen the most in my life, but I’ve certainly seen it dozens of times, and it never loses its impact. I’ve gotten to the point where I’m reading into micro-expressions on actors’ faces and I don’t know how much any of this was ever intended, but it certainly enhances my own reading of the film. I catch the expression of slight annoyance on Judith’s face when Michael walks into her room; it’s clear she had just no idea this was coming.

9:37- The staging of the opening of Halloween is so like a nightmare, a comparison I keep using this year for the movies I watch, but there’s a sense of being placed in the immediacy of what’s happening with no context and a burden of responsibility that only exists in dreams in the first few opening scenes. You don’t know where you are or what you’re supposed to be doing, but something huge and terrible is happening and the thick, dark shadows combined with the pale white-blue light the film uses makes everything emerge out of the black but never truly divorce itself from the darkness.

The way Loomis talks about Michael like some kind of animal is such a point of fixation for me. He calls Michael ‘it’ and wants ‘it’ to be locked up for life. Maybe it’s just being of a crazy persuasion myself but being the responsibility of a doctor who despises you and refers to you as an untreatable evil doesn’t feel like it would be much help to me. I just don’t think Loomis is a great doctor, is my point.

Laurie’s introduction is such a surge of light in a film that has up until now been shot almost exclusively in darkness. We are shown someone good, normal, happy, but the long, distant shots mean we are not accompanying her on this journey from her perspective; we are following her. Halloween legend suggests Michael doesn’t start stalking Laurie until she approaches the Myers’ house, but it feels like his eyes are lingering on her long before she does that. He casts a long shadow over her life before she even knows he exists.

9:42- The fact the film approaches the idea that it doesn’t make sense Michael would know how to drive a car but doesn’t explain it at all is weirdly funny. Just fuck it man, he can drive.

9:45: I really love the focus on Michael as a physical being. The fact we see him touch someone with his hands, open a car, steer while driving, run his hand over a fence… All of this adds a sense of Michael being tangible that I think is so vital. Michael Myers is a human being, not a demon, and that’s precisely why he is scary. Halloween as always meant to be a movie about the person next door; the fear comes from the fact that something inside your apparently nice, normal neighbourhood is rotten to the core. Laurie herself is incredibly on edge almost from the start; she knows something is wrong. She just hasn’t figured out what yet.

9:57- The gravekeeper’s insistence that something like this happens in every town is probably right on the money. It’s definitely what the film wants you to understand. The apparent nicety of your hometown doesn’t mean it’s free of violence, only that you’re trained not to notice it.

10:01- at exactly 0:33:16 Michael drives by in the background right behind Loomis without Loomis noticing, which is hysterically funny to me. I imagine Michael finds this incredibly funny too.

10:02- Laurie saying she’d “rather go to the dance with Ben Traimor” smacks of being a teenager and gay and saying the name of the first kid you know who’s nice to you because you guess that’s what having a crush is?

10:05- Loomis’ insistence at 0:37:12 that Michael killed and ate a dog raw is incredible to me. Also, I can’t say “Michael raw dog” to my friends without them screaming hysterically at me. They’re fuckers, and I hate them

10:07- From Loomis’ description, he met Michael when Michael was six, already condemned by the doctors as an incurable patient, and stopped treating Michael and turned to insisting he be locked up by the time Michael was fourteen. I think about this a lot.

10:13- “I’m not about to let anything happen to you.” I’m always very touched by Laurie’s immediate assertion of her position as a protector of children.

10:19- Lindsay caring literally only about watching horror movies is incredibly relatable. Truly a hero I can finally understand.

10:28- The house across the street, Lindsay’s house, is almost as haunting as the Myers house itself. It’s certainly a beautiful spectacle, the huge white building with its pillars and vast, blank windows, looming out of the darkness like a moon-lit tombstone. Laurie always seems so lonely when she watches it from the outside.

10:33- The head tilt after Michael pins Bob to the wall is so fucking iconic. It’s the first time it was done, I believe, and while it’s a cliché now it’s still chilling. The way Michael just studies Bob’s corpse, thoughts completely unable to be interpreted. The fact he turfs up in a ghost costume wearing Bob’s glasses moments later is so strange; there’s really no reason he would do that at all, other than the idea he finds it funny. There’s more showmanship to what Michael does than people recognise a lot of the time, I think. It’s like he really wants his work to be seen.

10:43- The shot of Annie on the bed under Judith’s tombstone has to be one of the most beautiful shots in the franchise. The perfect arrangement made just for Laurie to walk in on and experience in one precise way is so meticulous. Michael’s obsessiveness nature manifest in so many ways. The final showdown between Michael and Laurie is only around ten minutes long but it’s an incredible endurance test of a scene; the way Michael grows out of the shadows like he’s being formed within them is still beautiful and terrifying.

I think a really underrated part of this sequence that makes it so frightening is how Laurie is pointedly not alone; the neighbourhood she’s in is populated, and there are people around her. But when she runs to the neighbours for help, screaming and banging on the doors, they choose to ignore her. Seeing something they don’t like in their neighbourhood, they shut it out.

10:50- the closet scene is an incredible piece of filmmaking. There’s really never been anything before or since. I love art with a lot of lines and shadows and seeing the shadow of Michael moments before he breaks through the door is so haunting.

10:52- Laurie desperate and holding the knife in her hands is stunning. I love her.

10:54- I love the brief glimpse of seeing Michael’s face and how it stops him dead in his tracks. The fact he looks so painfully normal is so important too.

10:55- There’s a lot to be said about Loomis confirming Michael is ‘the Boogeyman’. I think Michael’s definite physical humanity in this movie is so important because it contrasts so strongly against the dehumanisation of him by the characters around him. We can only accept there’s a nightmare inside our neighbourhoods if we choose to believe it isn’t natural to it; that someone like that could not form there, but must have been artificially summoned, like a demon. Later movies and the remakes run with this idea; that Michael is somehow an outsider, but I think that defeats the entire point. Michael is part of this world just as much as Laurie is, whether we want to believe it or not.

10:57- I should be starting Halloween II but unfortunately, I have to go to the pharmacy. It might be Halloween, but prescription medications wait for no slasher villain.

11:13- I start watching Halloween II (1981). I like that this movie starts off with Mr Sandman. Horror movies having nursery rhymes in them now is another cliché, but this is such an interesting pick for Michael. I suppose it fits with him being the Boogeyman; he’s a creature of nightmares that slinks into our homes only through dreams. Allegedly.

I like the decision to pick this movie up right after the last one stopped, something that it looks like 2020’s Halloween Kills will be duplicating. It just makes a straightforward kind of sense.

11:21- The hysteria of Loomis screaming “I shot him six times!” over and over is sort of funny and sort of sick. There’s a slight traumatised, obsessive lunacy in Loomis the same as there is in Michael. I like the parallels between them. Loomis raised Michael more than Michael’s own parents did; it makes sense he’d have a lingering affect.

11:23- The shots from Michael’s perspective both in the first movie and this one are great. I love that we’re challenged to be inside his mind. We follow Michael a lot in this early opening. There’s an obvious strategy to his actions in this film, but the randomness of his kills are new. In the first movie, all the kills either get him something or revolve around Laurie. In this one, he kind of just does whatever, a theme that carries on for the rest of the movie.

11:24- A difference I don’t like so much in this movie is that the neighbours are so much more keyed into each other; they pay attention to the screaming and the strange noises, watch out for things that look out of place. I feel like it clashes with the first movie’s themes of isolation simply through your neighbours not caring what happens to you.

11:32- Ben Traimor getting hit by a cop car which crashes into a van and then explodes is one of the funniest fucking things that’s ever happened in this franchise. It is so completely fucking inexplicable and suddenly violent and pointless that it becomes hysterical, which is unfortunate given it’s meant to be a serious scene.

The breakdown scene that follows, where the Sheriff Brackett finds his daughter Annie is dead however is excellent. Charles Cyphers manages to carry the weight of the tragedy pretty effectively for a film that can veer into the goofy too easily, and Dr Loomis’ more measured delivery on his beliefs about Myers is Donald Pleasance at his best.

Halloween II isn’t any longer than Halloween, but the pacing is worse. It lets go of the original’s constant, haunting tension and delivers a sloppier movie as a result, too padded with side characters and people passing through the world with no consequence. The character of Brett is probably one of the most obnoxious characters in the franchise, which is saying a lot.

11:46- Laurie literally not knowing it was Michael Myers who was after her until she’s told is weirdly sad. Like of course she didn’t know, but it’s still sad. She feels very small and vulnerable in this movie, very lost in the big, empty hospital. The fact her parents are inexplicably missing and never shows up makes me crazy. I always wonder if there was a dropped plot thread where Michael was meant to have killed them, or something, because there’s really no explanation.

11:53- The musical stings in this movie are so odd. They’re too bleepy. Don’t know what the hell happened.

11:55- I take the laptop into the kitchen to make a sandwich while I watch the movie. It’s early for lunch but I don’t eat breakfast and I can actively feel my braincells hurting me.

12:01- I’m fascinated by the shots in this of the faint dream Laurie has of seeing a boy in the hospital when she was a child. I can never decide if these are real or not; if she’s unlocking some strange, contextless memory from childhood or just imagining it, instinctively feeling the connection between her and Michael without knowing the truth.

12:04- Bud’s off-screen death is so unsatisfying. Also, so continues the trend of Michael being mistaken for people’s boyfriends. Guess he’s just boyfriend material. Seems unbelievable to me she wouldn’t notice how dirty his hands are, though. And Jesus, the boiling her to death kill is really pretty brutal and graphic, after kills in the first few movies are so relatively restrained.

12:07- Michael writing SAMHAIN on the wall is so over the top. Yeah, I can believe he’s fucking 21 years old. Michael is a performance art student.

12:09- Laurie having Michael’s ability to go deadly still and silent is neat. I like them having links. They’re siblings after all. Runs in Myers family.

12:11- The needle into the side of the head kill is bizarre. Also, the head-tilt here feels cheap. I have already started stealing candy from the bowl intended for trick-or-treaters. In my defence, I could, and I wanted it.

12:20- I like that Laurie has an instinct to run, hide and defend herself. I don’t know if it’s the trauma of surviving or a prenatural sense that Michael is coming for her, but I like it. I don’t like that this entire movie is like twenty minutes longer than it needs to be, or how little Laurie is actually in it.

12:28- The reveal that Laurie is Michael’s sister is so great. It fits so well. I say bullshit to anyone who doesn’t like it. The repetition and obsessiveness of Michael’s behaviour, the strange links and parallels between Laurie and Michael. The fact that the two of them are just as much parts of Haddonfield as each other. It just feels right for them to be related. They are related.

12:31- Laurie crawling on the street begging for help as Loomis ignores her again – this man is truly useless.

12:33- Michael walking directly through a glass door is hysterical.

12:38- Laurie calling Michael’s name, stopping him for a second, blinding him with a shot… This last sequence is fantastic. There’s an enormous amount of pity in seeing Michael blindly stumbling around, swinging his knife, unable to see but still so desperate to kill. The fact she stops him by calling his name is great. The way it almost, for a second, perks some recognition inside him. I think a lot about Michael’s sense of identity. Who does he think he is? I guess we’re never going to find out.

12:43- Halloween III: Season of the Witch time. There’s a trend now of saying this is really the best Halloween movie. I can’t really argue with people’s personal takes, but there’s always a sense to that to me of denying the classic to favour the underdog. People love an underdog. But Halloween III definitely does kind of rule. As much conspiracy thriller as it is horror movie, Halloween III is deeply weird and creative, but packed with great performances and truly memorable special effects, with a killer soundtrack to boot.

1:11- Halloween III is so distinct feeling; it almost feels like a John Carpenter movie, but more like The Thing than Halloween. The film is less aesthetically distinct than Halloween; it takes place over days, in many locations, following the characters as they dig into the conspiracy behind the menacing Silver Shamrock company. It’s well-written and often pretty witty and builds an incredible sense of menace and strangeness. The little company town surrounding the Silver Shamrock factory is bizarre and frightening and although the film can be a little heavy-handed in its depiction of a surveillance state, it certainly builds up atmosphere.

1:20- The scene of the old drunk being taken out by the corporate men in black rules in how suddenly violent and horrible it is. We love a horror movie.

1:26- Some of the digital effects leave a little to be desired but god the practical effects are fucking incredible, and so goddamn memorable and horrible.

1:33- The over-the-top niceness of the Silver Shamrock owner is so pitch-perfect. He’s so nice that it’s obviously, blatantly menacing. What owner of a big corporation like this just gives shit away for free? I mean, come on. I really love the apparent legends that surround him, though, the reputation of being a genius and a great man.

1:48- The complete calmness with which the whole plan gets revealed is so good because you really sense how fucking little threat our heroes pose; no one here thinks they have a chance in hell of stopping Silver Shamrock. The plan in itself is absurd, but like, who cares. It’s fun. The fact Cochran is like, delighted to show off his big ideas because he’s so confident nothing will stop them. And in a way he’s right; at least partially, the heroes do ultimately fail.

2:00- the speech Cochran delivers about the power of Samhain rules. It’s so intense and menacing. Fucking great performance here.

2:07- As much as I like the ending, I think how much it drags on kind of kills some of the tension. Feels like it could have been cut back. The imagery at the very end is fantastic though; it’s so weird. The way this movie embraces strangeness is great; I’ll always take a film that tries to be something different and weird over anything that plays it safe.

2:20- Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers. Jesus we’re starting down a dark path now. Halloween 4 is pretty thoroughly ‘ok’ and even has a couple of good moments but God. The decision to return to just being about Michael Myers after risking and flopping with an anthology movie is fine by me, but Halloween 4 plays it as safe as possible and lacks any of the flair or charm of the original. It just doesn’t have any style, and the forced drama falls short. Jamie Lee Curtis’ absence also feels like a sucking void in the film; it’s too painfully obvious that she was meant to be in this movie, and the fact she isn’t, the fact she died off-screen in some completely nondescript way is so depressing. The filmmakers assumed no one watching gave a shit about Laurie, and that’s so wrong and so disheartening.

2:25- the other doctors hating Loomis really adds to my reading of him as a man on the brink. He must be insufferable to know.

2:30- It really feels so painfully fucking unfair that Laurie would go through so much to just die in a random car accident. Or maybe there’s a kind of poetry in her dying without Michael’s involvement; just part of her own life.

2:36- Donald Pleasance is such a mensch. As stupid as these movies get, he never stopped bringing his fucking A-game and giving them as much respect and gravitas as he could. What a fucking legend.

2:41- Loomis seeing Michael in the diner is so fucking good. Loomis’ quiet pleading, asking Michael not to go back to Haddonfield but just take him instead, the quiet God damn you. Such a great moment. Would be better if Michael didn’t just suddenly teleport out of the room with no explanation, but you can’t have it all.

2:42- Why are later Halloween movies so fond of explosions.

2:43- The kids literally chanting ‘Jamie’s an orphan’ at her is incredible. Not in a good way.

2:50- I fetch the kitten to keep him on my lap because my house is colder than Michael Myers’ black heart.

2:55- Michael looking at Laurie’s photos… Ugh.

2:56- Why do people not just believe Loomis when he says Michael is back. We have this thread every week, comrade.

3:06- Michael just kinda standing around in the background doesn’t really do much in terms of fear. It’s just silly. And his mask looks ridiculous.

3:12- This film is a masterclass in failing to raise tension.

3:23- There’s an attempt to manufacture conflict by having the police clash with a group baying for mob justice, but it all feels completely inert. Nothing in the film carries any weight or drama, and the tension is all derived from using familiar music stings to try and kick your brain into recognising it’s an appropriate place to feel something.

3:25- The kitten bites me, drinks my water, and goes to sit in a box instead. I hate him. The kill where Michael stabs someone through the gut with a shotgun and pins them to the wall is the most flagrantly absurd thing I’ve ever seen. The fact she’s immediately found also really kills the tension. Also why is Michael so fucking strong. He’s so strong.

3:31- I can see the intention with the roof scene, but there’s too much unintentional comedy and Michael is so unthreatening that it doesn’t hold together at all. I especially hate how Michael will just suddenly appear out of nowhere; the first movie utilises his forming out of the shadows so well, but it doesn’t fucking work the same if he’s just there, in a formerly empty and well-lit corridor. He’s not being beamed in by a spaceship.

3:39- God this film is slow. Michael’s hands look absolutely terrifically fucked up. I wish Laurie was here.

3:41- It is insufferable how this film has like ten climaxes. Jamie running to inspect Michael really just doesn’t make any sense. I understand why the filmmakers did it, but it doesn’t make sense. They allude to some connection between the two, but it’s really underplayed and doesn’t pay out well when so much of the movie is her being flatly scared of him. They could have – and should have – acted more on the idea of her finding some sort of familiar connection between them. Famously, the movie ends with the idea Jamie might have somehow inherited Michael’s drive to murder, but the plot thread disappointingly gets dropped after this movie.

3:47- It’s time for Halloween 5: The Revenge of Michael Myers. God, this movie is such a non-entity in the franchise. It doesn’t have 6’s turbulent history or 4’s dramatic ending. It just like, occurs. It occupies space and time. It tries to further the connection between Jamie and Michael, turning it into something psychic and supernatural, and begins to introduce elements of the Cult of Thorne before that takes over as the plot of 6, but none of it is interesting and I also hate the attempt to make Halloween a supernatural franchise.

4:04- The totally legal for sure stream I’m using starts fucking up so everything takes a break while I find somewhere else to watch it.

4:05- Contemplate if life is worth it.

4:06- Film returns. It’s not worth it.

4:27- If screaming at kids was always Dr Loomis’ brand of psychiatry no wonder he couldn’t help Michael.

4:30- You really need to put in more effort than this if you want to make someone being murdered in broad daylight scary. If you’re not putting in the kind of effort Midsommar does to sell the death, you aren’t gonna get there. Halloween as a franchise seems obnoxiously dedicated to doing shit in the middle of the fucking day, for something who built the power of the original scares so much off of the quiet and darkness of the shadows.

4:39- Imagine leaving a traumatised child alone because you want to get laid. Tina’s character is fucking absurd. There are far too much entirely interchangeable faces in this movie screaming incoherently.

4:57- The scene of Michael desperately trying to run Jamie over with a car while the camera swings around hysterically and then the car inexplicably exploding is like peak mid-sequel Halloween. It really exemplifies how much the franchise started relying on noise and flash instead of like, being scary.

5:02- Loomis begging Michael to ‘fight the rage that drives you’ and saying that killing will never drive the anger out is too little too late, ain’t it. I like the idea of an appeal to his emotions but there’s so little emotional weight to the rest of the movie that it fails to maintain a meaningful tone. All the moments where Jamie is communing with Michael are supposed to drive tension I guess, but it mostly is just very silly.

5:09- Every set in this movie look so much like a set. Considering the first movie was just shot in a house I don’t understand why they didn’t do the same. I like the prospect of Loomis trying to talk to Michael, to get through to him emotionally, but seeing Michael just standing there in the really goofy fucking mask they gave him this film is just ridiculous. Donald Pleasance can only do so much.

5:19- Again we return to the idea of getting through to Michael emotionally. Jamie calls him uncle and asks for him to take his mask off. He does, even. But there doesn’t feel like there’s any understanding of who Michael is; there’s no consistent psychology or examination, only the gut feeling that family has to be important. But we know how Michael feels about family, and it’s not tender. He speaks his own language.

5:21- Where the fuck did Loomis even get a giant chain net and tranquiliser drafts.

5:25- Sure why wouldn’t a guy with a machine gun show up and just start slaughtering everyone like who the fuck cares.

5:28- I take a break to gather my thoughts and feelings emotionally so I can handle watching Halloween 6: The Curse of Michael Myers.

5:32- I change the cat litter to avoid watching Halloween 6: The Curse of Michael Myers.

5:40- I start Halloween 6: The Curse of Michael Myers.

5:50- The woman calls into radio station and says she’s in love with Michael Myers is the only person in this film I respect.

