#especially when disaster or destruction is expected or imminent

[unexpectedstormy]

Angsty story idea I just had:

Wild is feeling homesick for the home he had before the calamity and before he drew the Master Sword. All the other Links have their places of origin and he wants to know his own. He asks Flora but she doesn’t know where his home was. She only knew him at the castle. He prays to Hylia to show him his home.

Later, the Chain's in his Hyrule and they’re riding horses somewhere and Wild sees a ruined house out in the wilderness surrounded by blue nightshade (which is the symbolic flower of BotW/TotK Link). He realizes that this is his home and he ends up having a long memory of some of his life as a child living there.

He then finds something from that old time like a buried chest of valuables his family buried before the Calamity for safekeeping.

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Where the sweetiefish swim

Stories have a way of bringing people together - those who come from wildly different backgrounds, those who have loved and lost, and those who keep trudging on. Stories are powerful, lingering on us in ways we'd never expect them to.

The tumultuous life of Priscilla Grimsley "Pringle" Wilder is one whose story of determination and grit gave her great-great granddaughter the courage to carry on after a series of tragedies that plagued her and her sister. Years later it also reunited her with someone from a past she longed to forget, and in turn, finally put those awful years behind her.

First, let me start with the Sweetie River, an almost mythical wonder that has helped many who were lost and desolate. Something about the soft almost pastel pink waters and the graceful sweetiefish swimming against the currents proved as a source of solace for those who need it. No one knows why the fish insist on swimming against the flow, but they just do.

While sweetiefish are known for being native to the Sweetie River, they do pop up in other places from time to time. In a weird turn of luck, they were showing up at Lost Lure Creek. I mean, we do have our fair share of rare aquatic creatures that show up at the camp every so often, yet it still surprises me when they pop up.

I don't think it was a coincidence that the sweetiefish started showing up around the time Lana planned a camping trip with her brothers. Especially since the two who are accompanying them are Pringle Wilder's great-great granddaughters, both whom she had been trying to track down for years.

Unfortunate circumstances tore them apart, things that Lana couldn't even begin to understand. After all, she was only about eight when the sisters lived with them for a spell until something happened that caused Sissi and Mary to leave abruptly. Lana spent years wondering about the sisters, only for her parents to brush her off if she asked. Then disaster followed that left Lana's family with bigger problems to deal with, as well as the possibility that the girls were likely missing and/or dead.

Before getting into all that, let me tell you the story of Pringle Wilder, a survivor of the deadly Saint Goldcrest earthquake. Since her mother's death and father's abandonment when she was fourteen, Pringle religiously kept a diary. It was her safe haven, her way of expressing her grief and anger as well as her imagination and her unwavering courage. After the death of her younger brother at the hands of her abusive uncle, Pringle left home, vowing to never return.

So she hopped on a train that took her miles away. Pringle also cast away her family's name - Walcottingly - to completely cut herself from her father for good. Wilder was her mother's name and seeing how she was the only one left to carry the name, Pringle felt it was the best way to keep her beloved mother's memory alive.

The train took her to Saint Goldcrest, where Pringle became a maid for a wealthy family living in the richest neighborhood in the county. Aside from the daughter Millie, Pringle didn't care too much for the Sumpters. Though, she had stated in her diary many times that while living with the Sumpters was like a prison, it was better than the alternative, which was her uncle.

Pringle stayed in Saint Goldcrest for six months before the earthquake hit, destroying the city and killing thousands, including the Sumpters. Her account of the earthquake is a heartbreaking read, one that still gets to me no matter how many times I've read it. It's not an easy read, the vivid descriptions of the mansion crumbling down, the feeling of dread and terror as Pringle was certain the end was imminent, and the horror of watching Millie Sumpter die in front of her while she herself was trapped in rubble, unable to help or turn away.

What happened afterward was a turn Pringle never expected. Due to the chaos and the fact that she was wearing Millie's clothes during and after the earthquake led to a case of mistaken identity. The girls looked nothing alike but with Millie's body being badly crushed by debris as well as Mr. Sumpter's business partner having never seen Millie before, Pringle didn't even realize the mix up until he addressed her by the wrong name hours later.

With nowhere to go, Pringle had no choice but to keep up with the charade. Since the Charotts didn't know Millie, they never suspected anything. In a way, it was almost too easy, which scared her. While staying with the Charotts, Pringle later found herself untangling a web of deceit and corruption involving the Charotts, Sumpters and, in an unexpected twist of events, her father.

A reluctant Pringle then teamed up with her father to expose the Charotts along with other notable businessmen associated with them and the Sumpters. A deadly showdown resulted in many deaths, including Pringle's father and Mr. Charott. Pringle herself barely escaped as she was grazed by a bullet when her father attempted to use her as a shield. After recovering from her injuries, Pringle once again hopped on a train, leaving behind the destruction of Saint Goldcrest as well as her last remaining tie to her past. In her diary she wrote, "Priscilla Walcottingly died in the Great Earthquake."

The train could only take Pringle so far. With even less than nothing to go off on, Pringle was lost in an unfamiliar world. In her diary, she found herself retreating to her ideal world of make believe. A world where people like her mother, brother, and Millie were alive and happy. An alternate course where she was back in school hanging out with her friends and filling her head with all kinds of stories. She often wrote about her brother, often wishing that she could retreat to her own head like he did after their mother died.

It was the Sweetie River that pulled Pringle out of the cracks. According to legend, the Sweetie River seeks out those who need it the most. Pringle was near death, on the verge of giving up, her diary entries are of almost another person, a broken shell of a once spirited girl. As she wrote in her diary, seeing the little fish fighting the currents awakened a sense of hope in her, one that she had feared she lost forever when her brother died.

Fascinated by the river and the fish, Pringle followed the stream. She marked this time period as the Wandering Years, becoming known to some as the River Lady, known for her kindness towards those she meets. Eventually her wandering took her to Falcon Haven, a once quaint little town during its heyday. Not much about her life is known after that except that she married and lived a quiet life.

The story of Pringle Wilder continues to live on with her descendants. Her great-granddaughter Margaret was the one who found Pringle's diaries and passed them on to Sissi, who was named after her ancestor. Sissi became fascinated by Pringle's life and like her, began keeping a diary to help cope with unfortunate tragedies that plagued her adolescence.

Sissi was fourteen and Mary was ten when their parents were killed in an accident. After that they were sent to live with their grandfather, who never got along with the family. Unable to take the abuse anymore, Sissi took Mary and they ran away.

Inspired by Pringle, Sissi and Mary hopped on a train to start a new life. While on the train, they met Lana, her mother, and her brothers. Lana, who was eight at the time, immediately took a liking to Sissi and Mary. Sissi helped take care of the kids during the three day journey, especially with the boys, who often got rowdy and pestered Lana.

Seeing that the sisters had formed a close bond with the kids, Mrs. Hallie decided to take in Sissi and Mary. Lana and her brothers were happy to have two big sisters. Sissi would try to help out whenever she could, acting like a part time nanny even though Mr. and Mrs. Hallie would remind her that she's one of the kids now. Lana described Sissi as fourteen going on forty.

They were happy for a while, until a big fight resulted in Sissi taking Mary and leaving, followed by most of the city burning down due to the Sliver Way Fire. Sissi's abrupt departure and chaos following the wildfire haunted Lana, and in the years that followed, she tried to track down the whereabouts of Priscilla and Mary Franklin.

It was Pringle Wilder who reunited Lana with Sissi and Mary. Sissi published Pringle's diaries, which became a bestseller. But that wasn't what caught Lana's attention, at least not at first. It was Sissi's novel, Follow the Sweetfish River, that reignited Lana's search for the sisters.

I first met Lana while living in Capricorn, exploring old bookstores and hanging out at cafes. Lana got me intrigued about Sissi and Pringle as well as the Saint Goldcrest earthquake and the Sweetie River. Although she had only known Sissi for a short time, her presence left an impact on Lana and her brothers, especially the stories she told them of Pringle Wilder and the river. Despite having little to nothing to go on, Lana was determined to find out what happened to Sissi and Mary.

As a result of her determination, I too became invested in the mystery of Sissi and Mary's whereabouts. That's part of the reason why we kept in touch once in a while. And I'm happy we did now that we know that the search wasn't futile.

Follow the Sweetfish River is a historical fiction story that was loosely based on the lives of the two Priscillas. It is the diary of Rosemary Grace, a fourteen year old girl who leaves behind her old life following a devastating tragedy, only to have trouble follow her wherever she went. While the book had positive reviews, it didn't make the bestseller list - a shame in my opinion as it really is a captivating read.

Lana happened to come across it by chance at a thrift shop. While skimming through the pages she came across some things that pulled her in. She recognized little details about Pringle's life through Rosemary as well as some parallels to Sissi's life with the Hallies such as Rosemary being taken in by a kind family, only to leave on bad terms.