5:51- The decision to bring back Tommy Doyle as a conspiracy theorist who’s obsessed with Michael is a great concept, which is why I’m glad Tommy Doyle is in Halloween Kills so I never have to say Halloween 6 makes a point again. Paul Rudd (yes, that Paul Rudd) is shockingly terrible in this movie, and also, I don’t like him as an actor, so nothing about this performance endears him to me. I have no fucking idea what they directed him to do. It is miserable.

6:01- I am straight up not having a good time bro.

6:03- This is the only Halloween movie in a long time to actually try and show off its location; Halloween 5 could be set literally anywhere and is unfollowable, but Halloween 6 at least attempts to ground the movie in Haddonfield and show that this is a normal neighbourhood. Unfortunately, this movie takes place in nonsense magic doo-doo land so any attempt to ground us in anything is a waste of fucking time.

6:13- There’s a lot of reasons I don’t like this movie; I think the additions of mythology are absurd and go against the themes of the original, the conclusion is dumb as hell, the story is boring. It isn’t scary and it isn’t well-shot or well-written. But on a more abstract level, I hate its schlock, cheap understanding of what obsession and trauma does to someone. I fucking loathe that it uses rape as a shock tactic and how much abuse it puts its female characters through for no catharsis.

6:50- This curry I’m eating sucks ass. I want that on the record.

7:22- Jesus fucking Christ it’s finally time for Halloween H20: 20 Years Later. I love this movie. I love it for the ambition it had. It might not be a as fully realised examination of trauma after time as Halloween (2018) is, but I admire it for its vision. It doesn’t try to mimic the style of the first film, and I guess there’s a certain loss in aesthetic as it’s more akin to Scream or other fairly uniform 90s slasher movies in appearance, but it’s a far more confident movie than the other middling Halloween sequels. It has a clear understanding of what it wants the movie to be and is genuinely tense and thrilling because of that, as well as more readily grounded in reality. It has a genuine respect for the original that others fail to and tries to build an original film that follows it in a meaningful sense.

7:56- Laurie is really condemned to be around people who don’t listen to her but as much of a horrible little punk shit her son is, narratives about inherited or family trauma make me go insane, so this all affects me still.

8:01- I like the discussion of fate in Frankenstein as parallel to the discussion of fate in the first movie. It’s silly, but I like it, and that’s on me.

8:07- One of the smartest moves this film makes is using its own score. A lot of the middling sequels just lift from the original without any care, but H20 puts in some effort into building up some actual atmosphere.

8:13- I like that Laurie is a mess but still holding it together. She’s jumpy and always watching, with a bottle of alcohol a little too close beside her. It’s not exactly the most monumental depiction of lifelong trauma, but the film makes an effort. I love its effort. I love Jamie Lee Curtis as well.

8:26- This film brings back a theatricality to the presentations of Michael’s victims that I feel the movies sorely lack. If it doesn’t look like an art project why bother? I was going to say I wish there was more development of the relationship with Michael and his nephew, but I don’t. I want more Laurie. Love Laurie.

8:28- Michael’s not good with keys. I love the fact that his hands and eyes are so clear, though. It brings back that kind of essential physicality he had in the original. Him making contact with Laurie, the shot of the two of them through the glass looking at each other is so fucking good.

8:34- Laurie standing in the drive with a fucking axe screaming Michael’s name as the Halloween them kicks in fucking rules so goddamn hard. The final fight scene between these two is an all-time great.

8:39- Laurie pulling a gun on a cop so she can kidnap the coroner’s van so she can make sure Michael is actually dead is fucking incredible. She’s the best person who’s ever been written. The final conclusion of the film, with Michael reaching out to her when he’s pinned down, and it’s unclear if he’s asking for help or trying to reach out to hurt her one last time but his eyes are filled with desperation is one of the best moments in any of the films, and the power of Laurie just delivering the killing blow makes it even better. The fact they both get to be so vulnerable and so human and have a moment, just a moment, where their hands touch for any reason other than violence is so fucking strong. I love this fucking movie.

8:45- Halloween: Resurrection. Because after just seeing Laurie fight for her life and get out alive, triumphing over Michael once and for all, obviously what we want is to have the whole thing turn out to be bullshit and a fake out and for Laurie to die in the first five minutes of this film? Fuck this movie man. Like fuck this movie.

8:59- as bad and stupid and shallow as this movie is, the slight manipulation Michael performs is pretty great, and Laurie’s line “Are you afraid of me?” is an all-time great. This film doesn’t earn Laurie’s death, though, and it doesn’t deserve Jamie Lee Curtis. I’m not even totally against the idea of finding out what Michael would do if all his family was dead, but this movie’s option of ‘be in a reality show being filmed in his house’ is probably the answer I never, ever, ever wanted.

9:03- I have given up.

9:25- People make a big deal out of the ending scene where Busta Rhymes electrocutes Michael Myers in the nuts but it is really the only moment of levity in what is otherwise the most boring experience anyone can have.

10:00- I am eating leftover candy and contemplating my life.

10:17- I boot up Halloween (2007). I have accepted death.

10:19- Yeah, what Halloween was really lacking was a guy yelling “I should crawl over there and skullfuck the shit outta you!” before hitting on his teenage stepdaughter. The level of overt grossness and extremity that Robert Zombert brings to this franchise is so fucking putrid and unnecessary. All he brings to this franchise is insane amounts of unbridled misogyny and pop psychology. I said the same thing last year and I’ll happily say it again; this movie’s idea of what makes a serial killer is like something from a daytime TV movie. I’m sure it was intended to be edgy, but the demonization of the working class and sex workers and the position of Michael as the lower-class outsider to the nice suburbs is the most conformist class politics in existence. Halloween (1978)’s depiction of a serial killer who was a part of and came from inside the nice, safe, upper middle-class suburb will always be a far, far more revolutionary statement than this.

10:44- I don’t believe this really gives Michael ‘more backstory’ since it basically just re-treads what the first movie did, but it sure does it worse. The film just takes an incredible amount of time to say ultimately nothing at all. What really gets me is that this does really destroy the Michael is the big bad boogeyman myth simply because the childhood it gives Michael doesn’t fit with who he is. The change just feels forced. The suddenness of his violence feels forced. There doesn’t seem to be any observation here other than it would be scary if a nice kid was actually murderer.

10:56- Why does Michael’s mother own a huge projector. The melodrama of her killing herself is so absurd.

11:03- Michael Myers gets called the F-slur so many times in this movie that I’m officially adopting him as part of the LGBT community.

11:12- people criticise the original for not having the most natural of dialogue for its teenage girl characters, but the teenagers in this film are so incredibly obnoxious that it’s borderline unbearable to watch. Their dialogue is unnatural too, because it’s the kind of shit a weird old man really, desperately wants teenage girls to say.

11:23- There isn’t a scene in this that doesn’t drag on for too long in a completely unfunny, charmless way. It’s also insanely aggravating how Zombie is incapable of holding the camera still for longer than a couple of seconds at a time, and why everyone in the movie always has to be twenty feet away at all times.

11:25- This movie is just the first movie but longer with people screaming fuck constantly and added rape scenes. It is so insanely fucking worthless it really defies description.

11:28- I could be hanging out with my friends but I’m watching a bad movie. Contemplating life again.

11:45- I wish Robert Zombert wasn’t so horny.

11:51- I like truly never want to hear screaming again. There’s so much noise in this movie all the time. There isn’t a fucking second of silence in this film that couldn’t be filled with someone screaming hysterically or shit breaking. There isn’t a moment where the camera holds still and lets us take in the information in the frame without wobbling deliriously or swinging around like it’s on a fucking office chair.

12:10- I wonder if I can go see Doctor Sleep tomorrow. It’s technically not Halloween anymore, but if I manage to watch all these films within twenty-four hours I think it still counts.

12:13- We’re on Halloween II (2009). I like that this movie opens up with an explanation of what the symbolism of the white horse represents, in case you’re too stupid to figure it out for yourself. I like that the flashback is also completely drained of colour, in case you’re too stupid to figure out that it’s a flashback, even after it had a title card explaining it was. Just in case you thought Michael turned into a kid again, or something.

12:17- Glad we’re back to the constant screaming and camera swirling, just in case you thought for a brief second you’d have a moment of fucking peace.

12:21- I joked about the absurdity of Ben Traimor in Halloween II (1982) getting hit by a van and then exploding but it really doesn’t match up to the pointless fucking spectacle of violence that occurs roughly every ten seconds in Halloween II (2009). There’s no reason whatsoever to have the coroner’s van full of rapists crash into a cow and have the most incredibly bloody crash scene ever while one of them screams fuck over and over, but it happens. It isn’t scary, funny, or interesting, but it sure happens. That just about sums up this movie. Loud, bloody, and gratuitous, but not, y’know, interesting.

12:39- What an exploitative ‘I think crazy chicks are hot’ vision of trauma this is.

12:48- The idea of Loomis cashing in on his fame and becoming a celebrity psychologist is a good idea, but in classic Rob Zombie way, it’s done in the least interesting way possible.

1:04- What the fuck is happening.

1:13- it is like fucking incredible how boring this movie is. None of these scenes have any purpose. It’s just stuff, it’s stuff to put on film, with no larger thesis or point. I don’t fully understand why anyone bothered making this movie.

1:29- Great, a party sequence. That’s what this film really needed. More pointless noise and scenes that go nowhere. It was way too quiet and plot-heavy until now.

1:31- Does Mr Zombie know he can just make music videos. Like wouldn’t it be easier.

1:55- The ending scene in this movie is so incredibly incoherent and unwatchable. The bringing of the strange psychic ghosts that haunt Michael and Laurie and making them real, physical presences only makes the film more incoherent. It’s all jerky, wild camera movements, strobe lighting and screaming from here on out. Michael is such a non-entity in this film. He’s in at least half the movie, but he’s not himself. He’s just like a big guy with a beard and one line.

1:59- The slo-mo is so unnecessary. Like you fucking had to make this movie even longer? For who? For what?

2:00- I wish we were all dead.

2:01- I think I’ve seen Blade Runner 2049, a movie I deeply love and cherish, less times than I’ve seen Rob Zombie’s Halloween II.

2:02- Feel depressed about this.

2:03- If I ever hear Love Hurts again, I’ll kill myself.

2:04- Spent two minutes in silent contemplation.

2:06- It’s finally time for Halloween (2018). It’s hard to understate how much respect I have for this movie. Like I said earlier, I admire H20 a lot for its attempt to be a reaction to Laurie’s trauma and grief, but it does not manage to pull this off with anywhere near as much grace and effectiveness as Halloween (2018). And on top of that, the film is stunningly shot, the only film on par with the original in terms of how beautiful and memorable the cinematography is.

2:10- The distance from which we see Michael initially is so great; there’s so much restraint. He’s unmasked for a good portion of the early movie, but the film holds back in a way that makes his face completely unreadable and instead focuses on people’s reactions to and fear of him. It gives a sense that he’s almost too frightening to be fully captured on film. We can never really understand the legend of Michael, the same way people who don’t see him ‘in the wild’ can’t; we can only see him through legends.

2:14- The soundtrack in this movie is a fucking incredible beast. John Carpenter is God, frankly.

2:17- I adore Laurie’s portrayal in this movie. She’s so cold and defensive towards people who don’t believe or respect her, but there’s a painful, raw vulnerability to her as well. She’s traumatised person who has run the gamut of people refusing to understand or respect her trauma or the worldview she’s developed. There’s such a profound mixture of power and pain, a sense of immense dignity to her. She’s sick to death of the lack of respect and cruelty she’s faced. I just love how much emotion was put into her performance, how much the filmmakers really cared about making her a fully realised expression of trauma and the way people react.

2:24- Dave blowing up a pumpkin with a firecracker is the most accurately teenage thing that’s ever happened in these movies.

2:25- Laurie standing on the sidewalk outside the school in a mirror of how Michael did rules. The callbacks in this movie are always so underplayed that they feel like they take actual meaning, rather than just being a case of demanding fans look at something cool they recognise.

2:31- I am deliriously sleepy. Laurie’s breakdown at family dinner is so painful. She carries so much grief; she is, in her eyes, the only one who does and who may ever know the truth, surrounded by people who can’t understand her because trying to put themselves in her world hurts them too much. I think Laurie’s daughter’s description of what it was like growing up in a survivalist environment filled with anxiety and paranoia is so key; it was traumatising for her to grow up in a trauma-based environment. I hope she gets more time in the next movie.

2:43- This is the third movie in the franchise where Michael kills people in a public toilet, but definitely the best time it’s been done. Michael throwing teeth at the journalist writing about him is something that is so insane that it’s now burned itself directly into my brain and I am incapable of not tweeting ‘i wish michael myers would throw teeth on me’ at least once every three weeks.

2:46- The gravity that’s given to Michael putting the mask on is mesmerising. Again, I love the physicality of his hands and motions; this movie doesn’t forget he’s a real, physical person.

2:52- I’m obsessed with Michael’s decision not to kill the baby. He’s on a random murder spree, killing anyone who he sees without any particular cause, but he passes right by the baby. Looks at it, and then chooses not to. He made an actual choice not to. I always wonder what was going through his mind at the time.

2:59- Alyson’s costume was a really great way to have her end up with the same silhouette as Laurie in the first movie without having her just straight up dress like her grandma. Nice touches.

3:01- “You are so getting dry-fucked tonight” is probably one of the most wretched lines of dialogue in this franchise.

3:09- Laurie hunting for Michael is so good. She’s so fucking ruthless in this movie; she’s afraid but she’s fucking tuned in completely to her revenge hunger.

3:13- Sartain is a character I really love. The set-up is obviously that he’s Loomis 2, Laurie even refers to him as “the new Loomis”, and he reflects and subverts this in interesting ways. I like that he calls Michael “property of the state”; it’s his own way of dehumanising Michael. To him, Michael is an asset, something to be poked and prodded and studied. But of course, unlike Loomis, his obsessive interest in Michael is far more appreciative.

3:16- This film’s ability to just use silence is so good.

3:17- The first time Alyson sees Michael is incredible. The musical sting. Fuck me. God, I love this movie. And God I love this fucking soundtrack.

3:22- The twist of Sartain turning and killing the cop, protecting Michael and trying to seek out what it feels like to kill is great. Also, the way he stroked Michael’s face? I hate to break it to you, but if you don’t think they were fucking? Grow up.

3:30- I love the drama of Michael’s corpse arrangements. Back to the good old art student days, I see. He’s having a midlife crisis. Every time Laurie and Michael see each other is so fucking powerful. The connection between the two of them is so vibrant. And her shooting half his hand off? Iconic. Really excited to see how the makeup department carries that on next film.

3:39- The final showdown sequence is incredible. Laurie and Michael nearly being on equal terms sounds like it should make it boring, if she can match him hit for hit, but the film never drops a level in tension. It manages to be surprising not just for us but also for Michael, who obviously wasn’t expecting to be on the back foot with Laurie, which only makes the scene more intense.

3:42- WHY IS HE SO STRONG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

3:43- The performance of Karen screaming she needs help and she can’t do it only to shoot Michael point blank and then have Laurie emerge out of the shadows the way she does is one of the best fucking moments in cinema. The three women working together to defeat Michael and kill him where he stands, absolutely kicking the shit out of him and then setting him alight is fucking incredible. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen such a triumphant fucking ending in anything. The Strode women’s win feels like such an incredible fucking win. I have no fucking idea how Halloween Kills is going to follow this up.

3:46- I love this movie. The house burning down with Michael inside it is so striking. The way fire is shot is so powerful, and the ending shot of the Strodes? With Alyson holding the knife? A perfect movie.

3:47- I have died.

#rantsfilmwatch #my writing #halloween

26 notes · View notes

jtoddstrangersfic-blog · 5 years

Text

Strangers (Jason Todd x Female OC): Chapter 3

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of domestic abuse

Author’s Note: I am physically incapable of sticking to a posting schedule, so I’m just going to update when I can. Follow me or check on my master list every now and then, I’ll keep it as updated as I can. I’m so sorry, but also very grateful for all the DMs and feedback! You’re all wonderful, and I appreciate each and every one of you :)

1,932 words

Masterlist

Jason

It was two weeks since the Red Hood ran into Rian. A strange feeling had settled over Jason after he realized she was the screaming woman he saved in the alley. He was more aware of her now, and spent the majority of his World Literature class cautiously studying her from her seat next to him (technically two seats away; her bag still acted as a barrier between herself and the rest of the class). He couldn’t get the memory of her returning to the scene of the attack, just to check on the shattered remnants of something in a plastic bag, out of his head. He never saw anyone return to the scene of crime.

He had followed her home that night to make sure she was safe, and made an astonishing discovery. Not only did she live in the same apartment building as him, she was also part of the notorious Apartment 11F. How he managed to never see her in or around the building was another mystery, but he chalked that up to his strange schedule.

Jason arrived to his World Literature class earlier than usual. Students filed in around him as the clock ticked closer to three o’clock. Rachel took her usual place beside him, and he exchanged brief pleasantries with her and Chelsea before his attention was pulled to Rian.

She was one of the last people to enter the classroom, arriving seconds before Dr. Cortez. She glided down the aisle separating the first and second row of desks, taking her usual seat next to the wall. She placed her brown leather bag in the open seat beside Jason, ignoring some of the curious glances she received from her classmates. Rian’s dark hair hid her face like a curtain, and Jason could sense a change in her demeanor.

She usually sat with perfect posture, taking time to remove her course materials from her bag while Dr. Cortez set up his lecture for the day. Today she sat slightly slouched in the chair, her bag sitting untouched in the seat between them.

It was then Jason decided he would try to talk to her when class was over. He had two hours to plan the perfect conversation starter; something that would come off friendly and lighthearted but would hopefully warrant a response from her. One conversation, that was all he wanted (at least for now).

Jason couldn’t describe the feeling, but he felt like he and Rian shared more than what was apparent on the surface. There was something about her he couldn’t quite place. They may have been strangers, but he felt like he could change that. Needed to change that.

Rian

Rian really did enjoy classes with Dr. Cortez, but this one seemed to drag by at a pace that rivaled a snail. He decided to organize the class into two smaller seminar groups to discuss last week’s reading. Of course she finished it (she made it a top priority the second Dr. Cortez assigned it), but she wasn’t in the mood to engage with any of her classmates. The last two weeks had been hell with Riley.

Following the pasta sauce incident, he became unbearably angry with her. It was such a simple task and she felt like she failed him. She didn’t want to dwell on what happened after he returned home that night to a meager meal that was nothing more than a bowl of plain pasta with butter on the table, but Rian’s ribs still ached in protest under her sweater at the memory.

She sat among the circle of her peers, one of the two groups discussing the reading. She was interested in the conversation at first, but that interest was quickly forgotten when Chelsea took control of the group. Chelsea once again made it her life’s mission to exclude Rian from any conversation, and Rian still didn’t understand how a complete stranger could hate her so vehemently.

Rian took diligent notes instead, forcing herself to at least look engaged in the seminar as Dr. Cortez weaved around the room.

The class finally ended at five, and Rian hurried to rearrange her desk before leaving for the day. Riley warned her not to be late tonight, and she didn’t want to make him any angrier than he already was. She just had to survive one more night with him before he was away for the weekend, leaving her alone in the apartment for the first time in weeks. Rian had several books piling up to read on her bedside table, and this weekend presented the perfect opportunity to finally chip away at them.

She pulled her chair from the dwindling circle of desks a little too forcefully, propelling herself backwards into a solid mass of muscle. The chair caused her to lose her balance. She felt warm hands gently steady her sore arms before she regained her composure.

She spun around, heart pounding as she apologized profusely to a pair of piercing blue eyes. Of course she had to fall into Jason Todd, the smart guy who sat next to her with the silky black hair and perfect jawline. Even with her heels, he was still several inches taller than her.

“It’s fine doll, no harm done.” Jason assured her, flashing an easygoing lopsided grin. Rian’s cheeks reddened as she turned back to her chair, tucking it quickly beneath her desk. “I’m Jason.” He added, following her to his table with his own chair in tow. “Jason Todd.”

“Nice to meet you.” Rian forced a quick smile as she grabbed her leather bag, eager to leave before she embarrassed herself further in front of Jason. There was something about him that made her heart race. Maybe it was his height, or his eyes, or the confidence he emulated. She wasn’t the only one to notice, and it was better for her to limit her interactions with him to avoid any unwanted attention.

“Wait up!” She didn’t need to turn around to know it was Jason following after her. Rian knew the sound of his voice from class, and thoroughly enjoyed listen to him share his unique interpretations of the class readings. He was smart and genuinely interested in literature, two things Rian would have liked to see in Riley. As one of billionaire Bruce Wayne’s heirs, Jason was the perfect package. A playboy who could win over any girl he wanted (not that Rian was paying attention or anything).

“Rian.” She stated nervously, glancing at him as he matched her stride. She caught his gaze curiously wandering across her face. Rian hoped he wouldn’t notice the fading bruise on her cheek, although she was sure she covered it with more than enough makeup.

“Rian.” He repeated, a small smile pulling at his mouth. She liked the way he said her name with his deep voice. “Are you a Lit major?”

“Writing and Fashion Design, actually.” She supplied as the pair exited the Literature building into a darkening Gotham. “But I love Dr. Cortez, I try to take one of his classes every semester.”

“Me too, he’s an incredible teacher.” Jason smiled wider at Rian’s declaration.

She returned his friendly gesture. She sensed he was trying to make conversation, but it was too dangerous. If Riley knew she was talking to another guy outside of class (let alone the Jason Todd), he would be livid.

“It was nice talking to you, but I have to get back to my apartment.” She added reluctantly, trying to mask her regret. She didn’t want him to think she was stuck up or anything. “I guess I’ll see you-”

“I was actually going to ask you something. Super fast, I promise.”

She stopped walking to look at him in surprise, Uber already open on her phone.

“Do you mind if I take a picture of your notes? From the seminar today? I wasn’t really paying attention to my group and I noticed you writing some stuff down, which I probably shoulda done in retrospect.” He raised his brows slightly, as if begging her to accept his offer.

“S-sure.” Rian was taken aback. Was he talking to her all of a sudden just to get her notes? She pulled her notebook from her bag in compliance, flipping through a few pages to find the entry from today.

“A lot of writing in there. Is that all for Dr. Cortez?” Jason noted, glancing at the pages filled with her flowing handwriting as she hurried past them.

“Among other things.” She answered, and sensing he wanted more information, added, “It’s also some ideas I have for articles.”

“Articles?” Jason sounded more interested in her answer than she initially thought he would be. Especially for someone who just wanted her notes.

“Yeah,” Rian answered absentmindedly. “I help edit articles for the Gotham Chronicle and I’m hoping if I write a few strong pieces I can become a contributor too. But who knows. Ah, here it is.”

Jason pulled his phone out, snapping a few pictures of the pages.

“That’s really cool, good for you.” He sounded genuine in his compliment. “I love reading the GC, it’s the only newspaper around here that isn’t convoluted with hysteria and… you know.” Jason shoved his phone back into the pocket of his dark jeans, his blue eyes once again scanning her face. “Anything fun you’re working on?”

“Not really.” Rian was going to walk away, she really was. But Jason was the first person to take an interest in her work, and she really wanted to bounce some ideas off someone that wasn’t her bedroom wall. “Well, there’s one I’m kind of excited to work on. I came up with it two weeks ago after… something happened.” She trailed off, unsure of how much information she should share with him.

Jason smiled at her, encouraging her to continue.

“I had a run in with one of the vigilantes, the ones every other newspaper is up in arms about.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up at Rian’s admission, but he didn’t press her for more information.

“I didn’t realize what happened until after, but I think one of them saved me. I couldn’t get a good look at them, but. I don’t know. I just know they’re not as bad as a lot of people seem to think they are. They’re out there saving people and protecting the city, that isn’t something we need to fight against. Maybe they’re breaking the law, and I’m not trying to say that’s right, but there are a lot of more dangerous agents out there. The Penguin. Black Mask. The Joker.” Jason winced at the last villain she mentioned, but he quickly composed himself. “I think these vigilantes like Batman and Nightwing and the others are trying to help alleviate the situation or whatever. I don’t think the police should be using all of these resources and public funds on fighting them, at least not yet. There are bigger problems out there. People being killed, and drugged, and trafficked. We need all the help we can get to fight this.”

Jason was quiet for a moment, his eyes never leaving Rian’s face.

“Sounds like a hell of an article. Can you send me a copy when you’re done writing it?”

“If I ever finish, you’ll be the first person I tell.” Rian smiled at him, and he returned it easily.

“You’re probably gonna need my number then.” He smirked at her surprised face, clearly pleased he caught her off guard.

He pulled a pen out of his bag before she could react, opening her notebook to the first page. He scrawled his phone number at the top of her notes, just above the first bullet note. He closed the notebook, giving Rian a wink before sauntering off toward the library.

She stood there in awe at how smooth he was, watching him as he strode away.

27 notes · View notes

torestoreamends · 5 years

Text

Mine to Make: Chapter 1

240k words total, 20 chapters

Summary

On his seventeenth birthday, Albus runs away. Years of arguing with his dad and struggling at school have worn him down, and he just wants to be free. With Delphi's mantra 'the future is mine to make' echoing in his head, he sets out to change his life, leaving everything and everyone behind.

Years later, an accidental meeting with Scorpius forces him to question the new life he's built for himself. Is his life complete without his family? Was he wrong to leave Scorpius behind? Is he really any happier now than he would have been if he'd stayed? And does he truly know Delphi, the person who convinced him to walk away?

This was one of the first fic ideas I had when I joined this fandom, way back in the summer of 2016. It's taken three years to get to the point of finishing it, but here we are!

The biggest champion of this one has to be @eldabe, who has long encouraged the concept of hot older Albus with his tattoos and leather jackets. I also have to thank my indefatigable beta, Dr @abradystrix, who helped edit this monster, even amidst moving to the other side of the world.

N.B. This fic is complete on AO3, so binge read away if you want! Here on tumblr I’ll be posting a chapter every day until it’s all done.

Read it on AO3

I Flight

I'm coming home, I'm coming home, Tell the world I'm coming home, Let the rain wash away, All the pain of yesterday. I know my kingdom awaits, And they've forgiven my mistakes. I'm coming home, I'm coming home, Tell the world I'm coming...

–Dirty Money

Albus lies very still in the half-darkness and watches the seconds tick by on his Tempus Charm. Behind his hangings, the golden numerals make a very faint glow. They're barely bright enough for him to see, and no one else will know what he's doing, which is just the way he wants it.

His mouth feels dry and his heart pounds in his chest. He's been waiting so long for this moment, counting down the months and weeks and days since the start of the year. He's had everything planned out, his bag is packed, he's determined – he’s even talked to Scorpius about what he's going to do, to make sure it isn’t a horrible surprise to him. But now that the moment is approaching (two minutes to go) he feels a bit sick.

Can he really do this? Is it truly possible to change his life? He's always felt like he's teetering on the edge of being himself, with only his family; his dad; the past holding him back. If he can break free of all that then he can find out who he's meant to be, once and for all.

The future is mine to make, he thinks, the comforting words drifting through his mind. He's been holding onto them since the summer, writing them in his books and notes, scrawling them on the back of his hand to glance at whenever he has a particularly difficult class, carving them into the desk when he gets upset and anxious. He needs those words, and he's finally about to take ownership of them.

Thirty seconds to go.

He sits up in bed as quietly as he can and listens. The dorm beyond his hangings is completely silent. It's midnight so everyone should be long asleep, and if anyone isn’t then they’re likely to be downstairs in the Common Room doing some last minute homework. He's safe. Hopefully.

Ten seconds.

His heart pounds, and he wonders if it's loud enough to wake up Scorpius, who's sleeping in the bed next to his.

Five seconds.

He reaches out for his hangings, ready to rip them back and make a break for freedom.

Three seconds. Two. One.

Midnight.

Albus's hand shakes as he pulls the hangings aside. He dismisses the Tempus Charm and slides off his bed, landing on the floor with barely a creak.

Being seventeen doesn't feel any different to being sixteen, nothing tangible has changed. Apart from the knowledge that now he’s no longer bound by the rules. He can do magic whenever and wherever he likes now. No one can find him when he runs now, no matter what he does. He's safe. He's free. He's free.

He tiptoes round the end of his bed to where his backpack is waiting. He's still fully dressed – it seemed stupid to run away in his pyjamas – but he pushes his feet into his shoes and picks his jacket up from where it's laid over his trunk, ready for him to put on.

Zipping up the front of the jacket is the most heart stopping thing he's ever done in his life. Every tooth seems to make an awful noise, and he screws his whole body up tight and tense, hoping that might minimise the sound. In the end he just gives up and leaves it mostly unzipped. It's not too cold outside; it's been a warm March. He can do without.

He picks his backpack up and swings it over his shoulder, then turns towards the door. That's when he spots the blond-haired figure sitting watching him, perched on the very edge of their bed, ghostly pale in the watery light flooding through the window, anxiously twisting their wand between their fingers.

"Hi," Scorpius whispers.

Albus swallows. He adjusts the backpack on his back, hiking it up higher, hoping it makes him look more determined. "Scorpius, I-"

"Happy birthday," Scorpius says, in a strained murmur.

Albus lifts his chin and crosses his arms. "You knew I was going to do this. You know you can't stop me."

Scorpius gets to his feet. "Albus..." He draws his wand and gives it a flick to cast Lumos. White wandlight floods the room, making it suddenly very bright, shadows racing to hide in every corner like they're scared of being burned by the sudden glow. Albus screws his eyes up against how intense it is.

"Albus," Scorpius says again. "You don't have to do this. I know it's bad but we can fix things. I don't know how but we'll find a way. That's what we do. We always find a way."

"Do we?" Albus asks. "Are you sure about that? Because it feels like we never-" His voice breaks, and he feels tears prickling his eyes. He swallows hard. "It feels like we never manage to do anything. It feels like we always fail. Like I always fail." He raises a hand and ticks the failures off on his fingers. "I'm a terrible son, I'm rubbish at school, everyone hates me. You'll be better off without me, and I-" He takes a breath and looks at Scorpius. "I might be better off too."

Scorpius looks at him, mouth slightly open, like he's trying to work out what to say, like there are words trying to escape but all at once and he doesn't know which to start with. Finally he shakes his head. "Albus, I really think-"

"I have to do this, Scorpius," Albus says in a whisper that rises into hysteria. "You know I have to."

"But-"

Albus sniffs. The tears prickling his eyes are threatening to spill over but he can't look afraid now. He's not afraid. He's certain.

The future is mine to make.

"I'm going," he says, pushing strength and confidence into his voice. "I'm going and no one is stopping me. It's the only way."

"Do you even know where you're going to go?" Scorpius asks, sounding forlorn and desperate. "You can't just run off without a plan."

"Yes," Albus says. "I know exactly where I'm going." There's a note tucked into his pocket telling him his destination. He's had it since the summer. On the worst days he's taken it out and looked at it. That address is hope, the only thing he’s had to hold on to.

"Does anyone know where you're going?" Scorpius asks. "I’ve told you before that you should tell someone. You should tell me. What if something happens to you? What if you need help?"

"And I’ve told you before that I'm running away," Albus sighs. "The whole point of this is that no one knows where I'm going. It's a new start. And if something happens to me..." He doesn't want to say 'so what'. He does care about being safe. He doesn't want to die or anything. But at the same time... "I know where to find you," he says. "If I need you. I know where to find all of you."

"And what if-" Scorpius breaks off and folds his arms across his body. He shakes his head.

"What if?"

"It doesn't matter," Scorpius murmurs. He wipes the sleeve of pyjama top across his nose and looks up at Albus. "I'm going to miss you," he says softly.

Albus looks at him, at the way his eyes are glinting like stars in the wandlight, at the glow of his hair, at how pale and sad his expression is, glittering tears trailing down his cheeks. His beautiful best friend, the only good thing about his life, who he already misses so much that it aches. If anything were to stop him going it would be Scorpius, but he has to do this. Even Scorpius isn’t enough to make existence stop hurting.

Albus steps across the space between them and puts a hand on Scorpius's arm. "I'll miss you too," he says, looking into Scorpius's eyes, which are swimming with tears. "I-I really will. More than-" He swallows. "More than anything."

He hesitates for a moment, an inch or two away from Scorpius, then he closes the final heartbeat between them and hugs Scorpius as hard as he can.

He feels Scorpius's body shaking with sobs. There are tears dribbling down his own cheeks too, and he can feel his nose running. It's that that finally makes him pull away, so he can wipe his nose on his sleeve.

"I have to go," he says, and it comes out broken and choked. "I'll see you."

"Will you?" Scorpius asks, in an equally small and fractured voice.

Albus nods. "I promise." Then he turns and makes himself walk from the dorm, because if he doesn't do it now he never will.

He pulls the Invisibility Cloak over him in the corridor outside and hugs it close to himself, bowing his head and trying to choke back his sobs so no one hears him as he winds his way through the Slytherin Common Room.

But as much as it hurts, every single step makes him feel a bit lighter. The Common Room wall closes up behind him and he starts walking down the dark stone corridor towards the stairs. He walks up out of the shadowy dungeon into the Entrance Hall that's still brightly lit, even at night, torches burning on the walls, bathing everything in flickering golden light.

The steps across the hall towards the door get easier and easier as he leaves everything behind. The arguments with his dad, the bullying, his family, his abysmal performance at school, the past. There is only the future now, and he can do with it whatever he wants. He can finally find out who he is, who he wants to be. He can be himself.

The Entrance Hall doors slide smoothly open as he pushes them, not even giving a creak, and he slips through. Outside the air is fresh and cool and it smells so sweet – of early spring, and daffodils, and hope. A gentle breeze blows on his face. Overhead the clouds part, and a shaft of pale moonlight falls down onto his face, cutting a glowing white path across the sea of black grass, down the lawn, towards the forest, pointing to the boundary of the school.

And as he starts down the steps he feels weightless. It's thirteen minutes past midnight, he's seventeen years old, and it's time for his future to begin.

A ball of Fiendfyre comes pelting out of the darkness and Albus dodges downwards so it just singes the ends of his hair. Below him the crowd roar their approval. It's an unseasonably cold night, but the Fiendfyre is white hot, and Albus can feel its scorching heat on his skin even when he keeps his distance. The adrenaline helps too. He never feels cold while he's racing.

The wind lashes at his face, and he squints into it as he goes into a steep dive, heading in the direction of where he knows the next marker is waiting for him. His heart is pounding in his chest. He can hear cheering, whistling breeze, the crackle of flames, and the rushing of blood in his ears. This is pure energy. This is a rush. This is what he exists to do.

Up ahead he can see more Fiendfyre, suspended fifty feet in the air, lashing dangerously through the bars of the cage it's being contained by. Albus doesn't get as close to it as he probably should do when he turns, and as he accelerates away he hears the crowd screaming encouragement to someone behind him. He can only assume that it’s Jamal who’s gaining on him; he’s the only one who’s ever really been close to Albus in terms of speed when Albus is at the peak of his form, and tonight Albus is on fire. If he’s being caught up then that means it’s time for him to put on a show. This is when the race really begins.

He doesn't spare a glance behind him. There's no time for that. Racing, he's learned over the last seven years, is a game of margins. If you take an instant to find out where your competitors are they'll already have come past you. Instead he flattens himself to the handle of his broom, urging it forward to the next turn.

He's like an arrow, like a lightning bolt, slicing through the sky like he's designed to do it, which in a way he is. He's a Potter after all, not that anyone here knows it; not that he'd ever admit it. But Potters are built to fly: small and skinny and quick. Except he's better at this than his dad ever was. He's perfected it. These days he'd make his dad look clumsy in the air, and the thought of that still delights him even after all this time.

He grins as he turns the broom, a long, looping curve round one end of the stadium, round another flaming cage, and on towards the next. It feels good that this is the stadium he’s racing in for his homecoming. It feels right. This place has always been his favourite, ever since he was a kid scribbling over his mum’s notes in the press box. There’s nowhere he’d rather race, even if the roar of it, the shape of it, the familiar view of the pitch from above makes his heart twinge. If there’s a stadium in the world that feels like home, it’s this one.

He’s thinking too much he realises with a jolt, and he shakes himself. He can feel Jamal closing in behind him, getting dangerously close, and Albus knows that Jamal will be quicker on the flat. He just has to hold him off until the next dive. No one can dive like Albus. They all have something holding them back, but Albus has nothing to lose. If he ploughs into the ground and dies at least he'll have gone doing the only thing he's ever loved, the only thing he's chosen for himself. Albus wins or he dies trying.

“Sev!” Jamal yells, and although his voice is whipped away by the wind, he's close enough now for Albus to hear him.

Albus doesn't respond.

"Hey, Sev!" Jamal tries again. “I hope you had a nice European holiday. Did you enjoy winning all those races out there? I hope you didn’t get too used to it, because you’re not going to be winning many more now you’re back.”

Albus snorts. “I’m in front,” he yells back. “In case you hadn’t noticed, being in front means I’m winning. Or did the rules change while I was away to give everyone else a chance?”

“You may be in front now,” Jamal calls, “but for how much longer?”

And that's when Albus feels a curious sensation dragging him back. Magic. Jamal is an excellent wizard, and now he’s going to charm Albus out of winning. It’s low, but not illegal. In this sort of racing, anything goes.

Albus rolls his eyes. His wand is in his pocket, and it’ll cost him valuable time to fish it out, but the charm is doing that anyway. He’ll get it out on the next straight.

Jamal catches up at the turn, swooping round Albus’s outside so they’re flying shoulder to shoulder. Albus is close to the crate of Fiendfyre and he knows all too well that he’s vulnerable. He screws up all his strength and shoves outwards, so Jamal doesn’t have chance to push him into the scorching flames.

The heat, so close beside him, makes his shoulder ache, and it’s a relief to get past safely. Now they’re flying straight again he can reach down and draw his wand. It takes long enough that Jamal overtakes and gains one foot, two feet, three feet, drawing away into the distance.

Albus grits his teeth and waves his wand. He hates doing magic, especially in the air, but sometimes he has no choice, and this is one of those times. He needs to try and remove the spell, and he just has to hope he doesn’t mess it up.

His first attempt does nothing; if anything it makes him even slower. He can see Jamal disappearing round the next turn up ahead, and he can see shapes from behind flashing closer to him. A couple of his other faster rivals are catching up.

“Come on,” Albus mutters to himself. “You can do this.”

He takes a deep breath and tries to imagine what advice Scorpius would have given him in this situation. It’s what he always does when he’s struggling with magic, even all these years after their parting.

“Confidence, Albus. It’s not actually that complicated a spell. You just have to be firm with it. And don’t move your wrist so much, you’re going to take someone’s eye out if you flick your wand around like that.”

Says you, Albus thinks at his internal Scorpius. You were always a danger to everyone, all that flailing.

But he takes the words to heart. He closes his eyes for a moment, then he screws up all his confidence and determination, and casts the spell.

Immediately he wonders if he’s overdone it and somehow accidentally propelled himself forwards, but he’s not going to complain if he has. The spell releases and he shoots forward far faster than he’d been flying before. It takes all his skill to control the turn and stop himself spinning out into the crowd, but he makes it round, and already he can see Jamal up ahead.

The crowd screams, and he doesn’t care if they’re for him or against him as long as they’re roaring like that. It’s all the fuel he needs.

He flattens himself right against his broom, so everything from stomach to chin is pressed against the varnished wood. The world blurs around him as he gathers speed. There’s one more long turn before the finish line and he’s gaining. He can do this.

“Go, go, go,” he says to his broom, urging it on, and he can feel it almost vibrating with the effort it’s giving.

They’re just a few feet away now, but they’re at the turn. Albus can’t physically go any faster, but Jamal stays in front as they round the corner. Albus isn’t even quite close enough to give him a nudge towards the fire.

Another ball of Fiendfyre flies over their heads as they pull out into the final straight and start to dive down towards the finish. Jamal ducks, but Albus is already low enough to his broom that he doesn’t have to, and he gains another couple of inches.