From there, Lana started to put the pieces together. Her breakthrough was searching for Wilder instead of Franklin, which made things a lot more clearer. At some point after leaving Sliver Way, Sissi and Mary took on their mother's name, which was why Lana has such a hard time finding them. She used the book as a roadmap to figure out where Sissi and Mary have been such as how they escaped the wildfires and survived out on their own with nothing but each other.

It took nearly twenty years but at long last, Lana was reunited with Sissi and Mary. It was something she dreaded and anticipated - she never expected to get that far and there she was. What's done is done and while some things can't be forgiven, you gotta carry on. When Lana broke the news, I was constantly refreshing for updates.

Just as Pringle Wilder said, the truth will come out in some way, whether it's in bits and pieces, or a gradual realization, someone will listen and understand. I'm glad Lana finally has closure on something that haunted her and her brothers for years, same for Sissi and Mary.

The truth was what drove Lana to find Sissi. Before Mr. Hallie died, he finally told Lana and the boys why Sissi and Mary ran off. It had to do with Mrs. Hallie's brother, who Sissi cursed at when she stormed out of the Hallies' lives. He and his friends were responsible for the deaths of Sissi's parents - an accident, they claimed. That was why Mary ran out of the house when she saw him, because she recognized him and he had threatened her to keep quiet. He confessed, resulting in Sissi lashing out while Mrs. Hallie jumped to her brother's defense.

Lana and her brothers were playing in the living room when the whole thing happened. She remembers being confused and scared, especially after her mother told her and the boys to forget that Sissi and Mary ever existed. It puzzled her a lot as her mother always treated Sissi and Mary like her own. All the more reason why she was determined to find them.

Not too long after Sissi left, the city was forced to evacuate. Wildfires around the area had grown out of control and for days the skies had been covered in smog. However no one expected the fire to jump the river or even reach that far out. Lana and the boys were reluctant to leave because they didn't want Sissi and Mary to get scared when they come home to an empty house. The fire spread rapidly, leaving residents little time to escape. The neighborhood where the Hallies lived was completely destroyed by the flames.

Like Rosemary Grace, Sissi barely escaped the flames that consumed the city. She was searching for Mary when the city went on alert. The chaos made it more difficult for Sissi to find her sister, but she absolutely refused to leave until she knew Mary was safe. In the end she had no choice but to be escorted out when the fire began overtaking the city. Sissi suffered injuries from smoke inhalation so she had to stay in a clinic. Just when she was about to give up hope, the kind stranger who saved her reunited her with Mary, who was shaken up but unharmed.

And like Rosemary Grace and Pringle Wilder, Sissi set out to find the Sweetie River. It was the one thing that kept her and Mary going, the stories of Pringle and her journey. Using Pringle's diary as a guide, Sissi was able to find the river and became captivated by the sweetiefish. The river led her to Moonbright, where she and Mary began a new life. They were adopted by a poet, the one who encouraged Sissi to publish Pringle's diaries and write her own books.

Sissi's a historian at the musuem as well as a part time writer and Mary's a preschool teacher. Moonbright is a small, idyllic town where nothing much really happens. After what Sissi and Mary have been through, they deserve a quiet life in the mountains.

Sissi admitted that she was reluctant to meet up with Lana, though she states that she doesn't hold any grudges towards Lana and her brothers for what their uncle did. Leaving the kids like that haunted Sissi too as they were too young to understand what was going on. Neither one knew how well the reunion was going to go but they knew that they needed closure, to finally put the past behind them for good.

Since then, Sissi and Lana have kept in contact, along with Mary and the boys. In fact, this is the first time all five of them have been together. Lana says it still feels so unreal, to see Sissi and Mary after all these years.

Once again, the sweetiefish have brought back what was lost. Pringle, Sissi, Mary, Lana, the boys - I wonder how many more lives the sweetiefish changed for the better. And with this fishing tourney, the sweetiefish work their magic again.

Pringle was right, sometimes lightning can strike the exact same spot more than once.

[woodworkingpastor]

Fleeing Barrenness -- Luke 13:1-9 -- March 7, 2021 -- Third Sunday of Lent

I learned recently of another disease that people around the world live with. Unlike the Cornoavirus, this malady is not new; it has been with us forever. It’s called apophenia. It’s nothing you would take a prescription for; it’s neither a rash that you treat with an ointment nor a virus that you treat with antibiotics. Apophenia is the tendency to perceive meaningful patterns in random events.

Apophenia is the bane of persons who create role playing games (things like escape rooms) because participants know they have to examine things carefully to find clues, but apophenia causes them to see patterns where there are none. One game creator set up a game where the first clue was almost childishly easy, only to watch in dismay as people were thrown off track by three pieces of wood on the floor that looked enough like an arrow pointing to a wall that participants assumed it was a clue. The game designer wrote, “these were normal people whose assumptions were normal, logical—and completely wrong.”

Learning how to properly understand and interpret events is a key to today’s rather challenging passage from Luke 13:1-9.

At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. He asked them, "Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did. Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them-- do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did."

Then he told this parable: "A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. So he said to the gardener, 'See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?' He replied, 'Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.' "

Ripped from the headlines

These verses are some that make us go “Huh” as we read them, before we simply move on to more popular or comforting passages of Scripture. We’re not quite sure what to make of the difficult stories or Jesus’ somewhat cryptic response to them.

These “ripped from the headlines” news stories refer to events we know virtually nothing about. If the internet had existed in Jesus’ day, then a simple Google search would allow us to read the news coverage of how Pilate had ordered soldiers to arrest (or kill?) a group of Galilean freedom fighters (or terrorists?) who were plotting an attack on the government. We could find Facebook or Instagram posts where people debated the motives of the Galileans and the appropriateness of Pilate’s response.

Similarly, our Google search could tell us about the tower of Siloam. We assume it to be an engineering failure and perhaps imagine that there were news reports of the event; perhaps human interest stories about the people who died in the collapse and the loss their families experienced. We would read of investigations into the collapse; maybe the construction was sub-standard or an inspector was bribed to look the other way.

But what our hypothetical internet search of these events would reveal is people trying to make sense of what happened. Luke shows us that people’s apophenia has kicked in and they’re asking, “Do these events fit some sort of larger pattern? Is there some unknown enemy operating behind the scenes, driving current events and even history itself in a direction away from righteousness and holiness?” We all know that bad things happen; what we find intolerable is bad things happening for no apparent reason.

We have our own headlines to rip events from, and we have our own apophenia which tries to find patterns in those events. From Covid-19 to car accidents and cold snaps to cancer diagnoses, we are not the first to wonder if the bad news around us is actually God’s judgment in disguise. We ponder that Jesus’ return must be near; surely the world can’t continue going the way it is.

Well, maybe. But a problem with this kind of thinking is that it often has more to do with apophenia than it does with Gospel. We are not the first generation of Christians to see difficult things happening in the world around us and speculate that they must mean the world is nearing an end.

The 160o’s was one of these times. Life was difficult in that century:

The average life expectancy of a European was 23-26 years.

The Thirty Years War (1618-1648) reduced the population of Germany from 21 million to 13 million, through war, destruction of crops, and disease.

In 1665, 70,000 residents of London died due to a plague; the next year 100,000 lost their place of shelter due to a massive fire.

People’s apophenia kicked in then, too. Alarming reports circulated that witches and warlocks were preying on people’s bodies, causing a rise in interest in the apocalyptic sections of the Bible and the rise of the Antichrist. People thought the Lord’s return must be imminent.

To the people who come to Jesus concerned with the actions of the government and a recent engineering disaster, Jesus rejects the notion of a correlation between these events and the sin of the people involved. God’s judgment is not being revealed; but that does not mean that God’s judgment is not real. We don’t need apophenia to construct a pattern where there is none, but we do need to repent, for we are all sinners.

Repent!

Jesus follows up his interpretation of current events with a parable to help the people of God see that current events are not as determinative as we think. We can become so caught up in a vision of how the world is “going to hell in a handbasket” that we neglect to give good attention to how we are giving witness to the Kingdom of God.

The parable has its own clues that show us that it is a story of the Kingdom of God. It is important to notice that the tree is in a vineyard; the vineyard was how Jesus’ contemporaries understood their identity as the people of God. In the vineyard, the primary task of trees is to produce fruit. We’re given a chance to change our ways and do what we were planted to do. Yes, we are concerned about what we see happening around us. But are we producing fruit?

It’s easy to look at difficult times and only see suffering and loss, especially when things were as bad as they were in the 1600’s. But when we look at church history more closely, we see that some of the hardest times led to the greatest church renewal; disease, disaster, destruction, and death are not the last word.