He’s right beside Jamal now, and he sees Jamal glance across and try to put on an extra burst of speed, but there’s no way either of them can go faster than they already are, and Jamal is tall, thin, light, and crucially just a touch slower than Albus, especially descending.

Albus can see the finish line, a strip of glowing gold in the air ahead of them. He pulls out of his dive at the same instant as Jamal and they couldn’t possibly be closer. There’s not even an inch separating them.

But then, from below, there’s the sound of shouting. Not the roar of the crowd but a more distinct sound.

“Stop! Stop, stop, stop! Stop this race right now.”

Jamal hesitates and glances down, but Albus doesn’t. Whatever anyone says he’s not stopping the race with the finish line in sight. That’s not how this works. He can worry about anything else once it’s over.

He shoots across the line, Jamal trailing a foot behind, and he punches the air. There’s no roar from the crowd, who are all distracted by what’s happening on the ground, so he lowers his arms and wheels round, peering down at the pitch below to see what’s going on.

There’s a single wizard down there, standing in the middle of the grass, right where the centre circle is marked. He’s holding his wand up to his throat and looking around at everyone. Albus notices the crest on his robes: he’s from the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

Albus stops dead in the air and stares down in horror at the Ministry wizard. “What- How did they- They’ve found us! We need to get out of here, we-“

Jamal gives a grim laugh and pats him on the shoulder. “You’ve been in France too long, Sev. This isn’t exactly a new development.” He glances around. “Where’s Gareth? We need our spokesman.”

One by one Albus’s competitors go streaking past him towards the ground, and he hangs in the air, not knowing what to do other than follow them. Maybe he has been away too long. This wasn’t what he was expecting, but no one else seems surprised to find the Ministry here. When he was last here this sort of thing would have been a disaster. Everyone would have panicked and fled. There would have been chaos. Now there’s a strange sense of order, like people were ready for this.

He touches down at the back of the group, keen to keep a crowd of his fellow racers between himself and the Ministry wizard. The last thing he needs now is for someone to recognise him – he can’t remember when he last took a dose of his potion, and it’s been too long since he cut his hair. Luckily, being at the back of the group doesn’t mean he can’t hear what’s going on, because the Ministry wizard is using a Sonorus Charm, which echoes through the whole stadium when he speaks.

“Everyone needs to leave this stadium,” the man says. “This race is over and if you don’t leave you will be liable for prosecution. If you could leave quickly and-“

“Wait wait wait.” A tall, powerful man with a bald head, pale skin, and a heavy Welsh accent nudges his way to the front of the crowd. “I think you’re being a bit hasty here, sir. I know you’re from the Ministry but what authority do you have to throw us out? Last time one of your lot came it turned out only Law Enforcement could get rid of us, and I’m sure you understand we’ve got a crowd to entertain and families to feed.”

The Ministry wizard removes his wand from his throat, letting the Sonorus Charm die, and points it at the group. “As all of you well know, this race is illegal. You have been warned plenty of times. On our last visit we said that if you were caught racing again you would be subject to fines and the possibility of further legal action.”

“And I’m well aware of that,” Gareth says, “but you can’t arrest us or fine us or evict us. I’d say this is a bit of a wasted trip. Or is this the part where the Aurors come storming in to back you up?”

The wizard puffs himself up and glares at the group. “I’m not here to arrest you or fine you tonight. I’m here to deliver a message.”

“So you’re the Ministry’s Owl then?” Gareth asks, and one of the racers at the back of the group makes a hooting sound. The others laugh, and Gareth glances round and grins. “Thank you for that contribution.” He turns back to the official. ”Look, I’m sorry for your wasted trip out here, sir. I hope they’re paying you overtime.”

“They’re not, but-“ The Ministry wizard breaks off, shuffling his feet and going red. Albus can’t help but feel a little bit sorry for him. He’s probably far too overworked and underpaid to deal with this sort of thing, but here he is. Doing his best. He’s committed to his rubbish job at least. “But that’s not the point,” the man continues, puffing himself up and trying to inject some authority into his voice. “I’m here to deliver a message. And the message is this. You have twelve hours to disband this league and discontinue all illegal activity. If you fail to comply then reinforcements from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement will be dispatched to carry out further action. This is your final warning, and-“ He hesitates, thinking hard, apparently trying to remember if he has anything else to say. After a second he shakes his head. “No, that’s all. I will now escort you from these premises.” He points his wand from person to person across the front of the crowd surrounding him, but no one moves.

Gareth glances up at the stands around the pitch, and it’s clear that the spectators have started to disband. The numbers up there are getting thinner and thinner by the second. Soon there’ll be no one left to race in front of.

“Alright,” he says with a sigh. “We’ll leave. But we’re clearing up first. Those Fiendfyre cages are expensive.” He gestures to a couple of others, and people start to follow him back into the air to start tidying the course away. Albus takes the opportunity to make himself scarce.

He hurries across the grass in the direction of the changing rooms, head buzzing. What’s been happening while he’s been gone? Last time he was here the Ministry hadn’t found them, and now there have been warnings and legal action and... Everything is falling apart. Maybe it’s already fallen apart. He’d been so looking forward to being home, but now... Now what? There’s only one person who can answer that question, and he really hopes her answer is a good one.

Shower water thunders down onto Albus’s head, hot and heavy, making him shiver where it hits a tender spot on his back. He rubs a hand over his shoulder, which prickles and aches under the heat of the water. It’s never going to stop being sensitive to heat.

The sound of the drumming water is almost so loud that he doesn’t hear the door open. Almost, but not quite. He’s been waiting for that sound, so he picks it out and all his relaxation disappears into tense stiffness as he waits for whatever comes next.

“Sev, you get out of that shower right now and tell me what’s going on or I’ll come in and drag you out by the-“

He doesn’t need telling twice. He grabs the nearest towel, wipes his face so he can see where he’s going, then wraps it round his waist and stumbles out of the stall.

There’s a short woman waiting for him, standing brazenly in the middle of the shower room, hands on hips, silver and blue hair wild and windswept from sitting in the stands on a breezy, Welsh coastal evening.

“Okay,” she says, immediately shielding her eyes with her hand and turning her back. “Maybe you should have stayed in there. Will you put some clothes on?”

He rolls his eyes and starts drying himself properly and getting dressed while she has her back turned. “I thought you wanted to know what’s going on,” he says.

“I do, but not from a-“ she waves a hand in his direction over her shoulder. “Half naked you.”

Albus almost smiles at that as he starts wriggling into his t-shirt. “I was in the shower, Delphi. What did you expect?”

Delphi shrugs. “Some improvements at least. Aren’t you supposed to have been working out? And your scars look- Anyway.” She holds both hands up and stops herself. “There was a Ministry official at our race. What was a Ministry official doing at our race?”

Albus pulls his jeans up and buttons them, then he leans against the wall behind him, water dripping from his hair onto his back, every inch of his clothes clinging to his damp body. “I don’t know,” he murmurs. “I wasn’t exactly expecting- Apparently this isn’t new. It was a final warning. Someone from my dad’s- you know- Someone from Magical Law Enforcement is supposed to be coming tomorrow if we haven’t disbanded by then. I don’t know how Law Enforcement will find us, but...”

“This is an absolute disaster,” Delphi says, turning to face him. “Coming back was an absolute disaster. I told you we shouldn’t do it. I told you it was a risk. We should go back to Europe tonight. To the Alps, or-“

“I don’t understand how it’s got like this,” Albus whispers, running a hand through his hair. It really is too long. He needs to shave it all off when he gets home. “It’s ridiculous, it’s- It wasn’t like this when we left.”

“No, but this is what it’s like now, so we need to leave,” Delphi says. “Tonight. We can Apparate down to the coast, and then across into France.”

Albus shudders at the thought of Apparating. “Tonight?” He asks.

“Yes,” Delphi says, with a nod, pacing up and down the centre of the room. “Tonight. And then-“

“We only just arrived,” Albus points out. “I want to go home.” Home. The thought of sleeping in his own bed for the first time in a year is all that’s kept him going through today. He’s exhausted. He wants his house, with his view, and his comfortable bed, and a bit of peace and quiet. “Can we stay put tonight?” He looks at her as imploringly as he can. “No one’s getting arrested for at least twelve hours. Maybe we should stay here for tonight and reassess in the morning.”

Delphi turns around on the spot, head tipped back, taking a very long, soothing breath. “Albus,” she says, and he flinches at the sound of his own name. “I want you to think about what you’ve just said. And I want you to consider the implications.” She turns to face him, eyes steel grey, with the dangerous edge of a knife to them. “The Department. Of Magical. Law. Enforcement. Is going to show up tomorrow and start tearing this league apart. I know you know what that could mean. For us. For you. So think very carefully about the decision you make now. That’s all I’m asking.” She smiles sweetly at him, and the silken honey softness of her voice returns to its normal bright lilt. “I’m worried about you, Sev.” She walks across to him and rubs his arm, giving him a sad little smile. “It’s dangerous here, especially for you. Don’t do anything stupid.”

He meets her eyes for a moment, then he straightens up and brushes past her, heading back towards the changing room so he can get his bags and his broom. “I’m going home,” he says. “I’m tired. I want to think. But don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I promise. We can decide what to do in the morning.”

He hears Delphi’s huff as she slumps against the wall behind him. “You still haven’t told me where home is,” she says. “How am I supposed to find you to talk if I don’t know where you live?”

Albus glances back at her. “You always find me. And I always find you. See you in the morning, Delphi.” He blows her a kiss as he leaves, and it’s a relief to pick up his bags and turn into darkness thinking of home.

Scorpius sits cross-legged on the sofa in the library, head bowed over his case files. The warmth of the fire crackling away just in front of him makes his cheeks feel raw, but he’d rather be too hot than too cold, and anyway, he’s concentrating too hard on his work to move.

He hardly hears the door creak open, or the careful footsteps moving across the bare floorboards, and when a hand settles on his shoulder he jumps. He flails his hands, and his papers go spilling out of the folder and all over the floor.

“I didn’t mean to make you jump,” Draco says, looking around at all the mess.

“Well,” Scorpius says, scrambling to draw his wand and clear everything up. “You still succeeded.” He looks up at his dad. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Draco holds up a mug. “I thought I’d bring up some hot chocolate.”

Scorpius sighs. “Okay. You’re forgiven for sneaking up on me.” He waves his wand and the papers fly into a jumbled up heap, which he catches and starts to reorder.

Draco sets the mug down on the table next to Scorpius and sinks onto the sofa beside him. “Are you still working?”

Scorpius nods, not looking up from his papers. They’re in a total mess now, and it’s difficult to tell what should be where. “I have to read these before tomorrow.”

“What’s happening tomorrow?” Draco asks, taking a sip of his own drink, which Scorpius can only assume isn’t hot chocolate.

“I’m being sent to tell off some people who keep breaking into Quidditch Stadiums and using them for illegal broom racing meets.” He rolls his eyes. “Games and Sports are sick of them, it’s not worth anyone else’s time in Law Enforcement, so I have to do it.” He flicks through the papers, decides it’s hopeless to reorder them by hand, and instead tries one of his fancier tricks. He taps his wand against one of the numbers at the bottom of the pages, then gives it a sharp flick, and the papers reshuffle themselves into order. A couple don’t have numbers at the bottom, so they stay at the top of the pile, but it’s better than nothing. He puts the pile on the table, picks up his mug of hot chocolate, and when he looks up he sees his dad is smiling at him.

“That’s a nice trick.”

Scorpius gives a twisted smile. “I’m getting good at filing.” He takes a sip of his chocolate. “It’s actually quite nice of them to let me out for once. It may be a dull job but at least I’m not chained to my desk while I’m doing it.”

“You’re too good for this job,” Draco says, looking at him. “Haven’t they realised that yet?”

Scorpius shrugs and looks down at his drink. “I don’t know...” He sighs. “I know it’s not very interesting, Dad, but at least it’s something. I wish it was the Department of Mysteries, or- But I’m not going to leave. I don’t know if anywhere else would take me.”

He glances up and sees that his dad’s expression has turned thunderous. His eyes are dark as heavy rain clouds, the anger flashing across his face as sharp as lightning. “Did you read the Prophet this morning?” He asks in a barely restrained whisper, with all the tension of static electric energy before it’s released.

Scorpius swallows. “I can’t stop reading the paper, Dad. I need to know what’s going on. One of my cases was mentioned, so I-“

“That paper is trash, Scorpius,” Draco says, leaning across and looking Scorpius right in the eyes. “Do you understand me? You shouldn’t believe a word of it, especially not what they say about you.”

Scorpius gives a placatory nod. “I agree that it devalues the real news a little bit, and-“

“A little bit?” Draco interrupts.

Scorpius holds a hand up. “More than a little bit. But I still need to know what they’re saying. Not about me, about everything else.”

“But-“

Scorpius groans, because he can’t believe they’re going to have this argument again. “Dad, I know the rumours aren’t true, okay? It’s not me you need to convince, it’s-“ He makes a small gesture towards the world at large and drops his hand into his lap, bowing his head. “It’s everyone else.”

Draco purses his lips and it looks like he’s struggling with himself. After several long seconds he shakes his head. “I should go and have words with Potter. He should give you a promotion. It’s the least he can do.”

Scorpius sets his mug down and gathers the papers back into his lap. “I’d rather earn it,” he says, knowing there’s no point arguing with his dad but wanting to say it anyway.

“I’m sure you already have,” Draco says.

Scorpius picks the first sheet off the top of the pile and examines it. It’s a profile on one of the racers, with a blurry photo attached. In the absence of any decent headshot, there’s a picture of the racer zooming through the photo like an arrow, too fast to catch any detail beyond the robes whipping behind him.

“These are the sorts of people I have to deal with tomorrow,” he says, in an attempt to change the subject. “This one’s called Sev. Just Sev. No one knows anything about him apart from the fact that he’s one of the best racers in the league.” He shakes his head. “Apparently he’s fearless, and the rumour is that he has nothing to lose... He sounds like an idiot.”

Draco smiles. “I think you’re more than a match for this Sev. Or any of the rest of them.”

Scorpius looks down at Sev’s photo, and sees him skid into the middle of the picture and pause mid-flight, looking around. The photo is taken from too far away to make much out, but Sev looks focused and sharp. The sleeves of his robes are rolled up to his elbows and Scorpius can just make out the curls and lines of tattoos running down his forearms. As he stares he can’t help but think that there’s something about that face that looks familiar, but before he has time to work it out, Sev is on the move again, zooming out of frame in the blink of an eye.

“Your mother took me to an illegal race meet once,” Draco says.

Scorpius almost drops his files again in amazement as he looks up and stares at his dad. “Did she?”

His dad nods. “She did.” There’s a reminiscent glint in his eyes. “It was our fourth date, I think. She liked the adrenaline of it. She never wanted life to be too slow, your mother. And I think she liked the thrill of breaking the rules.”

Scorpius grins. “Wasn’t she Head Girl at school?”

“Of course. I think that just made it worse.”

Scorpius laughs and hugs the files to his chest. He looks down at his knees and his smile fades. “Do you think it’ll be okay tomorrow?”

His dad looks at him sharply. “Of course I do. What are you worried will happen?”

Scorpius shrugs and ducks his head, pulling his knees up to his chest to make himself as small as possible. “I’m a bit scared that I’ll do something to mess it up, and they won’t let me do even the rubbish jobs that no one wants to do ever again.”

“You’re going to be excellent,” his dad says, and there’s so much certainty in his voice that Scorpius really believes him. “I have faith in you.”

Scorpius looks at him, and realises that he doesn’t even need to check if his dad really means it. “Thanks, Dad,” He says softly.

“Come here,” Draco says, beckoning to him.

Scorpius groans, but there’s no real reluctance as he sets the files down, crawls along the couch to curl up against his dad’s side, and allows himself to be wrapped in a warm hug. Twenty-four should probably be too old to live for his dad’s hugs, but it’s not. He still clings to each and every one because some days they’re all that are keeping him going.

His dad presses a kiss to his forehead and brushes his fingers through his hair. “Go and shine,” he murmurs.

Scorpius nods and hugs him back as tight as he can. “I will,” he says. “I promise.”

#Harry Potter and the Cursed Child #Cursed Child #Cursed Child fic #Scorbus fic #Scorbus #Scorpius Malfoy #Albus Severus Potter #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #HPCC fic #Keep The Secrets #My writing #Mine to Make #Mayhem to the nth degree #Here we go...

38 notes · View notes

hopefadeskg · 5 years

Text

Memes & Confessions

— At the dead of night, two idiots laid together and laughed about something completely stupid for minutes upon minutes. What were they laughing at, you might ask? A gecko. Jumping onto the camera from a ledge in an 8-second video.

pairing: polly amour x katsumi sakiya

word count: 850

genre: hype house au, fluff, drabble

a/n: don’t ask me. i was in the mood to write some fluff for our favorite couple so here we are. <3

also, i didnt exactly proofread this! It’s 4:20am rn (ay ;)) and i don’t have anyone to help me with writing or editing. im sorry if there are any mistakes!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The bittersweet scent of coffee filled the room as their bodies laid flush against one another, the blanket long forgotten and kicked off to the side of the bed as they figured that they provided enough warmth for each other. Katsumi laid between Polly’s legs and leaned back against his chest while he rested against the headboard of his bed, slim yet muscular arms wrapped around the singer’s petite frame to hold the small device in his hands before the two of them.

A song played from the speakers of the phone as they watched what was playing on the screen, the melody cutting off and repeating on a loop. Polly swiped to the next video as he rested his chin on Katsumi’s shoulder, taking in the sweet scent of roses. He smiled at the irony of it, it was practically perfect for her. SHE was practically perfect in his eyes.

He pulled her in closer to his chest and squeezed her with a blissful sigh, enjoying the way she melted into his embrace and trailed her fingers along his forearms to cup her palms over the back of his hands. A lazy, smile pulled at the brunette’s lips as he peered down at her with a lovestruck gaze.

The way her hair framed her delicate, doll-like face caused his heart to skip a beat. His eyes travelled over to her slightly parted lips, a peachy pink color that seemed to match the blush that warmed her smooth cheeks. The curve and dip of her button nose made a smile pull at the edges of his lips while he resisted the urge to poke the tip with his finger. Although all of this was heavenly and beautiful, what captured his attention the most were her eyes.

Beautiful, shining pools of violet that held kindness and love everytime they were directed to him. He loved how they darkened whenever she got protective of her friends, how they lit up every time a cute animal walked by. He even took notice of the way they would gloss over and shimmer just moments before she cried. Her eyes were like a violet galaxy and they held so much emotion within them. Even if she covered half of her face, Polly knew exactly how she felt and what she was thinking just by looking her in the eyes.

He moved one hand away from the phone and towards her face to cup her cheek, though was rudely interrupted when she tossed her head back with an obnoxious cackle. With confusion, Polly furrowed his brows and turned to look at his phone to see what exactly had stolen her attention and effectively cucked him from getting a kiss.

The moment his eyes landed on the screen, he couldn’t blame her for her reaction because he basically had the same exact one. Tossing his head back, he let out a loud laugh and ignored the dull pain of thumping his head on the headboard. His eyes were shut tightly as he replayed the image in his head.

A gecko was perched on top of a ledge, peering down at the camera and the moment the music had gotten dramatic it leapt down in slow motion. The sight alone was enough to send him into a fit of hysteria as he remembered the way its legs flailed around on the way down. He forced his eyes open to rewatch the video, only to close them again as he entered his second fit of giggles.

Katsumi was no better, having curled up and leaned off to the side on the bed, she was desperately trying to muffle her joyous reaction with the pillows they had strewn all over the mattress.

The two of them continued on like that for what seemed to be hours but in reality it was only a few minutes. Polly moved to hover over Katsumi after he calmed himself down, brushing her hair out of her face and cupping her cheek all while trying to stifle a snicker. She looked absolutely wrecked.

Hair messy, cheeks flushed red, and eyes full of tears from the strain of her laughter. Most would think she looked a bit funny, but all Polly saw was a goddess. The room soon fell into a comfortable silence again as they both stared each other down, one set of eyes holding awe and admiration while the other held confusion and curiosity.

Without a second of hesitation, Polly broke the silence.

“I love you.” He whispered out, eyes flickering down to her lips as they parted in a soft gasp. Worry pulled at his heart and he wondered if he had made a mistake. “I’m… sorry, I shouldn’t-” However, all plaguing thoughts were removed from his mind when she placed a soft hand on his face to cradle his cheek.

She let out a soft giggle, one that sounded as if she was relieved. Taking in a deep breath, she sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth for a moment before replying to his heartfelt confession.

“I love you too, Bunny.”

#hopegirls #hopegirlsau #hopefades #hopefadesau #hypehouse #hypehouseau #dangonronpa #dangonronpaocs #katsumi sakiya #polly amour #creative writing #original writing

1 note · View note

wilhelmjfink · 6 years

Text

“It’s Them” (2/3)

A/N: THIS HAS BECOME A THREE PARTER I’M SORRY I CAN’T STOP THIS PART WAS ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY TO THE STORY I LOVE YOU ALL I MADE A COVER PHOTO FOR IT AND EVERYTHING (source in my masterlist!!!)

I opted to post this part instead of Ch. 10 because...... well idk why just enjoy ~

thank you to my love crossbowking for editing it for me you’re an angel bby and i love you more than anything xoxo

It was hysteria. In every single sense of the word.

You felt like you were watching a movie — a zombie horror movie where everyone was turning and coming back to life, rising from the dead and eating random people as they tried to run or fight back. But it wasn’t a movie, and these weren’t strangers. You’d come to know these people, and the smoke and screams and smell of gunpowder and rotten flesh were far too real as it surrounded you, threatening to suffocate you where you stood.

You’d been most concerned about Carl, knowing how absent-minded Lori could be, for lack of a better term, and you were worried that she might’ve lost him amongst the chaos. You couldn’t afford to lose another child. Especially not so soon.

The horde had moved somewhere down the hill closer into the quarry and you could see them shifting direction after some of your group as they fled. Your machete was grabbed tightly in your hand and your eyes darted back and forth in search of a threat to find that no stray biters were around you and it was still despite the yells and gunshots that rung through the air.

You knew that if you had a chance at all you had to jump into the horde toward your crew to where the camper was as surely they were all going that direction to jump in and flee in it, Daryl leading the way on Merle’s bike.

But as you made it to the bottom of the hill breathlessly, you looked up just in time to see the headlights flick on as it peeled out of the dirt clearing and left you standing amongst the carnage and living dead as they turned and started shuffling slowly toward you.

“Hey,” Lola whispered harshly from behind you, just barely catching your attention. Disbelief? Shock? Fury? What were you feeling right now? So many different emotions were swimming through your head and it was mind-numbing, nauseating almost. You felt as though you should be mad at them — they left you, after all, didn’t they? And shit, they hadn’t even tried to call for you or even wait for you. They’d flat out abandoned you in the quarry, probably assuming you couldn’t handle yourself amongst the herd and died trying to fight your way out.

Well, the joke’s on them. Who was fighting for their lives now?

Negan suddenly rained Lucille down upon a man you didn’t recognize: a big, stocky, red-haired man. And he took it like a champ, too. The people surrounding him cried and yelled and you hardly flinched and it was because of that realization that you deducted just how furious you were at these people.

You just needed to keep moving. One foot in front of the other. Come on. Keep going. You’ll find something eventually. It had been days. Would you ever find anything? Or was the world as you knew it destroyed, human life ceasing to exist and the only lives left were the ones that had abandoned you in the crisis, giving up on you completely.

You thought you’d met some friends — good companions to have at the very least. You’d liked Dale. Rick and T-Dog And Glenn, too. And even the quiet one with the asshole for a brother — you’d liked both of them. They weren’t the nicest or the most modest people, but they were tough and knew how to survive. You had minimal knowledge on that, and it was showing as you wandered farther down the abandoned road, lips cracked and dry from dehydration, head pounding and legs ready to give out.

You’d thought it was a group of walkers approaching from far down the horizon, or maybe it was just a mirage; whatever it was, you couldn’t find the motivation or strength to even handle your machete. In fact, the timing had been perfect, as you stumbled into a pothole that caught and twisted your ankle, sending you harshly down to the hot concrete. And you stayed there.

If it was walkers that were nearing you, let them eat you. This was no way to live — running endlessly in search of food or water or shelter. Even if the world came back from this, it would never be the same, and it wouldn’t be soon, either. Everyone you knew was dead and you’d simply blocked that out when you thought you’d been surrounded by other like-minded survivors who felt like you and struggled like you but fought like you. And you were wrong. So what was the point of trying to survive when you had nothing to live for? Surviving wasn’t living. This life would be pitiful and worse than death.

“Damn, we got a fresh one here.”

“She ain’t dead, dumbass. Look at ‘er, for fuck's sake. Are ya blind?”

“You can’t be too careful anymore, man! They’re all comin’ back!”

“Shut the fuck up — both of you. Hey, there! Are you alright?”

You were sure the blazing hot sun was taking its toll on you as you lay in the middle of the road, literally frying like an egg. You couldn’t find the strength to reply. You were weak, tired, sore, sad. Your ankle hurt. You’d be crying if you could afford to lose any more water that your body didn’t have.

“Well, shit, maybe she is dead...”

Slowly, painfully, you pushed yourself upright. And the voices you heard went silent, replaced with cocking guns, all pointed at you in anticipation of you rising up to eat them alive. Three men. Your stomach dropped and for a brief moment, you wished that they’d been walkers instead.

“Shit, little lady.” The tall one in the middle lowered his weapon and smirked at you with the kind of look that would usually send you running the opposite direction. But you couldn’t find it in you to care anymore. You didn’t even have a gun to shoot yourself with if things did go south. “You look like you’ve been put through the wringer and spit the fuck back out.”

You felt like it. But you still didn’t speak.

“You still with me?” He took a step forward and you flinched, wanting so badly to be ready and able to run away if you needed to, but you knew it would be helpless to even try. “We won’t hurt you. I promise.”

You snorted in derision. Promised?

“Oh, good,” you finally croaked out, voice weak from underuse and unfamiliar to your own ears. “Well, since you promised, and all. Do you mind helping me up? I fucked up my ankle, I think.”

With wide eyes and raised brows, the loud one took another single, large stride toward you with an amused grin having replaced the sneer that had just been there. “God damn if I don’t love me a lady with some sarcasm!”

“Please,” you dismissed his attempt at what you assumed was flirting, considering how few women were left in the world and that they’d been lucky enough to stumble across you. “I'm hardly a lady.” As he knelt down next to you, so tall that he was still hardly eye-level even crouched next to you on the ground, the look faded to one of genuine concern; in fact, it was so genuine, that you were unsettled by it. The two others with him stood patiently behind where they’d stopped, back-to-back as they kept watch.

For being so intimidating and cocky, he was surprisingly gentle as his large hands softly prodded the swollen flesh around your ankle where it had already begun to turn purple. “Well, doll, something like this would have either one of those dumbasses crying in fetal position, and they are, in fact, definitely not ladies. You’re a tough-fuckin-cookie, aren’t you?”

You hadn’t noticed the nervousness you were experiencing had dwindled away into curiosity, the anomaly of a man in front of you both confusing and intriguing you with his behavior. You merely shrugged at his question. “Gotta be nowadays, I guess.”

The grin returned and his dark brown eyes lit up along with it — and it was then you had realized that he was actually kind of... handsome.

And he caught you staring, smiling even bigger with his somehow still perfectly white and straight teeth showing, dragging his tongue slowly across it as you averted your gaze back down to your injury.

“You sure as shit do, doll.” He gave you a once over and you found yourself feeling oddly self-conscious as if your filthy jeans, boots and black t-shirt with unkempt hair and days worth of dirt caked onto your skin had been your choice and not the product of wandering aimlessly by yourself, starving and dehydrated in the summer heat. “I’m gonna guess that by your current situation here that you don’t have a group or anything, do you?”

Everything in you had been screaming to lie but the idea of being with real, living people sounded so tantalizing that you couldn’t stop the ‘no’ from tumbling off of your tongue. He shook his head and frowned again. “You’re all on your own then?”

You nodded. “My last group, we’d been holed up at a camp for a while where we thought it was safe. It got overrun and...” you trailed off, not sure of what to say after having spent so much time blocking out the memories and the unapologetic anger that came with them. The stranger took it as a sign that you’d been through some trauma that you didn’t want to talk about.

“I get it. We’ve all lost people we cared...”

“No,” you immediately cut him off, not wanting him to think you weak and helpless. “Only a handful died that night. The others — they just left me.”

Your voice sounded bitter and cold and you embraced it, still furious about the group of people you’d surrounded yourself with, mad that you’d believed that they might have actually been good, honest people. You’d had a hunch that this world was quickly becoming dog-eat-dog in every sense of the phrase, but your naivety hadn’t let you believe it until you’d been proven that people couldn’t be trusted.

So why was this man hovering over you so interested in you and your story? There was always an ultimatum — especially with men. Even before the world turned to shit; but now more than ever.

“Well, shit, girl. I’ve seen some sad shit over the last couple of months, but that’s just fucked up.”

“Yeah,” you replied bluntly. “So, to answer your question, yes, I am all by myself. And I’ve made it this far, so I would say I’m doing just fine.”

You really hadn’t meant for it to be spat out so harshly but you couldn’t help the bitterness that was still lingering inside of you. The stranger seemed to appreciate it, if anything, and the cocky grin returned once again, and you found yourself jealous that he could smile so freely and so easily. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d laughed.

“I’d love to agree with you, but the pothole you’re sitting inside of tells me otherwise.”

He gestured to your ankle and you followed, almost forgetting about the throbbing injury for a minute, so overcome with rage and regret. He was absolutely right, though — you’d been doing fine but in your current state, you weren’t going to be very quick on your feet and on top of the constant threat of walkers strolling by, it was also getting dark.

“No offense, doll, but you look like shit.” You glared at him, but he continued before you could intervene. “We got a group holed up in a big old factory a few miles back. Women and kids. A doctor, too. I’m sure he’d be happy to look at that ankle of yours.”

As weary as you should’ve been, part of you so desperately wanted to believe it was true. You contemplated it and he noticed your hesitation. “I know, I know — three fine ass men stumble upon you laying in a pothole, starving to death, and take you back to a place with food and water and beds. Too good to be true right?”

You rolled your eyes, but let him continue.

“Well, it’s your lucky day, sweetheart, because it’s absolutely true.”

“What do you want from me?” You asked bluntly, the question having been in the back of your mind since the three happened to find you. You were worried that you’d be forced into a shitty situation with shitty people and that they would do things worse than kill you. But what choice did you have? You could lay there and get eaten alive or get discovered by a different, less charming group of men with different intentions. You were going to die anyway, so what difference did it make?

“Well, since you asked, things work a little bit differently there. We’re working on a system that keeps things going — just like before. You work, you earn. It’s that simple.”

“It’s never that simple,” you argued.

“Let’s be honest, doll. You’re worried that we’re gonna turn all Silence of the Lambs on you. And I get it, I do! But trust me when I say we have a zero tolerance policy for that shit. The first thing we established were rules. Rules are what separate us from the monsters.”

You sat silently as you took in his words. It seemed genuine enough and the mere thought had you willing to jump to your feet and run that direction. With a sigh, you nodded your head.

“Alright,” you said before remembering that you were unable to walk. “Can you help me stand?” Of course asking only frustrated you further, feeling helpless and pathetic. But the magnitude of your injury was already showing through puffy, bruised skin and, if you’d had any energy left, you were sure you’d be cursing because of the pain. But for then, you were fine with being too numb to feel it.

“I’ll do you one better,” the man said, straightening himself out with cracking knees and doubling back over to scoop you up from where you lay on the hard ground with an unintentional yelp of surprise. He spun around and swiftly began walking, beckoning for the two men to follow him back. It had been years since a man had carried you like that — wounded or otherwise.

“Oh, what the fuck, where are my manners?” The man suddenly said, interrupting your daydreaming. “I haven’t even introduced myself. My name’s Negan. What’s yours?”

#the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #negan #the walking dead negan #negan fanfiction #negan x reader #negan imagine #negan drabble #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead drabble #jeffrey dean morgan #twd #twd negan

30 notes · View notes

austinonymous · 6 years

Text

Steampunk Snippet

A bit of a deviation from my usual stuff, this is an excerpt from a longer story I was writing and never finished. Set in an alternate world at the end of its age of steam-powered technology and moving onwards towards modern tech, it follows the main character, Jeannot, and his sister as they arrive at the Isles as members of the crew of a Greatship. There he meets the son of the noble in charge of the Isles, Bastiaan.

This snippet is from shortly after they meet and Bastiaan takes him to the Royal Botanical Gardens to talk without his parents and their staff around.

I only lightly edited it from its first draft so beware, mistakes may lie ahead.

I hope you all enjoy it!

Bastiaan sighed, a smile on his face as he leaned his head back and looked at the glass ceiling of the hall, up to the sun far above them. Jean twitched a bit, unsure of how to act around the Archduke’s son. He knew he had essentially agreed to sit here when he hadn’t resisted much when he was dragged off by the other boy- how could he?

In hindsight however, he wasn’t sure this was the best idea. The nobility had a tendency to be quite stuck up and haughty, and Jean wasn’t sure he wanted to do something and unknowingly insult someone like that. Nor deal with their bull either in all honesty. Jean’s thoughts were quickly brought to a halt as Bastiaan looked over at him.

“What is it like Jeannot? To be on the sea and to feel the rock of the ship under your feet with the cool breeze caressing your heated brow?” The Earl said with a sigh. “I wish I could be out on the water more. To travel on a Greatship must be exhilarating!”

Jeannot shrugged a bit, biting his lip for a moment before answering, “Greatships don’t really rock; they’re too large to do that unless it was the worst of conditions. They’re also very hot on the inside due to the steam- but you’re right that the breeze is quite welcome,” he agreed; the upper decks were the favorite place for him and his fellow monkey wrenches to hide.

He continued onwards with his comment, “Then again sir, it might be a bit dingy for nobility like yourself. Maintenance is an absolute chore, you know, and even with a full staff we’d have difficulty keeping it clean,” Jean continued.

Bastiaan laughed, “Nonsense! It’s not like I’m nobility, I’m as much a commoner as you.” At Jean’s surprise, the young man quickly elaborated. “My father is the Duke of Vaans and the Earl of Gless. However, as I own neither land nor title I am no noble. I am only allowed to use the title by courtesy.”

Jeannot was a bit surprised by both the new knowledge of how the noble system worked in the Isles but also by the lack of frustration or indignation in Bastian’s voice. Perhaps it was just his bias after seeing the nobles of his home country, but he expected some resentment from the Earl.

As the conversation lulled into temporary, but comfortable, silence Jean looked around him. The Earl had dragged him to the Royal Botanical Gardens, which lived up to the impressive name. The central hall, arcing ever upwards, was massive! It had to be at least three or four levels high, with great creeping vines and trees penetrating the balconies that made up the upper levels. Exotic plants from across the islands filled the room with a scent that was nigh overwhelming at first exposure, especially for someone like Jean who was just used to the smell of ash and oil.

Come to think of it, when he was brought in, Bastiaan had led him to a bench in the middle of the hall quickly as if knowing he’d be overwhelmed by the stimulus. It certainly explained the floral tones surrounding the boy if he was used to this; Jean couldn’t imagine the amount of the time he must spend here to get that scent stuck to him!

Given how close the gardens were to the manor though, Jean in hindsight wasn’t honestly too surprised. It was a nice place to hang out- on the whole, the building was pleasant, despite the massive amount of sunlight that was required to let the plants grow. It warmed the entire place up almost as bad as the great metal hull of the Greatship. When he mentioned his observation to the Earl, Bastiaan’s eyes lit up.

“Its absolutely marvelous isn’t it! They use spring water to cool down the air- running the pipes through the natural spring this place was built over, of course,” Bastiaan said excitedly, “They use great billows to suck in the air and circulate it. This is one of the few buildings in the gardens that get that system but it’s a wondrous coolant for a wondrous environment!”

Jean was a bit astounded by the elaborate system in place to keep simple plants cool. The value they must hold for these plants for such an extensive system to be installed, “Are these rare plants? It seems like an expensive system for something as simple as a plant.”

The Earl shook his head, “No no, these aren’t that rare. Very few places have them in the same area, admittedly, but individually they aren’t. But that’s the wonder of this place, if you want my humble opinion on the matter.”

Jean looked at Bastiaan curiously, shifting a bit in his spot on the bench. He lived in a place of steel. He wasn’t around things like this to see whatever hidden beauty that the Earl had found. The dark-haired boy brightened as Jean sat up a bit straighter, seemingly excited to share his revelation.

“Its like humans Jeannot- We are reflected in these plants. Some are humble shoots, others are brightly colored and delicate, yet they are all plants. Individually they are not much to look at; but humanity, like these plants, can do absolutely wondrous things together,” He said finishing.

Jeannot looked at Bastiaan with wide eyes, having been caught off-guard by the sudden change in topic from plants to people. Perhaps it was just what naturally happened when you were holed up amongst the flowering shoots for so long, “I didn’t fancy you a philosopher.” A little red appeared on the other boy’s cheeks as he sheepishly grinned.

“You learn to do that when you’re alone in a place like this. It’s one of the few places where I could get some peace from the hustle and bustle of noble life.” Bastiaan said with a sigh, “Plus learning to become a ruler of the people sometimes draws out parallels and ideas in my head I hadn’t even considered till let alone to myself. It is good to take a moment to collect yourself after a long day getting stuffed full of useless manners and information.”

Jean frowned and brushed his blond locks out of his face, a bit confused, “You sound unhappy about that, like becoming a ruler is a bad thing.” The Earl’s head was leaning back again as if this was something he’d argued with himself many times.

Bastiaan let out a sigh, “Frankly it isn’t. You get a large manor with a stable income and servants for your every whim. Life couldn’t be simpler,” He said, sarcastically to himself.

Jean didn’t speak up. The other boy obviously was frustrated with someone who told him he should have it easy.

“It should be! I’m pampered compared to many! But,” he ran a hand through his hair, “You’re a Fulcian correct?” Jean nodded though he made it clear he hadn’t seen his homeland in years. Bastiaan waved it aside.

“I was engaged to the princess of the Fulcian throne when we were both young, too young to really know what that meant or even care. But because of that whole contract, which was never broken, I could be considered to have been next-in-line to the throne after the princess as the King had no other children. Even if indirectly, I hold claim to the throne that your Emperor took from her in his coup de’tat.” Bastiaan rubbed his head, “I worry we will be invaded to eliminate me.”

Jean’s head shot up as he stared wide-eyed at the young nobleman, “That’d never happen-!”

“Jeannot! It very well could! I could be seen as a rallying point for other monarchies who are desperate to stop the Fulcian expansion. It would make sense for the Emperor to kill me to secure a strategic and political victory.”

Jean wasn’t sure what to say. He certainly hadn’t expected to see the Earl so vulnerable so quickly. It wasn’t too hard to do, but Jean correctly guessed Bastiaan hadn’t spoken about this with nearly anyone and thus wasn’t sure how to react.

Thankfully, to his relief, Bastiaan pulled himself from his temporary hysteria on his own and with far more dignity and self-control than Jean could ever muster, “I’m sorry, that was out of line. It’s not even so much that I fear for my own life. I fear for the people. Wars are messy, but no one here would even think of giving me up to them to stop an attack. They would fight till the city burned and none were left to defend it.”

It was a melancholy mood that descended over the two as they sat there. Now, the garden’s wonder seemed all the more fragile, and all the more an indicator of how much could be lost to the world if Bastiaan’s fear rang true.