Sometime around 1670 a Pietist leader named Philip Jakob Spener established collegia pietatis. These “pious gatherings” were something of a new thing: they were Bible study groups that met in homes to discuss sermons and devotional readings, and to build up faithful believers.

His colleague Johann Arndt was a great supporter of these gatherings and took church renewal to the next level, advocating expanded use of these small groups, sermons that connected Christian doctrine and Christian life, and the importance of lay persons participating in Christian ministry, among other things.

Their work in spiritual renewal eventually captured the imagination of a man named Ernst Christoph Hochmann von Hochanau who became a well-known and well-travelled evangelist throughout central Germany, eventually settling in the village of Schwarzenau, where sometime around 1703 he met a man who was becoming increasingly frustrated with the spiritual coldness of the church in town—a man named Alexander Mack, the first leader of what is today the Church of the Brethren.

Spiritual renewal is never easy; the events of our time do impact our living. For Alexander Mack, bearing fruit for the kingdom meant leaving everything behind in Schwarzenau and by 1730 migrating to America with the rest of the Brethren. But from spiritual seeds planted in exceedingly difficult times, the Church of the Brethren today has over 600,000 members in 2,700 congregations and meeting points in 11 countries around the world.

When faced with difficult times, our calling is not to get sidetracked by our apophenia, but to be the faithful people of God in our current cultural circumstance. Sisters and Brothers, we are called to bear fruit, not live in fear and frustration!

[eternal-bruh]

Why being caught in a Casual Loop is best to be avoided: I

Chapter 3

With the significantly less amount of food Luffy has the option to ingurgitate, the time travelers finish their meal relatively quickly. None were more shocked than Sanji and the captain himself – the former becoming somewhat angry now that he knows that Luffy can survive without needing to eat a mountain of food, while the latter is trying his best not to start complaining. Their bill was fifty Pons, leaving Nami to collect the change in the form of smaller gold coins with the same engravings, but different amounts of value to them.

The afternoon sun was slowly starting its descent west when the group finally arrives at the gates of the palace. After bypassing the last row of houses and the suspiciously – but they cannot complain about it – largely open golden gate, they enter a trimmed garden filled with flowers of all kinds that gradually transforms into a small, exotic forest.

The large building stands at the other end of a stone path flanked on both sides by bushes and small trees, the occasional big crown of leaves towering over their heads and obstructing the sun's rays as they walk toward the large, gold tinted doors. At first glance Franky would be inclined to say they are made of wood, but the shipwright has his doubts that such a rich nation would waste so little money on their palace door. So he places his bet on heavy metal plated with gold and engraved with different scenes and images from nature to form a mural of sorts. It is painted in such a way that easily resembles wood, though.

"Stop right there!" A rough voice barks from the underbrush. The unrelenting sound of footsteps thudding on the ground that follows distracts the compact group long enough to let themselves get completely surrounded by the palace's supposed soldiers.

Zoro's snort is audible in the descending silence and it makes none too few of the armed men send scorching glares in his direction that are eagerly returned by the swordsman.

"What are they wearing?!" Usopp's question sums up in a few words all of the things the Strawhats are probably thinking right now.

The guards standing in front of them are only wearing a knee length pair of pants. A material of the same color of black that can be easily associated with a skirt over which there are two broad gold plates of armor. Their torso also sports a gold enhanced armor over a simple blouse and in their feet are strappy sandals. This ridiculous outfit completes itself with a curved, long, golden-tipped spear.

"I'm not sure, but I never want to see this sight again." Nami moans, resisting the urge to laugh out loud and instead chooses to rub her eyes as she tries to get rid of the image.

"Check this out – that guy on the right has a stupid looking helmet to boot." Sanji snickers behind his cigarette, looking entirely too nonchalant standing at the front of the captured group.

"Maybe it's a custom." Chopper tries, but even the small doctor does not look entirely convinced of his suggestion.

“Yeah, a custom of looking retarded-“

"What are you doing here?! State your names!" The man with the helmet barks out, interrupting Zoro and signing himself as the obvious captain of the squad slash overall idiot.

"May I, cook-san?" Robin smiles in amusement and steps forward, trying to look as unthreatening as she can under these circumstances. "We are sorry for intruding. We want to speak with the head of Science." She tries to repeat Sanji's earlier words as best as she is able to remember.

The man's brows furrow comically under the low edge of the helmet.

"And why would you want to speak with him? Normal citizens should know better!" He empathizes his declaration by slamming the end of his spear into the cobblestone walkway. "Who are you? Speak!"

Robin clicks her tongue quietly, not entirely sure what part of the truth she can answer him with. She sees Sanji and Zoro open their mouths at the same time and knows that this situation will get infinitely worse than it already is if they start digging. But before she can come up with a good enough lie, the trio’s simultaneous speeches are cut short by a new voice coming from behind the human barricade. The archaeologist sighs, thankful to the stranger for stopping the disaster.

"What is going on here?" The tone is low and smooth, but not thick enough to be attributed to an entirely gruff man.

Robin waits patiently along with her fidgety friends and quickly bored captain for the new figure to make his entrance. Inwardly, Robin allows herself a small spark of hope. Maybe this bad situation can somehow be solved. She may be able to find a way, especially if the newcomer is a high ranked member of the royal palace.

The line of soldiers breaks and they draw to the side to reveal a relatively tall black haired man. He does not step forward, opting to stand where he is and watch them with a disdainful expression plastered on his face. His dark eyes study their appearances attentively while a hand is securely placed on the hilt of the broad sword strapped at his hip. Fortunately, the newcomer is not dressed especially strange for the new standards they have encountered. He sports a long, dark blue toga tied with a yellow sash around his middle and a long red shawl cascades toward the ground bound by a golden brooch. His feet are clad in high sandals with armor plates strapped until his knees and wears golden bangles on his wrists.    

"Well, who the hell are you?" The man prods after a few tense moments of their stare down.

It strikes Robin as strange the way he carries himself around the soldiers and the woman realizes that they have just struck gold – pun ironically overlooked. This man is an important official on this island and he is from now their only way of achieving their task.

"We are travelers." The archaeologist sends a quick, warning look to the five people behind, who have their mouths immediately open after her first words. "And we wish to speak with the head of Science."

The official does not seem fazed. "So you know about it. What kind of travelers are you that you need an audience with him?" He returns, rightly suspicious. "You do not seem thoroughly important to me."

Robin's smile is tight, but still polite. "We are one of a kind."

The black haired man snorts. "I'm sure you are. Get them out of here." He addresses the soldiers, turning on his heels and starting to walk away from them.

The crew's historian feels a surge of panic as their captors start advancing on them, cutting off the image of the man's retreating back and she bites back a curse. There goes their chances of infiltrating this place without using blunt force or causing imminent destruction.

"What did he say, Robin?!" Luffy exclaims as he lifts his fists, willing to fight his way to wherever they are supposed to go.

"That bastard just turned and left!" Zoro roars, taking out two of his katana from under his dress and brandishing them in a sign of warning to their enemies.

"I guess the nice way doesn't work." Franky sighs, exasperated and whines. "Why do we always need to break our way through things?"

"That's what I've been asking myself ever since I joined up with Luffy!" Usopp cries out in agony, not willing to put up much of a resistance, but not up to the idea of getting caught and imprisoned either.

The Strawhat pirates form a tight circle, facing their soon-to-be captors with determined and battle-ready stances, an unspoken agreement passing between them as they watch their enemies slowly advance. They have to get to the head of the science department no matter what.

"Wait." The simple word reverberates through the air and serves as a shock even to the natives. They turn doubtful gazes towards their superior, silently asking him of the reason for the sudden interruption. The man steps forward this time, fixing the nine strangers with an unrelenting stare and he seems to ponder something.

Robin feels that scorching gaze burn her own brown one, ceaselessly searching for any kind of hint to their real identities. She knows that their language is what threw him off in the first place and turned him back around along with renewed interest. This is their last shot at this and she has to make sure that they find a way to explain everything.

"Bring them to my office." He consents in the end and Robin could have sighed in relief would it not looking too suspicious.

Instead she opts for a small smile and follows the man's retreating form with her gaze. He has already started trekking up the alley, leading the compact circle of soldiers keeping the Strawhats squeezed tightly in place toward the palace. It takes them five more minutes to reach the large doors, but their capturer sidesteps the entrance and makes a left turn, moving with practiced ease under the stone arcades along the polished wall of rock. Robin notes many more entrances which are either guarded or simply sealed off by doors and heavy bolted locks before the throng of people undulates to the right and sweeps her off along with them under a midnight blue mosaic featuring a lone moon and wavy sea.

The marble floors squeak under their footsteps, but these sounds barely register as the frescoed walls make way for a wide wooden door decorated with floral regalia and an intricate looking knob. The official pushes it open without hesitation and steps inside.