#my fic #myficlet #My writing #My Story #steampunk #my work #original story #drew inspiration from Leviathan

4 notes · View notes

consttellatio · 8 years

Text

Daughter of Triton (Hook x Mermaid!Reader)

Synopsis: You’d never met a man that fought against you like that, nor one that was so hell bent on saving his crew.

A/N: First time writing a one shot/imagine and also first time writing for OUAT, maybe my last time as well but who knows? Hope you enjoy! Inspired by the Little Mermaid, I do know she’s in the show but I couldn’t resist my own interpretation, it’s only slightly hinted that you’re the little mermaid but nothing heavy!

Warnings: Small mention of death and blood but nothing gory or extreme, reader is described as female in one line but if that’s a problem message me I can easily edit and change the line to something gender neutral. :)

The wave rolled in slowly against the shore, barely making a small hiss as it rolled back into the ocean blue. You extended your hand out feeling the softness of the sand, still damp from the retreating tide. You gave a low sigh, you had thought tonight would have been a lot more entertaining.

The sandy beach across from you was lit up by hundreds of different lanterns. Two teenagers raced past, your eyes chased both the lights and them. A gust of wind swept after them and the lights flickered, threatening to blow out. Lanterns and bells had also now been hung to warn humans of the untameable shore.

And of you and your sisters.

The lanterns were lit like stars against an inky black sky. Looking up, a small smile came to your face knowing that sailors would have trouble finding their way on a night like this. A ripple ascended in the water and you turned to find your sister waiting.

“Where have you been?” she seethed. Pushing yourself off the rock you were resting on, you followed her as you dived under the shore.

“What happened?” You asked. Your sisters scarlet tail nearly slammed you in the face as you both charged forward.

“A pirate ship made its way here,” Attina explained and then grabbed your hand, nails digging in as she dragged you forward. You both broke through the surface to a circle of rocks. Andrina rested against a rock waiting. She gave a cold glare that sent shivers down your spine.

“Where were you? It’s already begun!” You looked at the ship that was heading your way to the sharp jagged rocks. By the looks of it, your sisters had done a good job, although chaos soon seemed to be breaking out on deck.

You were the youngest of Triton’s daughters and his favourite too. Triton ruled these waters under an iron fist, sailors like the ones who were coming in now were unlucky to meet the wrath that he had passed on to his daughters.

“We’ve already begun to sing,” you heard your sister hiss. You noticed your sisters hiding their tails behind rocks giving the illusion that they were shipwrecked maids in need of saving. The trick was to cry first and then sing to lure them. Your sister's argued that all men loved to play hero, and what better men to play it with than the ones who hadn’t seen a woman in months?

The song was overpoweringly melodic, yet there was no seduction, only sadness and grief laced in their words. More pirates joined the weak and clung over to the edges of the ship to catch a glimpse of them. The melody mesmerised the sailor’s entire being.

“You can’t steer or go off course without asking Hook!” One man shouted.

Screw Hook, you thought to yourself, come to us.

“Who changed our course?” A man who you assumed was the Captain entered. “We’re supposed to be going North.”

“Look,” pointed the man with a red hat, “castaways.”

Your sister's dramatically flung their hands out to the man named Hook and let tears roll down their faces. He stared them down for what seemed like forever before turning around to his crew.

“Those aren’t castaways,” he yelled, “those are sirens.”

Wrong. An easy mistake yet you felt yourself huff at the name. There are no more sirens around these parts, you wanted to shout back, your kind killed them all.

“Come on you fools,” the Captain yelled at his crew. You grinned, knowing they had no clue that you had four more sisters in the sea circling their boat. One by one they appeared, bobbing their heads above water, waving to the men above and motioning for them to come join. One man jumped, and your sister kissed him before giggling and shortly dragging him down to the depths of the water with her. Crimson then dyed the deep blue and you swore you could hear his screams through the waves.

To your excitement, hysteria broke out on the deck. The captain struggled with control over the ship as more and more men fought him to steer. The men that didn’t fight had either been tied to the ship, not wanting their weak will to compromise their crew’s safety, or went overboard, flocking towards your sisters.

“How come they get all the fun?” Andrina grumbled watching another sister drag down more men. “Keep singing,” Attina commanded.

The ship came at a wild speed towards you and havoc raged across the deck. A lantern had crashed in the chaos and scorching flames broke out and caught hold of the flag. You found yourself watching the Captain as he pulled out a sword and began hacking at his own men. He began making his way across the deck and you wondered in curiosity at what he was doing.

He reappeared without his sword and you grinned, knowing he had given up.

Except, he hadn’t. Instead, he emerged with a bow and arrow, and then aimed directly at your sister’s heart. You felt yourself hiss, fangs emerging and your sister only narrowly missing the arrow. You went to charge forward before an arm held you back.

“It’s too late,” Attina then grinned, “he’s lost.”

Your sister was right. The ship creaked dangerously as a wave thrust them forward directly into the rocks in front of you. You dived yourself into the sea, only staying long enough to hear the wood of the ship splinter and crack along with the screams of men. The water was cold, but as you grabbed hold of a young sailor only a few years older than you and dragged him down screaming, you barely felt it.

-o-

The waves rolled in again and again the next morning. Sitting at the same rock pool you had been at the night before, you played with the stash of treasure you had found from the wreckage. Medallions and trinkets were all you could find that were worth saving, for a pirate ship they had travelled lightly.

One of the lockets you had pocketed had leaves engraved onto it, a topaz gem laid in the centre. You rolled your thumb across it, underneath the sunlight it glittered almost as bright as the ocean. A loud cry came from a seagull above and you dropped it into the pouch which held the others.

Looking across the sandy beach you were opposite from, you tried searching for the bird. Instead, you found a boot. Curious as to where its owner could be, you slid yourself across the rock to explore. Reaching it, you found it full of sand and guessed it had been chucked out to be taken off to sea.

Plucking a pebble from rocks, you began throwing them across the beach wanting to hear them sink into the sand. On your fifth throw, there was a sharp thud.

Your head snapped up and found your stone had encountered a body laying across the beach. Fear spread through you, paralysing you as you worried that you had knocked a human out. You twisted a pebble through your fingers and waited for him to move. The sun glared down harshly, sweat breaking out on your back. He stayed still. After several more waves and cries from the gulls above, you dragged yourself onto the sand.

You had never been this far from the sea before as you dragged your tail behind you. Grabbing a piece of driftwood, you gently began to poke him, pleading for him to move. When he didn’t, you made the decision to go closer.

Once you tilted his head to face you, you were relieved at the recognition that filled you. It was the Captain of the ship you had brought down that laid before you. You checked his pulse and waited until you felt a small, dull thump beneath your fingers. He was alive… barely.

He took a sharp breath and you jumped, panicking at the idea of being on your own with a human. He sputtered and coughed, heaving up seawater. To your relief, he closed his eyes again, not moving, and you stayed there.

Suddenly, you became strangely conscious of the man in front of you. His hair was dark, almost black and his skin pink and burnt under the sun. When you came to think about it, he was quite handsome. Tilting his head again, you found the stubble on his cheeks tickled you, but forgot about it instantly as you realised how warm he was.

You sighed, knowing what you had to do. Grabbing a few of the pebbles you had thrown his way, you calculated your aim at the bells surrounding the lanterns. Your first throw was weak and missed by a mile. Your second was better, but not good enough. On your third one, your reward was a large dong of the bell alerting everyone nearby. After a few chimes, you tore the jacket he wore from him and rested it over his head to prevent the sun from burning him anymore until someone came.

Moving away, you went to give his hand a tight squeeze in parting, but instead found a solid metal hook. The sounds of humans drawing nearer made you dive away before you could even question it. Surfacing, gasping again and again, you hid behind the rock pool, watching the scene play out.

Resting your head on the rock, you watched as villagers crowded around him. Staring at a serving girl’s bare legs, you felt yourself comparing your own tail which swirled in the water. The man woke up again spluttering, then searching wildly around.

“There was a girl,” he said as the villagers tried to get him to calm down. “She was right here!” Your heart sunk and you curled behind the rocks, praying to every sea God that he didn’t remember who you were.

“There’s no one here, my boy,” said an elderly man. “How did you end up here?” Looking around the shore dazed, he settled on leaving the subject of you behind. “My ship was wrecked during the storm last night.”

“King Triton must have been angry,” you heard a girl say. No, you thought as you clutched onto your pouch, but his daughters were. “No,” he said, his words soon dripped with hate. “There were sirens.” The old man laughed.

“You must have hit your head,” he chortled, “there are no sirens, we hunted them all.” “But there were women,” he argued. “It must have been Merpeople,” a young girl giggled, teasing him. You poked your head up again and watched as they helped him make his way up to the stone path.

“I’ll prove it you, I’ll find them.” “And if they do exist, what then? Kill them?” There was a momentary pause before he and the old man looked back at the shore.

“Aye, maybe something like that.”

The seagull circling above seemed to be mocking as you, not for the fact that you didn’t take the opportunity to kill him when you had the chance, but for the fact you couldn’t help wondering if his eyes were the same colour as the sea you suddenly felt restrained to.

A/N: Shall I write a part 2? Some response would really be appreciated as well :)

#once upon a time #ouat #hook #captain hook #killian jones #hook x reader #ouat imagine #ouat one shot #hook imagine #captain hook imagine #captain hook one shot #killian jones imagine #mermaid #the little mermaid

52 notes · View notes

hadrongospeltranscripts · 6 years

Text

Ep. 2- Fright N’ Roll Night Rock

[Short upbeat tune]

Electronic Voice: Hadron Gospel Hour

[Rift sound effect]

Mike: Good morni— good evenin— uh, good whatever it is, folks.

A.S.H. Le: Good times, Mike.

Mike: I guess that’ll work. Let me just say that my latest adventure in the rift has spawned a bounty of candy wealth [wrapper crinkling] unseen since the Halloweens of my youth. Oh, and I got Esmeralda’s fragment, here.

A.S.H. Le: That brings the total fragments retrieved to two hundred and thirty.

Oppenheimer: Not bad for two months work, well done Michael.

Mike: Thank you, thank you. So, A.S.H. Le, how many fragments are left?

A.S.H. Le: Approximately 2.5 trillion.

Mike: [sighs] ‘Kay, well, um, perhaps you’d like to sample the spoils of my Halloween haul, doctor.

[crinkling]

Oppenheimer: What’s this then? Some corporate branded, bite sized conglomeration of guar gum and red number five, I gather? I’m going to put these through the particle scanner.

[crinkling]

Mike: I beat my personal best of ten pounds of candy. This last rift jumped proved to be very trick or treat friendly, no one around. Just empty neighbourhoods full of unoccupied houses with bags of candy on every porch. I also found this cool eighties van with the keys still in it [three beeps], hopped in, and just went to town.

A.S.H. Le: Congratulations Mike.

Mike: Thanks, A.S.H. Le

Oppenheimer: Hm. No doubt the jubilant rush immediately following the arrival of your most recent personal triumph muffled the most obvious of questions.

Mike: Wh-What d’you mean? Where the people were? Long gone, most likely. But the candy, I knew I could save the candy.

Oppenheimer: Care to share the results of the scan, A.S.H. Le?

A.S.H. Le: A compressed oxygen and carbon based substance consisting of water, proteins, lipids, appetite, complex carbohydrates, and a hearty mixture of dissolved inorganic ions.

Mike: Well I could have told you that.

Oppenheimer: People, Michael. You were about to eat people.

Mike: Gah! What? Are they alive?

A.S.H. Le: Negative. It would appear the hadron affect in that particular location had somewhat different resulting set of quantum mutations.

Mike: Moral dilemma averted, then. Jeez, I think I would have preferred razor blades, or pins in my mounds bars.

A.S.H. Le: Don’t be silly, Mike, everyone knows that was just mass hysteria, like the Salem Witch Trials and the Segway.

Mike: What’s on the agenda professor?

Oppenheimer: Precisely nothing, it would seem. 57 million timelines and nothing’s on. I would have previously thought this statistically impossible, but here I sit...

Mike: That can’t be true.

Oppenheimer: Broken hearted.

Mike: You should give your eyes a rest. And you potential poetry debut, maybe let that one cook for a while. Uh, what’re hoping to find anyway with this?

Oppenheimer: This marvellous device is a rift diactualator, a sort of decoder for the multifaceted nature of the rift that has torn countless realities asunder. Not unlike chat roulette. You see Michael, to the untrained eye this densely complicated visual code most likely appears to be nothing more than just that, random code written in a long forgotten language of probable alien origin.

[brief static]

Mike: That sort of looks like the Eiffel Tower to me...

Oppenheimer: Over the years I have stared endlessly into the static, interpreting, translating...

[brief static]

Mike: That’s probably the moon on fire...

Oppenheimer: And eventually seeing it for what it really was.

[brief static]

Mike: And that is definitely a heard of cattle with baseball caps on their heads.

Oppenheimer: Hm, well, it would seem that you, too are gifted with the sight. Although, I more recently see it as somewhat of a curse.

Mike: Can I browse through for a while?

Oppenheimer: By all means.

Mike: [brief static] There’s some sort of acrobat marathon, [brief static] this looks like a bunch of zombies in a supermarket… [brief static]

Oppenheimer: Yes, yes, typical rift fare.

Mike: Volcano eruption, [brief static] rioting, [brief static] oh there’s a cat with glasses… [brief static]

Oppenheimer: Far to much of that.

Mike: Woah, what have here?

[A weird noise starts, not unlike rushing water, but more threatening and gargle-y. It continues as the guys talk]

Oppenheimer: The horror! Quickly Michael, do not gaze upon such an abomination, my eyes be damned!

Mike: Well that reaction was unexpected. Are we both looking at the same thing?

Oppenheimer: I fear that should you continue on this fools course that only madness lie ahead for you! This creature is an indescribable monstrosity!

Mike: I wouldn’t say that is was… indescribable.

Oppenheimer: Of course it is. The focus of all that is pure evil in unbound space and time, how could one describe such a thing? A thing that should not be!

[Oppenheimer makes scared yelps and exclamations as Mike talks]

Mike: Well, I guess I’d start by saying that he’s like a three hundred foot headless, winged, humanoid creature, with a squid-like head, hundreds of tentacles protruding from where the mouth would normally be, it looks like he’s got a bunch of tentacles on his back… he’s covered in ooze… I would say there’s definitely an ocean theme going on.

Oppenheimer: Spare yourself, Michael, your mind must be moments from death!

[More noises from Oppenheimer]

Mike: Massive clawed hands… He got a tunic, or remnants of a tunic, which really isn’t— well, it’s not doing anything for the ooze. [Oppenheimer falls silent] It’s okay, relax, it’s just a code right, just a viewer? This things best attribute, it can’t see us at all. [Mike pauses and the creature’s noises get louder] Okay, he’s looking at us. Well, that was fun while it lasted.

[Theme song starts]

Intro: In the year 2008, in a secret underground lab beneath the large hadron collider, Dr. Oppenheimer Valdini was experimenting with a way to weaponize the so-called “hadron effect” and create the most destructive force ever known to mankind. A freak accident caused the hadron weapon to misfire, tearing a rift in the fabric of space-time, remaking our world and the parallel timelines of the multiverse into an infinite succession of horrors. Mike Wilkinson, I.T. guy by day and indie filmmaker by night was snatched from his world, and thrust into a terrifying dimension of madness and pseudoscience. Now, Oppenheimer and Mike roam the multiverse, chronicling the end of all that is, desperately trying to find a way to heal the rift and restore order to the timeline the only way they know how: by hosting a podcast.

[Theme music intsteifies]

Hadron Gospel Hour! Written by Michael McQuilkin and Richard Wentworth. Starring Richard Wentworth, Michael McQuilkin, Lisa McQuilkin, Michael Atkinson, and Wendy MacLean. With special guest star, John Mikl Thor.

And now, the hour has arrived! Hadron Gospel Hour!

[Theme song ends]

[Faint alarm sounds in background throughout scene]

A.S.H. Le: Imminent structural damage. The bunker will be compromised shortly.

Mike: So this is like a panic room, right? The safest part of the ship— uh, base— uh, what is this thing we’re in again?

Oppenheimer: No, no, nothing like that, I just needed a chance to gather my thoughts. Figure out the best course of action and preserve the integrity of the bunker.

Mike: Let me see if I can find the light… Okay, this is a closet.

Oppenheimer: Well, it’s more of a storage alcove, actually. With a door.

Mike: Let’s see… Shoes, tie rack, hanging jackets here next to my face. Yeah, I’m sticking with closet.

Oppenheimer: Michael, please! I need to think.

Mike: Well doesn’t this… vessel have any sort of defence mechanisms? Electrify the hull or something?

Oppenheimer: Of course! Defence mechanisms! Brilliant Michael.

Mike: Hey, that’s what I’m here for apparently.

Oppenheimer: A.S.H. Le! A.S.H. Le!

A.S.H. Le: Yes, professor?

Oppenheimer: Engage any and all bunker defence mechanisms immediately. [pause] A.S.H. Le?

Mike: This building-house has defence mechanisms, right?

Oppenheimer: Of course it does, though I’ve never had the need to use them prior. A.S.H. Le is an advanced A.I. bunker control entity, capable of handling billions of commands simultaneously. A.S.H. Le!

A.S.H. Le: Thank you for using the light edition of Automated Servitor Heuristics. To unlock advanced features such as exporting Automated Servitor Heuristic to popular formats, defence capabilities, and being able to listen to Automated Servitor Heuristic on your portable devices, please visit the Umbra Digital website at h-t-t-p-colon… [A.S.H. Le fades out as Mike and Oppenheimer talk]

Mike: You still haven’t updated? How many months has it been since Crystalos? Or that kerfuffle on Meatlantis, didn’t we talk about this?

Oppenheimer: Well Michael, let’s not argue on the merits of frugality at a time like—

Mike: Merits of frugality?!

Oppenheimer: Do you have any idea how much a custom artificial intelligence like A.S.H. Le costs, Michael? I could barely afford the lite edition!

Mike: Oh.

Oppenheimer: And furthermore, I certainly wasn’t going to start with an experimental A.I. prototype without some intense bench testing!

Mike: Well, I look forward to reading that report. Oh, no, wait. Wait a minute, I won’t be able to read anything, I’m about to die!

Oppenheimer: Now now, let’s rectify this immediately. They’ve provided a link to their website, we can upgrade right now and be done with it. To the server room!

[Rift sound effect]

[There’s still a constant alarm in the background, but it’s less faint now]

Mike: Jesus, I’ve never seen it so red-lit and smoke-filled in here.

Cyrus: Oh hey guys! Kinda noisy all of a sudden. Anything I can help with?

Oppenheimer: Yes, excellent. [muttering] “Anything I can help with”… Seriously.

Mike: Hi Cyrus, uh, we’ve got a bit of a problem that we need to rectify at the server room so…

Cyrus: Mike, Mike, I understand. you’ve got your priorities right now, I get it. You don’t need tot make time out of your busy schedule to set my mind at ease, that’s on me. I shouldn’t be putting that on you—

Mike: Uh, good, good. That’s great, Cyrus, I appreciate it.

Cyrus: Stuck in a wall or not, I understand how difficult it can be dealing with what life throws at you.

Mike: Great.

Cyrus: I used to fret about being late for things, the hustle and bustle of life in the city. I’d ask myself, I’m I doing enough? Have I maximized my potential? Did I tell everyone that needed to hear it that I loved them?

A.S.H. Le: Hull breached. Alien entity has morphed its shape and entered the bunker.

Mike: Cyrus—

Cyrus: I’d be in the supermarket, just doing a thing everyone has to do, but I’d be think about the fifty places I should be at the same moment. Multitask, multitask! Never appreciate—

Mike: I know exactly what you’re saying, let’s continue this at a later—

Cyrus: Of course, I don’t have any of those conflicts now. Fused to the wall, hopelessly immobile.

Mike: Okay, that’s my cue!

Cyrus: Look, trust me, I get it, godspeed. I envy you in a way!

[Alarm gets faint again]

Oppenheimer: Took you long enough, Michael. I told you about that man in the hall, quite the talker. Can’t give him a minute or you’ll be there all day. Anyway, come here. This terminal should do the job. Here’s the link, [typing sounds] and here we are loading and… Hm. Strange minimalistic design on their homepage, I can’t seem to locate the purchase.