"Leave them here and close the doors!" He speaks over his shoulder, still awfully rigid and unwilling to offer anything but orders.

But that is to be expected, Robin muses to herself as the soft carpet greets her sandal clad feet and muffles their steps.

The man sporting the helmet looks to be on the verge of fainting.

"B-But my lord! They-"

Lord, huh?

"It's fine." A sharp look from him is all that the chief soldier needs to shut his mouth and execute the order.

A heavy latched silence settles above the grand room immediately as the pirates work to get accustomed with the lavishly decorated interior and the cluster of different items arranged in a haphazard manner. Nami is basically drooling at that moment and Robin surreptitiously tries to divert her attention from the too expensive objects thrown about the place in order to prevent any possible thievery that might result with them ultimately in jail.

Franky and Zoro have already made themselves comfortable on a soft looking sofa that is only big enough for the two of them. Usopp and Chopper started to follow Luffy's lead, aiding him in inspecting everything around the room. They look from the wall painted maps to the handmade tall vases and leather-bound books while Brook keeps himself busy by looking over a strange shaped piece of wood that – Robin realizes with no small amount of mirth – can pass for a large music instrument, if the cords attached to its length are anything to go by.

She angles her head to see the last of her crewmates quietly assessing their captor and she follows his lead, letting her brown orbs settle on the man's immobile form. He is leaning against a large office desk full of papers, the probing expression never wavering off his oval face. The archaeologist busiea herself with inspecting the rest of the space until the maddening stillness becomes too much for her. She lets her eyes find his and is surprised by the sudden spark of victory in them.

"You seem to be the one in charge." His words ring through the empty space, startling a few of her distracted friends.

Robin simply raises an eyebrow in return. "Why are we here?"

"What's your name?" The blunt inquiry leaves her speechless for a moment.

Zoro grunts from his lounging place and Sanji is already in the middle of opening his mouth, no doubt to mouth him off. Inwardly sighing at their quick to irritate wits, she cuts in calmly.

"Robin. Yours?" She counters curtly.

It is the man's turn to quirk an eyebrow.

"Linus." He states grudgingly, seeming to not have expected an answer at all.

"Linus..." Robin tries the name and finds it surprisingly simple to pronounce. "Can you help us?"

Linus remains silent, allowing her to explain herself before he answers her unexpected plea. He is still judging their existence here at all.

"We are in a strange situation. I know you might not believe us, but we are not from here."

The black haired man snorts in contempt. "Of course you are not! You might handle the language well enough, but your companions don't look like it for sure." His sharp gaze trails over the scrunched up faces of concentration the Strawhats have, studying them back with equal intensity. "Well? What is it you are?"

Robin braces herself for the inevitable reaction, although a part of her can't help but be tremendously curious what his response will be.

"We come from the future. Almost one thousand years in the future."

Silence rears its fangs for a short amount of time until Robin figures she might as well continue speaking.

"A strange man sent us here-"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Linus explodes, face caught somewhere between amusement and mockery. "You are seriously telling me that you traveled through time!" A snicker manages to escape him this time, earning a few glares from the pirates in return.

"Yes. Problem?" Zoro growls, not liking this ridiculously clothed man one bit.

"We tell the truth!" Sanji adds, scowling at the cynical bastard.

"Please help us-" Nami trails off when Linus bursts in full out laugher.

"Seems like you're all in on the joke!" He wipes his eyes, the corners of his mouth dropping into a grim line. "I must admit – this is a pretty bad lie, even for ordinary spies."

"... Spies?" Robin chokes, unable to believe how his thought process works. Surely this has to be a misunderstanding, but it is a little too big for her to consider it only their fault. Now she understands why Linus came back and knows that his sudden decision to take them here is to entrap them with no further chance of escape. And they let him, trusting that they might find a way to make him understand and help them.

Seeing the distressed expression on their archaeologist's face, the Strawhats immediately spring into action.

"What!" Franky roars, not knowing enough to form a full sentence.

"... Sounded bad, I think." Usopp is telling a frenzied Chopper, trying to calm him down without using their native language.

"Robin-" Nami shakes her shoulder, beads of sweat trailing down her forehead and eyes darting to and from her friend to Linus's laidback form, still watching them frigidly.

"What'd he say, Robin?"

The question sounds so awfully familiar, but still too foreign to have a place in a setting like this. Feeling a tap on her other shoulder, Robin turns around to face her captain who is calmly picking his nose, though there is a light of concentration in his eyes that is usually common in such situations. She tries to convey through her gaze the tremendous amount of helplessness that she is experiencing now, some primal instinct inside her head speaking in reassuring whispers that Luffy will make this right.

"Yohoho, it seems that this is not helping our position with Linus-san at all!" Brook's trademark laugh is visibly subdued at the back of the room, almost spoken like a hushed warning.

But Luffy is having none of it and Robin fights against that easy road of letting her captain do the bidding where it is not due. This is her problem to deal with because no one can withhold the diplomatic charade. Luffy least of all.

Robin looks in Linus’ direction and knows that the skeleton was speaking the truth. The man is clearly tense and a frown is etched deep on his forehead.

But under all this, she is curious. "You know this language?"

Her inquiry throws the official off for a second.

"Of course I know it." Linus barks, having regained his composure. "Don't mistake me for an ignorant, continentals!"

"Continentals? You mean those from the continent?" Nami inquires, smiling proudly when she gets an affirmative answer.

"So only those living on the continent speak this language?" Robin taps her chin as she recalls the map Zahra had shown them and tries to put the facts together.

Linus nods warily, eyeing their various mix of surprise and lost reactions with undeterred suspicion.

"But why do those tribe’s people speak your language then?" Because she is fairly certain that the place they've woken up in was on the continent. Especially now that it is confirmed that their language is spoken there.

The black haired man purses his lips. "We have conquered some of the towns near the shore and they learned our language as a result." His eyes narrow in distaste. "But this was over a hundred years ago! Why do those bastards keep sending you over and over?!"

"Who?" Sanji, Usopp and even Chopper burst out at the same time, making Linus reel back.

"Your bosses!" The official roars, tired of their clueless attitude, though his chest deflates a little bit when his prisoners only continue to give him blank looks that turn out to become quite unnerving. Particularly that black haired kid's with the straw hat that is digging through his nostrils still. He looks capable of murdering someone with that face while eating dinner at the same time. Even so, he ignores it all and nicely tries one last time to make them speak.

"The damn continentals living in that so-called Holy Capital, Mariejois!"

"Ohh!" Luffy's finger pops out of his nose with an uncomfortably explicit sound and he smiles widely. "What's up with them?"

Linus waits, but the translation does not come to him willingly. Feeling a vein begin to pulse dangerously in his temple, he turns to Robin with a nasty glower that makes the woman blink.

"What did he just say?!"

The archaeologist takes a moment to look at Luffy. Her captain only shrugs, helpless.

"He asked what is it you want with them?"

Linus moves his glare back on Luffy. "I want you to spill all their secrets, of course!" He raises his head to face the room at large. "Who are you and what have you been ordered to do here?!"

Robin bites her lip as the last echoes of his exclamation fade out. She’ll be damned if some of his words just don't make sense to her.

"Robin told you. If you trust us or not is not my problem." Zoro intervenes, fixing the pretentious guy with a deadpan stare.

It is obvious to Linus that none of the others are going to add anything else to the guy’s words.

He scoffs. "You expect me to believe you?"

"Not our problem if not. Yohoho!" Brook takes the swordsman’s example and happily answers in the same manner.

"We do not have anything to do with the continentals since all of us have been living on islands until we set out to sea." Robin explains patiently. "This is our captain," she rests a hand on Luffy's shoulder, "and he has already kicked a citizen of Mariejois in the face in the future."

Linus' jaw hangs open by the end of her statement. He sways unsteadily between Luffy's unconcerned gaze and Robin's amused one with no short amount of doubt.

"Time travel is impossible." Since they do not seem to be joking on the former story, Linus decides to tackle another important point in their conversation. Though he grimaces when his mind counters his own statement right way.

Robin lets her restless captain go join Brook and Usopp in their latest discovery, never once breaking her gaze from Linus'.

"We thought so, too. But here we are."

Her words seem to resonate with the official well enough and the archaeologist feels a new surge of hope wash over her. Maybe now she can make him listen.

"If you would just listen to our story-" Robin's words halt as abruptly as Linus' face blanches and looses all color.

All in the space of five seconds.

The black haired woman does not have to turn around to know what is probably happening behind her back and, judging by the snap of rebounding rubber, she is tragically correct.

Nami's hiss of his name interrupts the straw hat wearer from admiring his latest catch – a golden monkey with a big smile on its face and hands full of carved fruits that is almost the same height as Chopper. Brook was the first one to spot it on one of the bookshelves, but even the musician's reach proved to be too short to get to it so the captain had taken it upon himself to remedy the pinch they found themselves into. Angling his head to the side, Luffy blinks innocently when he sees that the rest of his friends are in similar states of incredulity as that Linus man that has caught them. Speaking of the guy, he does not look too friendly in that moment as he takes a series of wide, confident steps toward Luffy. He closes the gap in five strides. As the man draws to a stop in front of him, Luffy wonders if maybe that monkey is that important to him after all.

Smiling amiably and certainly not minding the heat emanating from his stare alone, the pirate captain offers it back to him.

"Sorry!"

Linus lifts his hand, presumably to take it back. Luffy is almost prepared to sigh in relief at the aloof face accompanying the gesture. That is, until he finds the corner of his mouth caught by a finger and stretched to its maximum length. An obvious gap between him and normal people becomes awfully visible as the skin keeps on stretching and stretching. He watches as Linus studies him calmly and tries to keep as still as possible, though it is to no avail in the end when his fidgety nature takes hold of him after five minutes tops.

The official sighs and lets the rubbery mouth go when Luffy starts shuffling his feet on his polished floor, creating a series of infernal squeaks from hell. He marches back to his office desk, ignoring the strangers' darned stares boring into his back. A hand goes to ruffle through his already unruly hair in frustration, his mind working a thousand miles per second to make sense of what he has just seen. It isn't that he is shocked – no, he is stunned, perturbed and maybe a little bit offended on the side.

"I know our captain is a little... different. But I can explain!"

Linus hears that Robin woman speak hurriedly, jolting him out of his thoughts. He has unwillingly ended up behind his desk office with her on its other side. Robin’s face is a mask of desperation and her eyes are pleading for him to understand.

Not in the mood to hear any more excuses, he holds up a halting hand to her open mouth.

"I believe you."

Robin chokes back her tears, unable to comprehend how such a simple act as Luffy showing his powers can make him believe their story, but she doesn't dare try her luck.

"How come?" Zoro stands up from the couch. He takes slow, deliberate steps toward the man behind the desk.

Linus does not mind the approaching stranger and instead focuses on the kid holding his family’s legacy and looking as present as a tree.

"Who the bloody hell are you, kid?" He asks, anticipating the nonexistent answer. It seems that he is only capable of understanding that reeking language of theirs. "Name?"

His shout is more of an order and it startles Luffy enough to almost make him drop the statue, but the usually carefree teen returns to his friendly personality at once when his brain finally makes the connection. That, and Sanji and Franky making ‘cut it’ gestures behind Linus’ back while Usopp keeps mouthing the translation.

Grinning broadly, the raven head answers the easily irritated guy boldly.

"I, Monkey D. Luffy! Nice to meet you!"

Robin watches Linus' face fall for the second time in ten minutes and feels an alarming need to run away as the first waves of understanding nip at the edges of her mind. He declares it is impossible, but then says he believes them. No matter how she looks at it, there is only a plausible answer – somehow or the other, he knows something about Luffy's powers. The archeologist is sure that she should have intervened earlier, but it is too late now. The ball is already rolling down the hill of disaster and the destination is a miserable plain full of lava where maybe they will be thrown in once this deal is over.

"Impossible." Linus's face does not betray the wide array of emotions raging inside of him.

"It's the truth."

It is Zoro who decides to give said metaphorical ball one last good kick into the abyss with a well formulated grammatical sentence to booth. He crosses his arms, daring the strange man to offer a half assed answer this time.

The black haired official's blank expression does not falter as he lifts his hand, hooks his index finger at the corner of his mouth and pulls it to shocking lengths. The Strawhats' jaws fall open collectively and the sound of rebounding rubber seems to echo forever in their ears.

"Because this is my power. And I'm Monkey Linus."

"Please tell me that I translated it wrong in my head!" Usopp's desperate whisper easily carries across the still air inside the room.

"Unfortunately," being easily the most collected out of them all, Robin settles on making sure that this revelation won't degrade into another argument, "your proficiency in the language is very remarkable."

Despite the fact that the statement is supposed to be a compliment, the sniper's spirits quickly deflate and burn away to nothingness.

"Eh?" Luffy's back draws up, shoulders squaring as if in preparation of a strike even though he is watching the situation unfold without a clue as to what is going on. An easy-going smile finds its way on his face as he asks in a broken, foreign language he doesn't even have the patience to learn.

"You have the same name kind of me? How come?" Jet black eyes narrow in mock suspicion. "Are us revealed?!"          

"Related is for related, captain." Robin gently corrects him. "You just said you two are revealed."

The raven head blinks and simply breathes out an "Oh." without any meaning or emotion behind it.

“Shit, Luffy and I thought he looked like you.” Sanji shakes his head at the ridiculousness of it all. “But seriously!”

“Wha! He looks like me?!” Luffy exclaims, swiveling his head to see if his friends are of the same opinion. Or maybe he is just looking for a mirror in the hoard of things Linus has cluttered in his office.

"But this is probably the only explanation." The archaeologist continues over her captain’s shouts, minding how the man behind the massive office table stiffens, tenses and deflates all in that particular order while a hand is raking through his locks and another pulls at his collar.

Now that she looks at it from this perspective, Linus and Luffy have a few things in common appearance-wise that she hasn’t had the chance to spot until now. Their eyes and hair are both similar in color, though Linus' hair is already reaching the nape of his neck and cascades over his eyes in disheveled waves. His nose is the same shape too, though the skin tone is way darker than Luffy's. The two are lanky, but the native is a little bit taller and Robin wonders how she didn't see all of these similarities behind the subtle differences that have impeded her to look further into it.

"You might be our captain's ancestor." Robin winces at the bluntness of her well-thought out statement and the overwhelming effect it has on its victim.

Linus jumps and looks at them with a face well worthy of the most distressed of people, looking like he doesn’t know how they got in there and what they want from him. The man shakes his head fervently, making his longer hairs sway wildly with the motion.

"This is too much."

In spite of the heavy atmosphere clouding the office, Luffy is full of boundless energy. The pirate captain struts up to the edge of the desk without any consideration for personal space and distance advisable for this kind of situation.

"Do you have a family, too? You're living on Raftel right?! How awesome is that! Hey, where's the D. in your name, though? You don't have it? By the way – did you eat the Gum Gum Fruit?"

Linus lifts up a halting hand in front of the kid's way too close face. He scrunches up his nose at the position he is in – almost all over his desktop – and the joyful smile is not helping matters any. Not to mention that he didn’t understand a shit of what the kid has just rapid-fired and it only serves to annoy him further. His eyes shift to Robin, patiently waiting, and grits his teeth. He doesn't like relying on that woman because maybe – just maybe, please Lord make this surely – this is all an invention in the end and they are amazingly good actors despite the fact that none of them really look the part.

She can be easily translating some other shit that the kid hasn't said and he will be none the wiser until it is too late. No, he won't fall for tricks without any real solid evidence. What does he know – maybe they managed to duplicate his innate power, those bastards from the continent. No, he will put a stop to this charade even if he has to learn the language of the continent.

Robin seems to get the general idea behind his stare so he says. "Translate."

The suspicious foreigner smiles thinly and Linus knows that she isn't all that oblivious to his inner thoughts as he has hoped.

"Our captain asks if you do not have the name D. too." The black haired woman abstains from asking the other two very personal questions. It surely won’t help them if her suspicions that they haven't yet been fully believed prove to be right.

Linus quirks an eyebrow in confusion. He has never heard of the name D. before.

"The hell’s D? Is this how continentals call us?"

In retrospect, he should have thought it out better, but whatever. It isn't like he wants to make friends with these people anyway. Robin giggles behind her hand.

"Probably." She answers airily.

The native blinks when a finger invades his field of vision. Luffy's face is contorted into what should have been a serious expression – on a normal person's face.

"You..." The rubber man begins, but trails off as he tries to search for another word he knows. "Eat... Devil berry?"

"How do you know berry, but you don't know fruit?!" Usopp and Sanji yell as one from the back.

"What is he asking me if I ate a berry?" Linus asks Robin curiously.

"He is talking about fruits. Devil Fruits to be exact. Did you eat one?"

The man's eyes involuntarily narrow on the rubber culprit as he chooses his next words carefully.

"No, I did not." This notion does not seem to shock Robin too much. "What are Devil Fruits?"

"Stop asking stupid things. Take us to Science or we will find it." Zoro speaks up suddenly, a hand going under his heavy green shawl to rest on his swords in a gesture of warning.

"Unfortunately, our friend is right." Robin smiles at the way Linus frowns heavily when she confirms that the green haired man near the door is armed and ready to strike. "I am sure that you have heard of Devil Fruits since you look like an important person around here. As he said," she crosses her arms over her chest, summoning four new limbs that sprout from her shoulder blades, "please take us there or step aside."