Mike: That says “404 page not found”. Is there even such a thing as the internet out here?

Oppenheimer: Damn. Apparently not. Interesting, it’s been said the internet could survive a nuclear war what with all its redundant routes— mesh digital and analog conduits— but a single blast from the hadron canon seems to have put it on ice. Looks like the multiverse wasn’t the only casualty of the grim flame of my genius.

Mike: [clears throat] Professor, I’m as big a fan of irony and hubris as the next guy, but uh…

Oppenheimer: I’m going to try to reset A.S.H. Le and get her back online at least. Let’s see, um… Ah! There we go. A.S.H. Le? [typing sounds]

A.S.H. Le: I am here, professor. Would you like me to further research the merits of frugality for you?

Oppenheimer: I see, your programmers hobbled the defensive capabilities in their lite edition but had the foresight to make sure the sarcastic humour component was fully functional? What I wouldn’t give to shake their sweaty little hands right at this—

[pause]

Cyrus: Hey fellas?

Mike & Oppenheimer: Yeah?

Cyrus: There’s a guy here. In the hallway. With me.

Mike & Oppenheimer: Oh yeah?

Cyrus: Yeah. He’s just sort of… glaring at me.

Oppenheimer: Cyrus, try not to make eye contact.

Mike: Yeah, you don’t wanna be rude. [Cyrus’ muffled voice speaks in the background] We need to get out of here and, I don’t know, escape to the rift.

Oppenheimer: Every cell in my body seems to burn with the knowledge that we cannot escape this entity’s whim.

[Cyrus continues to have a muffled conversation with the creature]

Cyrus: Hey guys?

Mike & Oppenheimer: Yeah?

Cyrus: He’s done talking.

Oppenheimer: A.S.H. Le! Activate all bunker screens and play the tapes!

A.S.H. Le: [sighs] Rewinding.

Mike: No way.

Oppenheimer: To hell with hat A.S.H. Le, play it now!

A.S.H. Le: Tape rewound. Playing.

[Rift sound effect]

[Instrumental music plays]

Narrator: Tepid Fall to Derbiton Gallow.

[music fades out. Sounds of raindrops and a crackling fire play under the conversation]

Unnamed British Guy: Everything in order then?

Clancy Havenpush: It would appear so.

Unnamed British Guy: I trust Mrs. Sharpshire was helpful in getting your arrangements completed this morning?

Clancy Havenpush: That she was.

Unnamed British Guy: Splendid.

Clancy Havenpush: Her uncanny heart and candid nature are somewhat unexpected in these ghastly times, though no less appreciated.

Unnamed British Guy: [sighs] I long for the halcyon days…

Clancy Havenpush: As do I.

Unnamed British Guy: I’ll be sure to deliver your kind words.

Clancy Havenpush: See to it that you do.

Unnamed British Guy: Of course, my word is as good as my bond.

Clancy Havenpush: Lovely.

[pause]

Unnamed British Guy: And so… it has come to pass.

Clancy Havenpush: Victoria?

Unnamed British Guy: I’m afraid so.

Clancy Havenpush: Damn.

Unnamed British Guy: Indeed.

Clancy Havenpush: And… Emma as well, I presume.

Unnamed British Guy: Alas. [pause] I hear tell of delays on the roads to Derbiton, you’d do well to seek an alternate route.

Clancy Havenpush: One might suggest you do the same, perhaps… less Derbiton and more so the geography of the human soul.

Unnamed British Guy: A penny for your thoughts.

Clancy Havenpush: You can keep your beleaguered charity.

Unnamed British Guy: Monstrous cad!

[pause]

Clancy Havenpush: Well then, I suppose I’ll be off.

Unnamed British Guy: Will you?

Clancy Havenpush: Won’t I?

Unnamed British Guy: Would it surprise you were I to say you were?

Clancy Havenpush: My word is as good as—

Unnamed British Guy: I hear tell of candlelit whispers in the night to the contrary.

Clancy Havenpush: Feind!

Unnamed British Guy: Listen hear, old boy, I dare say—

Clancy Havenpush: You daren’t!

Unnamed British Guy: Now look here, look here now! Do I detect a hint of resentment in your tone?

Clancy Havenpush: Your senses do not fail you.

Unnamed British Guy: You are Percy Clavenook of Torpenville Hallow, are you not?

Clancy Havenpush: Heavens no, the name is Clancy Havenpush of Hyperpudding Vale.

Unnamed British Guy: Sir, you must forgive me for this, my most grievous of errors. How thoughtless of me. Never have I known the depths of such shame. Were I in the possession of a sword I would surely fall upon it with quickness.

Clancy Havenpush: Uh, think nothing of it, noble innskeep.

Unnamed British Guy: Oh, I-I don’t work here.

[Instrumental music plays again]

Narrator: On the next Tepid Fall to Derbiton Gallows

[Poor piano playing while a woman sings the word “la” a lot]

Posh Woman: You frightful cow.

[The singing woman cries]

[Rift sound effect]

[Ambient crowd noise in the background]

Gary's Friend: Hey Gary, you see that game last night?

Gary: Uh, which one?

Gary's Friend: Seriously, the big one, World Series.

Gary: Oh, that. What I don’t understand is, how can they call it The World Series if only one county is in it.

Gary's Friend: Hmmmm, never really thought of that, hell of a game though.

Gary: How come? Did they use something besides bats this time?

Gary's Friend: No, but— Hey, that reminds me of a joke! This guy goes to the doctor, he says—

Gary: The doctor! Is he okay?

Gary’s Friend: Well, he’s… Lemme just—

Gary: Recent trauma or some ongoing issue?

Gary’s Friend: It’s ongoing, I guess. So he says, doctor I think my wife’s cheating on me!

Gary: He’s telling this to a general practitioner? Bad move. He should really be seeing a licensed therapist.

Gary’s Friend: Sure, but he’s just—

Gary: Preferably one with a focus on couple’s counselling and/or marriage therapy.

Gary’s Friend: Anyways, the doctor says, what makes you say that? So the guy—

Gary: Woah, woah. “What makes you say that?” What kind of professional response is that? This doctor is suspect.

Gary’s Friend: Suspect? Of what, he just walked in.

Gary: No bedside manner, no “hello sir or madam”, right to the deflective question of the obviously sensitive subject. That’s grounds for a complaint to the board.

Gary’s Friend: Yeah, but—

Gary: Or at least, throw something up on Yelp.

Gary’s Friend: Okay, let’s switch gears. How about… Okay, knock knock.

Gary: Uh… Who’s there?

Gary’s Friend: Your parole officer. [sound of Gary’s running footsteps] Gary, Wait!

[Soft instrumental music plays]

Hume Vanguard: Do you often find yourself the only one at a table not laughing at a joke or humorous anecdote? Do you often find yourself using the phrases “I don’t get it” or “it’s just not my thing”? Are you compelled to type these statements in online comments sections? Have you ever lost a friendship by uttering the phrase “look I get it, I just don’t think it’s funny”? Hello, I’m Hume Vanguard and I’d like to talk to you about the Literal Institute. Everyday, millions of Americans slog through their day with an acute non-awareness of sarcasm, satire, and dry wit. Some severe cases live their lives with no concept of irony whatsoever. The Literal Institute can help. We’ll start you off with an intense introduction to the foundations of humour, trained by a team of professional instructors, all currently active college comics.

[music stops]

College Comic 1: So my boss chews me out for being fifteen minutes late last week. I could tell he was having a bad day, so I didn’t tell him I was sleeping with his wife. [pause] Just kiddin’.

[crowd laughs]

College Comic 2: Oh man, I hate waiting in lines, anyone know what I’m talking about? Lines are the worst. Sometimes I just wanna get to the back of the line and scream, “he’s got a gun!” at the top of my lungs and watch the cattle disperse. [pause] I would of course, never actually do such a thing, I’m just entertaining the fantasy of it to illustrate the level of disconnectedness and frustration I’ve endured. [crowd laughs] Also I don’t think people are the same as cows.

[music returns]

Hume Vanguard: It doesn’t matter if you don’t know your coward from your Howard, after our program you’ll be out there trading barbs with the best of them.

[music stops]

Gary’s Friend: So the doctor says, “I’m sorry Mr. Falcon, you have cancer AND Alzheimers”. After a long pause Mr. Falcon replies, “well, at least I don’t have cancer”.

Gary: Jesus, what a terrible affliction…

Gary’s Friend: What’s that?

Gary: I mean, ah ha ha! Hilarious! That was a hilarious joke!

Gary’s Friend: Told ya.

Gary: Knock knock.

Gary’s Friend: Who’s there?

Gary: Comic lucidity. Thanks, Literal Institute.

Hume Vanguard: Call today. Literally.

[Rift sound effect]

[Faint alarm in background]

Mike: Good call on those tapes.

Oppenheimer: Yes, it certainly afforded us the opportunity to abscond from the server room undetected.

Mike: I feel much safer in this… doored storage alcove.

Oppenheimer: Yes, but I feel like the word safe can be no longer used to describe our collective futures, or lack thereof. We may have run out of options, Michael. I’ve been running calculations and possible scenarios for the past hour and I feel like I’m just staring at a blank chalkboard, dark and foreboding to the psyche. Maybe with just the teacher’s name, toward the right… Mr. Oppenheimer. A small suggested summer reading list below.

Mike: Just try to relax, professor, we’ve bought some time. You may get an eraser or two chucked at your head yet. It’s funny you mentioned school though. If I were the person I was as a kid I would probably be praying my ass off right now.

Oppenheimer: Michael, as you know, I am a man of science, however, I am unwilling to leave any stone unturned in our quest for survival. Tell me more of this… praying.

Mike: You’ve never heard of it?

Oppenheimer: No, but colour me curious as a cat. Lay it on me my formerly God fearing friend.

Mike: Okay… well. First I suppose you’d have to kinda pick a god to pray to?

Oppenheimer: Interesting. There’s more than one then?

Mike: Well, uh, it depends on… Well, there’s different pantheons…

Oppenheimer: Which is the most… powerful I suppose would be the next obvious query.

Mike: Well, uh, they’re all supposed to be, you know, sort of all powerful in a way.

Oppenheimer: Come now. There must there some sort of data collected on these gods that would allow us to logically rate them on a power scale. A.S.H. Le, search your databases for all references to the various pantheons of history.

A.S.H. Le: Should I filter out those that exist only in fiction?

Mike: That’s a loaded question.

Oppenheimer: No, gather all the data please.

A.S.H. Le: Computing. Completed.

Oppenheimer: Now, parse and arrange the data, ranking them based on direct involvement with he mortal worlds and conflict resolution.

A.S.H. Le: Completed.

Mike: That was fast.

A.S.H. Le: Thank you, Mike.

Oppenheimer: Which pantheons are at the top?

A.S.H. Le: There is one clear frontrunner.

Oppenheimer: Really? Which one?

A.S.H. Le: The Norse mythology.

Mike: That makes sense.

Oppenheimer: Okay, what’s next? What would the pure, naïve, child-like Michael do?

Mike: Well, after pissing himself, he’d as humbly as possible invoke the favour of the gods through a heartfelt plea.

Oppenheimer: Curious. Not exactly my strong suit, but well— here goes nothing.

Mike: Not a good start.

[Oppenheimer starts to make muttering singing noises. It does not resemble prayer.]

Mike: And not sure what that’s all about.

Oppenheimer: Lord of the Norse sky, hear me, your most humble and notably gifted skeptic. I call upon thee to aid us, if able and existent, in this our most dire hour of need. I am a man of science, previously the idea of direct communication with you would be met with scoff and distain, but today, before you is a desperate man. A man defeated, a man who see a universe without him in it. And I weep, for not only that incredible man, but for that universe. Such potential for change and advancement squandered on the whimsical mechanics of chaos. An agent of that chaos threatens that potential and I ask, I pray, that you in your probable but not verified wisdom— and grace— send a capable agent of hope in this, our darkest hour. Sincerely, Dr. Francis “Oppenheimer” Valdini.

Mike: Well that was something.

[long pause]

Oppenheimer: Well, clearly a failed experiment. We’re doomed.

Mike: Professor, we-we’ve only just started, there’s gotta be something. W— There’s so many things we were gonna do, to see.

Oppenheimer: Yes. Yes, there were. My beloved Esmerelda only 2.5 trillion fragments away from reconstitution, the rift so close to being healed, but alas. Michael, I know it to be the foolish notion of a hopeless man to ask, but I would… I would ask that you… To please forgive…

[Thunder clap]

Thor: We meet again, bub.

Cthulhu: You. How did you find me?

Thor: Let’s just say that a bad penny by any other name is still a bad penny, old scratch. Or, shall I refer to thee as The Deceiver. Oh, heh, how about Beleisle, Panzuzu, Araman, Apollyon, Beelzebub, Shy-tan, Abadan!

Cthulhu: Ah! And your name hangs on my tongue like a bolus of foul sputum that can never be expelled. Thor, God of Thunder, Asabrag, Dorin, The Intercessor, The Archangel Triton, The Metal Avenger, Vethor, Superpresident, The Rock Warrior.

Thor: Your many names mask the same snake, Asmodius! Or perhaps better known in these realms as Bathamut, Leviathan, Cthulhu, The Indescribable One.

Mike: Ehn, pretty describable.

Oppenheimer: Shh.

Mike: Hey, how long do you think this part with go on?

Oppenheimer: Hard to say, clearly these two have a history.

Mike: I’m going to go see if I can hurry this along.

Oppenheimer: Do you think that wise, Michael?

Mike: Nope. [clears throat] Hey guys, sorry to interrupt.

Oppenheimer: Yes, forgive our intrusion.

Cthulhu: Who dares?

Mike: I just wanted to take this opportunity to say that, uh, and I think I can speak for both of us…

Oppenheimer: Of course.

Mike: I just wanted to say that we are… impressed beyond believe and the number of monikers you’ve both managed to amassed over the years.

Oppenheimer: Most impressive. Most impressive.

Mike: And well, just as a personal aside and only because you folk may not know this, but I’ve slogged through life so far with just one name. A fairly common one at that, and the professor here—

Oppenheimer: Well, truth be told, I have quite a few myself, but that list pales in comparison to the inordinate amount of influence you both must possess in order to receive such a cornucopia of titles.

Thor: Your reverence is well received, mortals! It warms the heart of Thor. A heart buried deep beneath the eldritch armour and layers upon layers of equally impenetrable muscle.

Mike: Well, we couldn’t just stay in the next room with all this going on an remain silent.

Oppenheimer: We were compelled to say something.

Thor: And what say you, Serpent of Old? Wordless in the face of such exalted praise, Foul Betrayer? ’Tis rude of you.

Cthulhu: Insolence!

Oppenheimer: Gentlemen, gentlemen, please. Although most appreciated, we are not fishing for reciprocal compliments here.

Mike: And we’re certainly not interested in complicating what is clearly an extend period of unresolved conflict between the two of you, it’s been a while hasn’t it?

Cthulhu: Eons.

Oppenheimer: Eons! That’s barely even a measurement of recognized time. Both Michael and I have had a rough road over these past few years, but eons! That cannot be easy.

Cthulhu: Yes.

Thor: Aye, perhaps before time itself. Battle after battle. So much lost in the fog of it.

Mike: Okay, well, we’ve said our piece. Uh, hopefully we’ve established ourselves as a safe place for you to, you know, unload some of that burden, even for a little while.

Oppenheimer: Perhaps even shed some light on some past transgressions to let the steam out a bit.

Thor: There you go, old scratch, you relish the destructive display of evaporation.

Cthulhu: This is true.

Mike: See? We understand you.

Oppenheimer: We understand.

Thor: What brought you here to this… this…

Oppenheimer: Interdimensional bunker.

Mike: It’s a lot like a spaceship building.

Thor: Yes, what brought you to this spaceship building?

Cthulhu: This mindless prattle has clouded you minds, fools! Is it not obvious?

Mike: Hey, we wouldn’t have asked if we didn’t want to hear what you have to say.

Thor: Aye, what is your purpose here, my oldest of adversaries?

Cthulhu: I am here to consume the souls of these mortals, these two Chatty Cathys. And I intended to do so regardless of the temporary sympathy plateau we’ve cultivated, but now I can see that you have duped me again, that these two are but shadows. No humans could be so vapid, so touchy-feely. Well played, God of Thunder.

Thor: Actually, Foul One, they’re real.

Cthulhu: Really?

Oppenheimer: Full disclosure, our intervention hear this evening is dual-purposed. The first has already been accomplished.

Mike: And thanks for sharing your honesty with us, i-it goes a long way. Even if it doesn’t seem so right at this moment.

Cthulhu: And what is the second purpose of your pitiful intentions?

Oppenheimer: Distraction. A.S.H. Le!

A.S.H. Le: Deploying liquid nitrogen jets.

[Whoosh sound. Cthulhu screams]

Thor: Nicely done, mortals, now it’s time for me to do what I do best. Let’s tune our weapons!

[Rock music starts, Cthulhu makes the occasional guttural noise]

Oppenheimer: Mother of invention, this is quite a sight! It appears that Thor has transformed into a shirtless titan. A radically different appearance, but no less imposing.

Mike: No doubt about that, professor. And look, the creature has transformed as well.

Oppenheimer: Yes, what a hideous sight. A curious design to choose in this particular instance.

Mike: Yeah, sort of a stick-thin nightmare with elongated proportions.

Oppenheimer: Almost insectoid in form and structure, pained movement, limited articulation.

Mike: Not sure if he even has legs, just kinda bobbing back and forth.

Cthulhu: Minions, attend me!

Oppenheimer: Curious choice indeed. And what’s this?

Mike: He’s summoned a bunch of small starfish looking things, they kind of look like hand puppets.

Oppenheimer: Now, Michael. why would a creature possessed with this kind of immense power conjure a series of benign children’s toys? For the sake of comic relief? Trust me, these are dangerous entities. Even though we can’t see their legs either.

Mike: Yeah, they seem ambulatory— Oh, look out! One of them has a switch blade.

Oppenheimer: My God, and that one is smoking!

Mike: Oh crap, these non-puppet things just flew through the air and stuck to Thor’s chest.

Oppenheimer: He’s having quite a struggle with them, it almost looks as though he’s intentionally holding them against himself.

Mike: That’s just crazy talk, professor. Should we help?

Thor: Stay back, mortals. I will prevail! These minions of the underworld are as deadly as they appear.

A.S.H. Le: So… not that deadly?

Oppenheimer: Look, he’s destroyed the minions! Now he’s locked in combat with the creature itself!

Mike: Like a strange, in-air, double arm wrestling competition.

Oppenheimer: Awesome indeed, Michael. Perhaps, awesome incarnate.

[Music crescendos, then stops. Faint dying wail from Cthulhu]

Thor: It it done. The fiend is gone… for now.

Oppenheimer: Sir, I-I don’t know how to thank— You saved my bunker… You— You saved us…

Thor: Ah, don’t mention it pal. Just a typical Thursday night for me.

Oppenheimer: Oh, uh, typical you say?

Thor: Yeah, get it? Thursday, Thor’s day, the name’s Thor!

Oppenheimer: Oh I see, heh, a bit of comedic wordplay, yes. I’m afraid I’m a bit myopic when it comes to any form of humour that doesn’t involve sarcasm.

Mike: Just checked on Cyrus, he’s fine. Woah, wait a minute! I know who this is.

Oppenheimer: Of course, Michael, just because he changed back into his earthly garb does mean—

Mike: This is Jon Mikl Thor.

Thor: In the flesh, bub.

Oppenheimer: Ah, yes, of course. I must have been a little woozy from all the sulphur. The legendary Jon Mikl Thor is here!

[pause]

Mike, Oppenheimer, & A.S.H. Le: Welcome!

Thor: Happy to be here. And to pull your butts out of the fire. Literally.

Oppenheimer: Please, have a seat on the couch. I think we’re out of chairs.