A few minutes of silence punctuated only by Luffy's incessant swaying in place and Brook's attempts at playing the strange instrument he had discovered have Linus at the edge of his fried nerves and he swears that the gazes boring into him are starting to catch fire. He doesn't want to give them the satisfaction of winning and letting them infiltrate deeper into the castle. But at the same time – when he thinks about it – this is the best place they should be in. Not roaming the streets, but kept under strict surveillance. He supposes that if he plays his cards right and keeps it in a safe zone with at least five soldiers per intruder, there is no chance of escaping or destroying too many things in case a fight breaks out.  

Yes, under his watchful gaze they can't leave anywhere and he'll always make sure that they stay glued to each other. So he supposes that he can indulge their stupid pleas and guide them to the Science department. As much as he isn't a fan of that place maybe that idiot head of the department can figure out why the hell they possess such powers in the first place. Now that Robin woman presses on with her faux powers that seem too real and he feels this... whatever it is, is going too fast and too far for him to be completely comfortable living through.

The black haired man clears his throat, making sure to not look at the rubber kid picking his nose again lest he'll lose hope for his future. He steps away from the desk.

"Alright. But it will be done under my conditions."

Not holding any qualms about showing his powers – they already know all about them, he is sure – he extends his hand all the way to the other side of the room and bangs on it loud and hard. As expected, a soldier opens it just as his arm returns to its normal size.

"Sir?"

"Surround them and follow me. Make sure none of them gets away!" Linus commands as he exits the room first. "If they aren't nine by the time we arrive at the Volcano, some of you will lose their heads!"

The chief soldier gulps and nods.

"Hey, old man! Can I take the monkey?" Luffy yells after Linus' retreating form, but is not once acknowledged.

Nami slaps him over the head and tells him to let it go. Pouting heavily, Luffy falls to the back with Franky and Brook.

"I believe that it will be better if you leave it here. Lest you risk bringing damage to it, Luffy-san." The joyful skeleton pats the younger pirate on the back reassuringly.

"Brook's right, bro. You can just come back and see it later." Franky wisely advises as he follows his crewmates out of the door, making a point of glaring at the men all around them.

The rubber pirate nods hesitantly and deposits the statue back on the ground. He promises it that he’ll come back, though he never stops pouting in protest.

They pass by a series of other spacious hallways, each one decorated in a radically different style than the others. None of the works of art and design even remotely blend with one another. The abrupt change whenever they pass into another room is almost nauseating, but Robin is of another opinion.

"It just demonstrates the vast culture of this kingdom." She explains to her friends, eyes alight.

"Or maybe they just don't know how to decorate." Usopp whispers to Chopper who is perched on Zoro's shoulders. The two nod sagely in return.

After ten minutes of continuous walking and seeing nothing but furniture, protests from Luffy predictably spring up from the back, mingling with Usopp's own mumbles on random things that have caught his eye. Linus is already sick of it five minutes later when they exit the building and are in the middle of traversing the courtyard, stealthily making their way around the officials' offices on the less popular path that will be able to hide their significant numbers. It’s late in the evening so people are either still working or have already gone back home.

The first tower has just sprung up from behind the corner when he hears it. Loud and clear. It is a fleeting wish to hope that he has imagined it, but when his name is clearly shouted out for the second time from behind, Linus knows that his masterful sneaking has been in vain after all and resigns himself to his fate.

"Lord Draco!"

As one, the soldiers step away to make way for the newly arrived. Linus' eye twitches when he realizes who it is.

"Father." He inclines his head out of respect. "What brings you here?"

Both decidedly ignore the sputtering coming from the glob of soldiers and, incidentally, the Strawhat pirates. The older man does not need to know that, though. The tall, black haired official nods and smiles serenely at him.

"I was just passing by. It's so rare to catch you out and about. Are you paying him a visit?"

Linus sniffs in disdain, a motion that makes him feel like he is ten years old again. "Hardly." He allows reluctantly. "I have some business to attend to in the Volcano."

"I see you have guests, Linus!" A woman's voice chirps from behind Draco and a face immediately appears to match it. "Are you telling me that he's given you an important job?" She teases, a smirk crawling its way on her face.

The young woman is petite, easily blending behind the taller men. She has a shawl over her head that she takes off, revealing long, curly orange locks.

"Mellorine~!"

"You mean that you know the word for that in this language?!" Usopp cries out as quietly as he can, one hand tugging at his hair while the other yanks at Sanji's clothing to keep him from assaulting that pretty lady.

Ignoring the ruckus behind her, Robin studies the fair young woman with eyes the color of the sea, round and shining and a slim body dressed in a silk white dress with another colorful semi-transparent shawl draped over her shoulders. She is holding a thick book in her arms, having no qualms about not keeping a respectable distance from who, Robin guesses, is her superior.

Linus' dad, the archeologist has to admit, looks almost exactly like their captain's own father – the revolutionary Dragon from their time. Which is eerie and completely scary if she is going to be entirely honest. He certainly sports the long hair part, though what keeps the tattoo's place is a scar from the corner of his left eye that trails along his neck and under his white shirt. And he looks the tough man part, too.

Draco smiles in amusement at the sputtering glob that is his son and the winning grin his secretary has. Those two can never get along, can they?

"Now, Laelia, don't aggravate him further. I have trust that Linus knows what he's doing best."

Linus stops short, straightens his back and throws the irritating woman one last glare before inclining his head toward the other respectfully.

"Thank you father. Now if you will excuse us-"

"Governor!"

The trio looks to the caller, a man with a violent green mohawk hairstyle and green tinged sunglasses who is approaching with a noticeable skip in his step.

"He's dressed normally like us, though..." Chopper's remark trails off into nothingness because the sheer impossibility at pulling off such a look is beyond zero point one percent whatever era you live in.

"Robin, what is that?" Nami hisses a little too audibly, causing a few soldiers to shoot her warning glares. The orange head could care less in that moment, though, since she is too preoccupied with assisting Usopp in stopping an impending love ballad by their love-struck cook for the ‘fair Laelia’.

"Governor.” Robin replies. “It seems that Draco-san is the governor of this island."

"Meaning a high-ranked official." Zoro concludes as he crosses his arms behind his head. "You seemed pretty attentive to the guy." The swordsman eyes the archeologist critically. "Anyone you might know?"

Robin releases a soft snort. "That man is in the same situation as our captain."

She angles her head to look at Zoro’s raised eyebrow. He could never let go of his curiosity about the Revolutionaries. "He bears much resemblance to Luffy's own father, Dragon the revolutionary. Though that is when the similarities stop. Because this man is clearly not a world-renowned criminal."

"You never know, Robin." Franky says dryly and fixes his sunglasses up on his nose, more at ease now that they have proof these existed in this time, too.

Robin is about to answer the ridiculous assumption, but freezes when her eyes meet Draco's. It is the first time he has looked in their direction and she can't help but feel a bead of sweet trail down her spine. Every instinct she possesses scream that this man is as dangerous as they come and she honestly believes it when she finds herself standing under that scorching black stare. The historian abstains from sighing in relief when he finally breaks eye contact and gulps a much needed breath of air.

"You felt it too, right?" Zoro's question brings her back to reality and she nods, still a little wobbly. She catches his hand clenching around the hilt of Wado from the corner of her eye and knows that the swordsman will be watching out for this man. As will she.

"Well then, see ya' later!" Laelia winks in Linus’ direction and lifts her enclosed hand as if to throw something at him.

The Strawhats tense, but their host remains impassive under the sparkly shower that seems to erupt from the palm of her hand which compromises of small spheres of light – courtesy of the annoyingly persistent woman who has made it her personal mission to tease the hell out of him. He will never understand the kind of people his father works with.

Shaking his head slowly after their departing forms, Linus turns his head and finds dumbstruck faces that belongs to his current... chores. And immediately regrets turning at all. Why, oh, why him?

In the end he huffs in discontent. "Come and don't cause a ruckus."

He is pleased to see that they follow him obediently enough.

They finally arrive at the so-called 'Volcano' – which proves to be a circular building shaped exactly like one and thus deserving of the name – and enter through a conspicuously named door that spells 'Exit'. Linus insists that they are not officials on business or anyone too important and so makes sure to remind them that he still doesn’t trust their intentions or their freakishly fictional story. Usopp lifts a finger up in protest and wants nothing more than to remind Luffy’s freakish ancestor himself about his not-at-all freakish, of course powers that don’t, apparently, come from a Devil Fruit.

But now the Strawhats are captives here. And judging by the sturdy walls of steel, now with no escape.

Nami continues to look out of the nearest window whenever they pass by one and sees the 'cone' of the thing. It has a large circumference closed off with glass, and it’s smaller than the encompassing walls like a snail in a shell. She figures that they are inside the outer wall that is a large, almost cavernous structure which does not give any good vibes no matter how you look at it. It’s obvious that it stops or allows 'official entrance' to presumed visitors. Not for the first time, the navigator is sure to direct a burning glare at the back of Linus' head. Even if the man is supposedly Luffy's ancestor, though even this is at the stage of theory only, he proves to be an annoying little prick with trust issues. Unlike their captain, who is annoying but means well most of the time and especially when it matters. And he smiles not scrunches up his nose or scowls like a certain somebody is prone to do.

"I question what power she has. Hmm..." Brook breaks the silence with a joyous hum of melody, handing the little notebook back to Robin in silent gratitude.

"It was all... light." Zoro tries, but gives up when he can’t find the right word.

"Sparkly, maybe? Sparkly." Robin offers and receives a grateful nod from the swordsman in return.

"Sparkly, sparkly!" Chopper agrees happily, clapping his hoofs. "Maybe she light power?"

"Probably. I wonder who has this in the present." Usopp ponders, rubbing his chin like he is trying to summon all the answers.

"I have feeling it that guy in Sabaody." Franky scowls at the sour memory of their asses getting beaten and sent to the five corners of the world.

"Eh?" Luffy's head snaps up from whatever he has been doing with his head bent down to that unfortunate angle. "Why's everyone speaking in that mystery language?"

He gets himself a fist over the head for his wonderings.

"Because we have to mix with the other people!" Nami barks at the clueless idiot.

"Kind of late for that now." Linus snorts, but never falters in his rapid pace through the deserted hallways. "But it is admirable to see you are trying. You were close by the way. That woman can control light."

"Light." Robin translates. She raises an eyebrow. “You seem rather disgruntled, Linus.”

Linus scoffs and ignores her. He doesn’t feel obligated to explain anything to her.

"Light?" Luffy's head falls to the side. "Like that Kizaru guy, right?"

"Seems so." The cyborg grunts.

"What did he say that it 'seems so'?" The official turns his head and – oh, there it is, Nami thinks – he frowns at them.

"A man named Kizaru from our time has this kind of powers.” Robin helpfully details. “He can control light at will and move at blinding speeds."

Linus raises an eyebrow, but continues to remain otherwise unresponsive.

"This guy irritates me." Sanji mumbles, rolling an unlit cigarette between his lips stressfully. "But that mellorine was such a beauty!" The cook coos, eyes already transformed into beating hearts.

In front of the group, Linus discretely mimics repeatedly throwing up at the guy's stupid bouts of gushing over someone he hadn't even met in person. Linus kind of envies him for this.

It was fifteen minutes of continuous walking through incessant halls and connecting archways before they arrive at a nondescript metal door displaying nothing but the inscription for the number one on it. Linus opens it without knocking and the soldiers step aside obediently to allow them entrance in what seems like another world.

There is technology everywhere you look, ranging from machines to several doubtful substances flowing through loops of tubes and a variety of tools sometimes glimpsed in Franky's own arsenal. The shipwright himself whistles at the piece of future in the very past that greets him. He lifts his sunglasses in order to inspect a cutting machine that is carving through rock as his friends further examine the room at large.

None of them are remotely in touch with the equipment here, but they can understand the probability of finding such things here would be virtually null under normal circumstances. Or is it?

"Is that really you?!" A man's voice that is decidedly not Linus', cries from one corner of the room.

Then clanks and chinks follow along with the sound of things probably breaking or colliding with other hard surfaces before a middle-aged man, dressed in contrastingly simple clothes consisting of brown pants and a shirt, stumbles out from the mess. He catches the grumpy official standing in the middle of the mess that is the room in a bear hug.

The Strawhats can only make out his dirty blond hair and freckled face under the cascade of tears that flows from his eyes.

"Stop this already!" Linus shouts and hauls the man back on his feet. He clicks his tongue, trying hard not to rearrange his disheveled clothes. "I swear this is why I don't ever visit you!"

The scientist laughs merrily as he wipes his eyes and attempts to straighten his rumpled white shirt, though it seems like a lost cause.

"Sorry, sorry! But I still can't believe you're here-"

Linus rolls his eyes, already tuning him out. Unfortunately, this allows his mind to register other things such as the sharp intake of breath that comes from the group behind him. It can only be possible if at least three of those crazy pirates would inhale in unison and how the hell can someone even do this unconsciously?

The Strawhats part under his accusatory gaze until he is staring at the troublemaking kid that they call their captain.

The straw hat wearer sports a peculiarly shocked and troubled expression that Linus doesn’t dare start to question lest he'll want to lose half a day doing so. It looks like the kid’s seeing a very well projected ghost. But Linus doesn’t believe in ghosts – or well, at least he doesn’t yet. After today he’s totally prepared to find one, too.

So he simply turns fully around to face the group and notes with approval that the guards have closed the door and remained obediently outside. He lifts a hand to introduce the man shifting from foot to foot next to him.

"S-Sab-"

"This is Sappho. He is the head of the science department that you've been so adamant to meet." Despite the lingering smugness swimming inside his chest, Linus is becoming concerned over the level of shock that emanates from the group at large now. It is like that they are seeing a ghost.

"Why the hell are you all looking like idiots now?" He asks dryly.

"Ah, it is just that someone we know looks like him." Zoro inwardly congratulates himself for pulling that sentence out right at first try.

"Really? I'm kind of surprised." Sappho scratches his cheek in embarrassment before a warm smile blooms on his face.

Linus is taken aback by the sudden outward display of emotions. He knows the man better than that to know that he wouldn't normally act like this, but the Sappho’s next statement shakes him to the core.

"I'm happy to finally meet you! I've been waiting for the ‘Strawhat’ pirates to arrive."

Chapter 4

[artificialqueens]

Gutted (Katya/Violet) - Fryshook

Violet and Katya - or rather Jason and Brian - run into each other in L.A. and reminisce about a close call on the road. And then they keep running into each other. Kinda.

AN: As seen on Ao3.

Meeting went well but idk. We’ll see what happens. Don’t forget that I’m flying in at 7am Weds. Pls don’t sleep in and make me have to talk to another fucking wannabe DJ who just does Uber as a side gig

Jason sent off the text and headed out of the WoW offices. The young Queen looked up from a particularly hypnotic thirst trap in time to notice a black-clad guy in a baseball cap also stopping to check his phone before exiting out onto the street. A smile crept onto Jason’s face.

“Dad?”

Katya - well, Brian, at the moment - whipped his head around to find Violet Chachki- or Jason, rather; Violet would surely be into a guy that jacket, but wouldn’t be caught dead in it, not to mention the floppy hat- standing in the door frame of the abandoned waiting room.

“I thought I smelled something,” Brian cackled, swooping his young friend into a hug, lifting skinny Jason Dardo off their feet like an uprooted sapling. He threw in a couple dry humps before setting the young Queen down and stepping back to get a better look.

“Look at you, you fuckin’ giraffe carcass.” He tweaked the big black hat covering Jason’s head. “Is nice,” he said, Russian accent thick, before dropping back into his natural voice: “How are you?”

Jason shrugged. “Getting laid, getting paid… I missed you, bitch.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m an All Star. No! You don’t even answer my texts, bitch!”

Jason rolled their eyes. That’s not true, but it’s not…not true.

“Look, Katya,” Jason shifted, posing. “I have to maintain boundaries. I am, after all… a winner.”

Brian laughed through his teeth as he slowly wrapped his hands around Jason’s neck. Jason laughed as the smaller man thought better of this move, dropping his hands and stepping away with a sniff.

“No, no…” he said. “You’d like that too much.”

Jason stared at Brian, taking her in. It was a night off, apparently, so her - his, Brian’s, beard was creeping in, a touch of silver shining on his cheek. Jason suppressed a weird urge to reach out and touch it.

Jason really had missed Brian more than they realized; not Katya blowing up Violet’s twitter mentions at 2am with some amusing nonsense (Jason hated this because it was stupid but also because it made them miss Brian’s sleep-deprived babbling on that disgusting tour bus), but Brian, right here, rolling his eyes and huffing behind those big, fake glasses.

Brian, who always answered the door when Jason, drunk and giggling and full of dumb ideas, knocked.

“I honestly don’t remember the last time I saw you when we weren’t like. Working,” Jason said, finally. Brian nodded slowly, his features narrowing with suspicion.

“You’re being shady,” he said, the smallest hint of a laugh in his voice. “You’re judging me for living my lumberjack fantasy.”

Jason rolled their eyes. “No, bitch. Sometimes I just forget that you’re like…” And now Jason did dare to reach out, their thumb just barely grazing the edge of Brian’s cheekbone,”…a dude.”