[Rift sound effect]

Oppenheimer: Thank you so much for being here, Thor. What is your preferred method of destroying your enemies.

Thor: I use mind-control. Everyone thinks that I just use my muscularity and strength, but actually I have a superior brain.

Oppenheimer: So you’re able to get inside their heads?

Thor: Yes, I have a special vision where I can inspect the brain and see what they are thinking, and I can be one step ahead.

Oppenheimer: Ah, mental manipulation and mind control, wonderful!

Thor: Yes, manipulate them and then give ‘em a judo chop in the neck, and then I grab their arm, twist it to their behind— not in their behind, but to the behind of the back— and they’re on their knees. That’s how I deal with them.

Oppenheimer: Jon, what was the first moment that you identified with the thunder god? What was the first moment onstage as Thor like

Thor: The very first moment onstage was a… very thunderous moment. I could hear the thunder and I could see the lightening. And I was being electrocuted at the time, as I stepped on a live wire and on a live flash pod. So, uh, that was my first, uh… uh, feeling of the god of thunder. [Oppenheimer chuckles] However, to get— seriously, I had just a, uh, incredible moment of… I was trying to develop the character of Thor and it was one of my favourite mythological gods— and, uh, also I’m a big fan of Superman— and I wanted to put both together and come up onstage and play heavy rock music. ‘Cause I used to train to Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath, and all the heavy metal bands. Did you know that “Helter Skelter” was the very first metal song? By the Beatles. I used to train to that as well. And, uh, and then I got pumped up and I wanted to do it all onstage. Meld muscle and music together.

Oppenheimer: What was your favourite TV show as a child?

Thor: Besides The Adventures of Superman, it was the Lone Ranger!

Oppenheimer: Ah, yes.

Thor: Yeah, with Clayton Moore. Remember Clayton Moore?

Oppenheimer: I can see that in John Triton— a-a man who comes into town to clean things up.

Thor: That’s right, that’s right. You know all my influences and secrets.

Oppenheimer: And now we can watch Rock and Roll Nightmare with new eyes.

Thor: [chuckles] Yes.

Oppenheimer: Speaking of Rock and Roll Nightmare, why-why do you think that Rock and Roll Nightmare has become such a huge cult phenomenon with so many fans?

Thor: I absolutely have no idea. Seriously, I [laughs] I, uh, i-it leaves me scratching my head at times. Um, I-I just think that it’s one of those things where y’know, John Fasano and I were two young guys… You know, we just, uh— well he was younger than I was [laughs], I was rockin’ and rollin’ for a while at that time, an-and touring all over the world. And we had done Zombie Nightmare together and I did the soundtrack as well. And, you know, that was with Tia Carrere and Adam West— the original Batman. Uh, and the-then we wanted to do this movie together, an-and do some other ones as well, an-and our idea was “hey, can we just make a movie that could get distributed”. Y’know, we didn’t want just a movie that our— that we’d have in the basement where, you know, your mom and dad would watch and have the friends over, that sort of thing. We wanted a movie that could get distributed. And so that’s all our plan was. We had no idea that it would continue on, over the years and have this cult following and new generations of fans, for that matter. That was unfathomable. That… that… Well, that’d be amazing. So here we are, in 2013, I have just, you know, appeared on a tour, and I can’t believe the fans of… of, uh you know, this— this movie and, uh, if I look at it, I just think it’s… it’s that story, right? Of, y’know, why is The Man of Steel— well, of course, bigger budget and everything— why is the Man of Steel so popular, or why are superheroes popular? You know, Triton was a superhero, really, he was like Hercules, uh, you know, he was, y’know, sent from above to do a job on Earth, y’know? Let’s clean up, y’know? Do a job and— And I think there were some… some cool twists, and I think also, the music speaks for itself. I believe the music that was written—[coughs] Excuse me, but I have to take a little, uh… [Oppenheimer laughs] kudos here. [laughs] But the… [laughs] I thought the music was… It’s good music, right? It’s good rockin’ music, you know, for that time…

Oppenheimer: Totally.

Thor: And people still like it today. They— they keep going on about energy… and “we live to rock” and all these, uh… “We Accept the Challenge”… They stand up today.

Oppenheimer: And if I could add, one of the things that we find most compelling about your work— Rock and Roll Nightmare and all of your projects, really— is the amount of energy that you bring to it, uh, the… the fun you seem to be having and the passion with which you apply yourself. You are an entertainer, and it’s obvious that with you, entertainment comes first.

Thor: Well, that’s why I say to the crowd, uh, yeah, “you give me energy” because the energy I get from the crowd is… is… is beyond any kind of high I could get from anything else. it really is a high and and you can really feel it up there and… and i-it’s something that’s, uh, one of the most amazing feelings a human being could anger have. An-and it’s— That’s— Hey, why is Paul McCartney out there, you know, at 71 years old, entertaining the crowds? He loves it, I mean, there— He’s on bigger scale, of course, but you have to admire, uh, you know the-the guy… Hey, you know, most of the guys touring right now are over sixty. Y’know, they’re all touring out there, KISS loves it… I mean, y-you can’t escape it. Uh, y’know, “we live to rock”.

Oppenheimer: Yes! So what have the crowds been like?

Thor: Oh, uh, we… we had five thousand in, uh, in Florida. Um… In, um, in Europe we had, uh, a crowd of twenty thousand, um… S-so, y’know, i-it varies in the different regions we go to, y’know. But, uh, y’know, we, uh, we played— I have played in front of a hundred thousand and that was, uh, at a large festival in Europe. Back in… in the eighties, but, you know, most of the stuff, like, twenty thousand, you know, is recently.

Oppenheimer: It seems like there’s a lot more younger fans now who seem to be getting into that classic, uh… hard rock, power metal sort of sound. Uh, many more than perhaps even as recently as twenty years ago. Have you noticed that?

Thor: I absolutely— Yeah, I feel that, and, you know, with the social network., uh, and the internet, everything… it’s made the world smaller and everybody joins together an-and we have so many fans that contact us from Brazil, from Japan… Places, you know, that we’ve never been to a-at all, uh, before. But, you know, we ha— We’ve found out there’s so many legions of fans, um, you know, like in Germany and of course, you know, we’ve played in Sweden and Finland and all those places— and England. But there’s such a big world out there, a big universe. We are warriors of the universe and, uh, were ready t-to get out there at some point animate all these people. Uh, next year we do have plans to do some shows in New York, Boston, Washington, and, uh, uh, you know, we have a new album that will be coming out. Uh, there’s some, uh… uh… Well, special secrets, I guess, uh, that have not been revealed yet, but they will be unfurled to the world, uh… very, very soon. About I will say, maybe possibly a box set that’ll be coming out on, uh, on a major label, uh next year, that’s one. And, uh, also we got, uh, out of Europe, a single that’s coming out and another album. So we got plenty of products, are you confused already? But uh, you know, heh, I’m confused at times.

Oppenheimer: It’s a good kind of confusion. Where can the denizens of the various timelines go to find out more about your current projects and…

Thor: Yeah, yeah, thorcentral.com, metalavengers, uh, dot com, which is out of Europe. So, uh, you got the North American, uh, headquarters, and the European headquarters. And of course, uh, Facebook, Jon Mikl Thor on Facebook, y’know you can get, uh, updates, uh on there.

Oppenheimer: I have two more questions for you, Jon. Uh, you’ve been a champion bodybuilder, a rockstar, a filmmaker, actor, writer, and an entrepreneur with your throwback classic NHL jerseys. You’ve even been in comic books, uh, including that new Retro Tales comic. Is there anything that you’ve not yet attempted or accomplished, but would like to?

Thor: Oh, uh, I’d like to have a great golf game or an under three hundred bowling… y’know… [Oppenheimer laughs] There’s a few things there.

Oppenheimer: We need to bowl next time you come to the bunker, right Michael?

Thor: Yeah, absolutely.

Oppenheimer: Excellant.

Thor: I, uh… I’d like to… Like I said, I like to get a pretty good— I like to get the perfect game.

Oppenheimer: Yes, of course as do we.

Thor: That would be great.

Oppenheimer: One more question for you, Jon. What would you consider to be the most important lesson that you’ve learned in your time here amongst us mortals.

Thor: I would say, to… to be humble, you know? To appreciate what you have, appreciate life, appreciate the scenery. Do not be an egomaniac. I’ve dealt with many egomaniacs out there, and at times I may portray one here and there, but really, I’m a pretty humble guy because I’ve learned to be humble. You know, it’s like, uh, you gotta, you know, enjoy life to its max and, uh, appreciate nature, etc., etc. There’s, uh, you know, you can work yourself to death pretty much and just be focused on one thing, uh, for example music. You know, some guys are just “hey, I just wanna write the next one, the next big record” or, “I just wanna”— But, you know what? There’s other things out there that are wonderful, like bowling.

Oppenheimer: [laughs] Right, of course.

Thor: So enjoy!

Oppenheimer: Jon Mikl Thor, you are the best, thank you so much for talking with us.

Thor: Hey man, I appreciate it. Thank you so much for having me on the show, I really appreciate that. Look forward to seeing you guys again soon.

[Rift sound effect]

Thor: Well guys, it’s time I got out of here. Lots of other worlds to save. And I must have a ton of dishes to wash by now.

Mike: We can’t thank you enough, man, thanks for everything.

Oppenheimer: Yes, you truly saved the day, I imagine, on of many days saved.

Thor: Don’t mention it.

A.S.H. Le: Now, professor?

Oppenheimer: Absolutely not.

Mike: What’s up?

Oppenheimer: Oh, nothing, she just wanted to play some ending credits music for a silly video game.

A.S.H. Le: He just doesn’t get it.

Thor: Which game? Portal?

A.S.H. Le: Why… yes, actually.

Thor: Great idea, that would have really fit well.

A.S.H Le: Swoon.

Thor: Okay, so, uh… I guess I’m leaving now. [coughs] Hey, guy, don’t you have something for me?

Mike: Wha… Who, me?

Thor: Yeah, man. Keys?

Mike: Wha— Oh! Oh…

Oppenheimer: The van you found on the People Candy World, that’s—

Thor: My van, man. [sound of keys being handed over] Rock and roll! [van beeps] Gentlemen.

Song: Energy takes me where I want to be And you’re where I wanna be Girl you give me

[Van tyres screech]

Mike: Don’t call it people candy.

Oppenheimer: People candy, Michael. You were almost eating people candy.

[“Energy” by Jon Mikl Tho starts playing]

Credits: Hadron Gospel Hour is produced by Richard Wentworth and Michael McQuilkin, production assistance from Katy Falvey and Rebekah White. Special thanks to Jon Mikl Thor, Tim Conway, Bob Wilson, Scott Woolard and Barrelhouse Sound, Kris Paukstys, Tim Gleason, and Don and Eric Schulze. Download, rate, and review episodes of Hadron Gospel Hour at iTunes and Stitcher. And Listen to episodes any time at hadrongospelhour.com.

[“Energy” plays the episode out]

0 notes

spoopytruffle · 6 years

Text

Bold the muse’s aesthetic (spooky edition) [Anna Hysteria]

horrificmemes:

Reblog and bold all of the themes that apply to your muse’s aesthetic or mood as a character.

0 notes

kayawagner · 7 years

Text

Codex - Volume One [BUNDLE]

Publisher: The Gauntlet

This special bundle product contains the following titles.

Codex - Chrome (Oct 2016) Regular price: $2.00 Bundle price: $0.00 Format: Watermarked PDF Codex is the monthly RPG fanzine published by the Gauntlet gaming community! Each issue features a variety of original articles organized around a theme, loads of original artwork, and a custom layout. Inside Codex - Chrome: #chrome_rot.exe A campaign starter for The Sprawl RPG that introduces the threat of the chrome rot disease into your game. Nineteen Science Fantasy Elements for Dungeon World Items, custom moves, monsters, and places of power. Miscellany: Three Dozen Pieces of Cosmetic Cyberware Eight original illustrations Custom layout by Oli Jeffery ... Codex - Crystal (Aug 2017) Regular price: $5.00 Bundle price: $4.00 Format: Watermarked PDF Codex is the monthly RPG fanzine published by the Gauntlet gaming community! Each issue features a variety of articles organized around a theme, loads of original artwork, and a custom layout. Inside Codex - Crystal: Heroes and Crystal Kingdoms (HaCK) A JRPG version of The Indie Hack. Trepallidic Parasites Crystalline spores to infect your Dungeon World campaign. Keepers of Antarra An original storytelling game. The Faceted Order A supplement for Dungeon World and OSR campaigns. Guardian Stones Bend dimensions with these magic items for Dungeon World. Three Dozen Rumors of Crystal Falls Township Seven original illustrations Custom graphics and layout by Oli Jeffery ... Codex - Dark (Jan 2017) Regular price: $4.00 Bundle price: $3.00 Format: Watermarked PDF Codex is the monthly RPG fanzine published by the Gauntlet gaming community! Each issue features a variety of original articles organized around a theme, loads of original artwork, and a custom layout. Inside Codex - Dark: Called Summon a demon into the world in this candlelit LARP by Wendy Gorman. The Conjuration A Final Girl scenario by Oli Jeffery, inspired by the films Insidious and The Conjuring. Pizza Time! Explore the dark corners of a Chuck E. Cheese’s style restaurant in this Lovecraftesque mystery by Jason Cordova. Plunged Into Darkness A superhero scenario by Jaye Foster for the 6d6 system. Three Dozen Seedy Taverns Six original illustrations. A custom layout by Oli Jeffery.... Codex - Ectoplasm (Nov 2016) Regular price: $3.00 Bundle price: $2.00 Format: Watermarked PDF Codex is the monthly RPG fanzine published by the Gauntlet gaming community! Each issue features a variety of original articles organized around a theme, loads of original artwork, and a custom layout. Inside Codex - Ectoplasm: Huge Problems in Little Shanghai A Monster of the Week mystery The Ghost A playbook for The Sprawl RPG Thirteen Haunted Magic Items for Dungeon World Three Dozen Signs of Ghostly Habitation Nine original illustrations Custom layout by Oli Jeffery ... Codex - Iron (Apr 2017) Regular price: $5.00 Bundle price: $4.00 Format: Watermarked PDF Codex is the monthly RPG fanzine published by the Gauntlet gaming community! Each issue features a variety of articles organized around a theme, loads of original artwork, and a custom layout.   Inside Codex - Iron: The Gates of Cold Iron Pass An OSR adventure by Kiel Chenier. Wind on the Path A game of samurai duels by Jonathan Lavallee. Four Dwarven Shrines A collection of elements for Dungeon World. Three Dozen Tempering Trials Seven original illustrations A custom layout by Oli Jeffery... Codex - Joy (Aug 2017) Regular price: $5.00 Bundle price: $4.00 Format: Watermarked PDF Codex is the monthly RPG fanzine published by the Gauntlet gaming community! Each issue features a variety of articles organized around a theme, loads of original artwork, and a custom layout. Inside Codex - Joy: Bunk Beds Truth or terror in this original LARP. So You’re Becoming a Dragon Dragons and puberty, together at last in this original LARP. The Kawaii!!! A new playbook for Apocalypse World. Seven Celebrations Festivals, fetes, and fancy for Dungeon World. Gauntlet Daddies #001 Three Dozen Attractions at the Carnival of Dreams Nine original illustrations A custom layout by Oli Jeffery... Codex - Love (Feb 2017) Regular price: $4.00 Bundle price: $3.00 Format: Watermarked PDF Codex is the monthly RPG fanzine published by the Gauntlet gaming community! Each issue features a variety of original articles organized around a theme, loads of original artwork, and a custom layout. Inside Codex - Love: Stops Along the Journey of the Owl A Lady Blackbird supplement by Rich Rogers. Temor, God of Love and Pestilence A collection of custom moves, magic items, and spells for Dungeon World. Bogville A deluxe Dungeon World adventure starter by Ray Otus. Three Dozen Fantastic Places to Take a Date Six original illustrations A custom layout by Oli Jeffery... Codex - Madness (May 2017) Regular price: $5.00 Bundle price: $4.00 Format: Watermarked PDF Codex is the monthly RPG fanzine published by the Gauntlet gaming community! Each issue features a variety of articles organized around a theme, loads of original artwork, and a custom layout. Inside Codex - Madness: Asylum City A Dungeon World adventure starter by Jason Cordova. Rituals A Powered by the Apocalypse minigame and supplement about living with OCD. The Madness of Cú Chulainn A new story game of Celtic myth by Tom McGrenery. The Madness of Legends A bit of frippery, Powered by the Apocalypse. My Female Hysteria A scenario for Cheat Your Own Adventure. Three Dozen Great Old Ones Seven original illustrations A custom layout by Oli Jeffery... Codex - Neon (Jul 2017) Regular price: $5.00 Bundle price: $4.00 Format: Watermarked PDF Codex is the monthly RPG fanzine published by the Gauntlet gaming community! Each issue features a variety of articles organized around a theme, loads of original artwork, and a custom layout. Inside Codex - Neon: Tonight Only! Soundcheck Presents… It’s the battle of the 80s bands in this competitive LARP. Solace A starter scenario for The Veil RPG by Fraser Simons. Mechanical Oryx 200 Word RPG Challenge winner: Post-apocalyptic robot deer. Route Clearance 200 Word RPG Challenge winner: Card-based military camaraderie. Memories 200 Word RPG Challenge winner: Bittersweet nursing home stories. Four Dozen Neon Lit Business Establishments Nine original illustrations Custom layout by Oli Jeffery... Codex - Starlight (Dec 2016) Regular price: $3.00 Bundle price: $2.00 Format: Watermarked PDF Codex is the monthly RPG fanzine published by the Gauntlet gaming community! Each issue features a variety of original articles organized around a theme, loads of original artwork, and a custom layout. Inside Codex - Starlight: Café Luz Estelar A Malandros starter by Tom McGrenery. Ex Nihilo A science-fiction Lovecraftesque scenario by Joshua Fox. The Temple of the Peerless Star A deluxe Dungeon World starter by Jason Cordova and Daniel Fowler. Three Dozen Signs the Stars Are Right! Nine original illustrations Custom layout by Oli Jeffery... Codex - The Discern Realities Annual Regular price: $7.00 Bundle price: $3.00 Format: Watermarked PDF This special edition of Codex features original material featured in the first forty episodes of the Discern Realities Dungeon World podcast! Inside: Five new procedures, techniques, and hacks Thirteen custom moves Thirty-nine magic items Seven Compendium Classes An adventure starter Nineteen original illustrations Custom layout by Oli Jeffery... Codex - Time (Jun 2017) Regular price: $5.00 Bundle price: $4.00 Format: Watermarked PDF Codex is the monthly RPG fanzine published by the Gauntlet gaming community! Each issue features a variety of articles organized around a theme, loads of original artwork, and a custom layout. Inside Codex - Time: Timegasm A LARP about time travel, legal wrangling, and incest by Wendy Gorman. Reset A mystery game for two players inspired by the classic neo-noir, Memento. Turning A universal tool for dealing with vast time-spans in any RPG. Overlooked Play as an android hated by humans in this dystopian RPG. The Iron Tyrant An adventure starter for Dungeon World. Three Dozen In Medias Res Starters Four original illustrations Custom graphics and layout by Oli Jeffery... Codex - Yellow (Mar 2017) Regular price: $4.00 Bundle price: $3.00 Format: Watermarked PDF Codex is the monthly RPG fanzine published by the Gauntlet gaming community! Each issue features a variety of original articles organized around a theme, loads of original artwork, and a custom layout. Inside Codex - Yellow: The Society for Vegan Sorcerers An original LARP by Wendy Gorman. The City of Carcosa A Dungeon World starter by Andrew Shields. The Search for the Yellow City A custom setup for Cheat Your Own Adventure. The Yellow Planet A collection of elements for Dungeon World. Three Dozen Forbidden Texts Nine original illustrations A custom layout by Oli Jeffery...

Total value:$57.00Special bundle price:$40.00Savings of:$17.00 (30%)

Price: $57.00 Codex - Volume One [BUNDLE] published first on https://supergalaxyrom.tumblr.com

0 notes