Brian’s eyes locked with Jason’s as they slowly dropped their hand away from his face, a curious smile tugging at his lips.

“Excuse you,” he said, scratching his chin. “Some of of the most beautiful women in the world have aggressive facial stubble.”

“Whatever you say,” Jason said. “Hot douche.”

That smile returned. “That’s ‘hottest’ douche,” Brian said.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Brian laughed. “I see what you’re doing, Chachki, and no, I will not choke you out, you horny, horny, little freak.”

*

About two thousand variants of “you’re fucking stupid”s later, Jason followed Brian home to his new pad in the hills which was, as expected, a fucking disaster.

“You need to hire a damn maid, bitch. Get it together.“ A thick booklet on the coffee table caught Jason’s eye. They took a hit off Brian’s vape pen and leaned over to pick it up, flipping through the pages. “The fuck is this? Your erotica manuscript? Am I in it?”

“I know you’ll probably never see one of these again,” Brian began, “but it’s a film script, darling.”

Jason stared at him, a small smile sneaking across their face. “Biiiiitch.”

Brian grinned, snatching the script away and tossing it back onto the table. “Got my SAG card and everythang.”

“Girl, you don’t gotta tell me,” Jason said. “I’ve seen your balls.”

Brian snatched a throw pillow and began to beat Jason with it. “Rotted-gutted-giraffe-cunt!” He tossed the pillow across the room and waited for Jason’s giggling to subside. “I’m still not gonna choke you.”

They sat on the couch in silence for a long stretch after this, smoking. And then Jason said:

“Do you remember Manchester?”

Brian nodded.

“No, I mean…” Jason looked at Brian now, who returned their gaze, his face unreadable. “Do you remember…? It was my birthday…”

Brian nodded again, slowly. “I remember.”

“You were so funny,” Jason muttered, embarrassed. Not sure why they brought it up. “You like, slapped my phone to the ground.”

“Girl.” Now there was an edge to the Bostonian’s usually soft voice. “You were blitzed and I was in my goddamned motherfuckin’ robe. I didn’t want you to record whatever was happening.”

“Yeah, but. What was happening?”

Brian rolled his eyes, tossing his glasses onto the table.

“I don’t know! I mean, at the time I had half a mind to think you were gonna ask me to put my ding-a-ling in your butt, but instead…”

“Tell me I didn’t ask you to do a shot with me,” Jason said.

“Ya asked me to do a shawt with ya,” Brian replied, voice low and slow, Southie accent thick. “Birthday cake vodka, if I recawl.” He cleared his throat and took a huff off his pen. “Something vile like that.”

Jason squeezed their eyes shut and sighed, collapsing backward onto the couch.

“We didn’t,” Jason groaned.

“No, no.” Brian cooed, patting and rubbing Jason’s thigh. When he stopped, Jason opened their eyes and looked at him. He was staring straight ahead at the taxidermy fox frozen on the table. “You did give me a hand job, though.”

Jason’s jaw dropped. Brian met his gaze, stone faced, for what felt like an eternity before finally breaking into a grin.

“You fucking bitch,” Jason felt their heart beat return to normal and relaxed into the couch, Brian’s cackle cracking into their fuzzy brain like a baseball bat.

*

They watched a couple of episodes of Hoarders and chatted a bit about Garbage Island and inevitable environmental destruction before Jason, reluctantly, decided to head back to their hotel in the city, a) because it was very late, but mostly b) because Brian did not offer them a place to sleep, whether that be a spot on the couch, or in his bed.

Which was… fine. It would have probably been a little weird anyway.

Actually, the only odd thing was how Brian dodged Jason’s texts the next day. Which was… well, too bad, because before they knew it, Jason was back home in NYC, working, goofing off with Brad, and trying not to let their mind wander back to the blond Masshole in the Hollywood hills.

Which was… difficult, seeing as Katya had infiltrated every aspect of “mainstream” drag and could be avoided about as effectively as one could avoid salt. You can try your damnedest, but bitch, it’s in everything. Especially if you leave the house. Even in fucking Williamsburg.

So after about a month of this, Jason went out, got drunk (oh, they were having a good time), whipped out their phone and tweeted: I am so going to fuck @Katya_Zamo in Mexico City.

Ignore that, they thought, slipping the phone back into their pocket and grinning at a drunken and very perplexed Bradley Callahan, who hesitantly smiled back.

“What?” He said, handing Jason a colorful shot.

“Go look at what I just tweeted,” Jason said, downing the drink and yelping like a wet poodle.

Brad opened up his phone and scoffed. “Bitch, nobody’s gonna buy that.”

Jason squinted at him, offended. Brad took a long sip of his drink, waiting. Jason thought for a moment, swiftly tapped out another tweet, pocketed the phone again, and snapped their fingers for a another shot.

Brad refreshed his timeline and barked out another laugh. “There we go. That’ll do, pig.”

*

The alcohol was fun but it did nothing to keep Jason from obsessively refreshing their mentions; they’d never seen so many .gifs of Trixie fucking Mattel in their life, but that was kind’ve funny, at least. If anything, this little stunt would at least get the fans going, which Jason lived for.

A reply from @PearletsButtPads with a link to some bootleg YouTube video caught their eye: “Even after she said Ginger deserved your crown? Girl I guess…”

Mute. Blockéd. Jason thought for a moment. No, shit. Then they’ll know. Unblocked. Cunt.

The room was spinning and their ego was stinging like a motherfucker. Their phone whistled with a new message. Jason opened it so fast they nearly tossed it across the floor. It was a text from Trixie:

“Thanks for the fucking literal hundreds of tweets clogging my shit. So cool.”

Jason rolled their eyes and sent Firkus back a series of the unflattering Trixie screencaps riddling their mentions in wordless reply.

Another message. Not Trixie. Jason grinned.

Katya had replied with .gif of a winking lesbian.

Well, Jason thought. That’ll have to do.

*

A few days later, Jason was in Mexico City. The last BOTS stop of the year, and maybe ever for some, if Brian’s mumbling about retiring and leaving the RuGirl life behind held any water. Jason doubted any of that was imminent; Katya was still very much in demand. But the thought still made them a little sad. But only a little.

They walked into the dressing room, and Brian was at his mirror, starting his face. He spotted Jason’s reflection and grinned.

They hugged. “No hat today?”

“No hat today,” Jason replied, taking a step back to take in Brian’s hard new physique. “Jesus Christ, Hollywood Hogan.”

Brian cackled, horrified. “Hogan? Don’t start, you fuckin’ dickpig.”

Jason pulled out his chair, still staring at Brian. What the fuck. “It’s really just the hair,” they said, igniting a delightful series of curses from the older Queen.

 *

The show was a blast, as usual. A few of the girls, including Katya, were staying over a day to explore the city, so they made tentative plans to hit up a dispensary Katya had been recommended and have a little fun.

Violet was excited, wondering if they should use to opportunity to embarrass Katya in front of the other girls by bringing up the Ginger bullshit when he was in the midst of an edible-induced stupor. And they would have, but Katya ran out of the room at just the right time to diarrhea shit herself.

Violet figured they’d put a pin in it. Whatever. They’re having fun, for once - why fuck that up just yet?

An unpleasant shiver settled in Jason’s gut.

*

Mexico was a wash. Violet and Katya kissed and hugged and said their goodbyes, made empty promises to get together sometime, and Brian and Jason boarded their flights.

Jason didn’t bother mentioning that they had business in L.A. in the coming weeks. They assumed Katya would be on the road, and if not… well. It was probably for the best not to get their hopes up.

Jason made their way down the empty hall and stopped in front of one of the dressing rooms, debating a mirror selfie. They were excited and they wouldn’t be able to say a word about any of this for probably months…

Jason glanced around for any stray interns, and finding the coast clear, slipped into the room, where they found a half-naked Katya Zamolodchikova. Well, Brian. It looked like Jason had just missed Katya.

They stared at each other for a moment.

“What the fuck?” The words barely left Brian’s mouth. Jason collapsed against the door, wheezing. What the fuck.

Jesus, Jason thought, reeling themself back to Earth. They must keep this bitch on a tight leash.

They decided to actually use this as their opening line, to which Brian cackled and said, “Are you stalking me?”

“You fucking wish, bitch.”

“I do,” Brian nodded frantically, “I’m very lonely.”

Jason explained that they were just passing through, having worked out some kinks regarding a pilot they were hoping to shoot in the new year, and Brian had just wrapped some…thing he wasn’t really willing to discuss in much detail.

“Finally made that porn you’re always talking about?” Jason said.

“Girl please. You know I’d need you as a technical consultant,” Brian winked, shrugging on his coat. “But you are gonna love it.”

Jason couldn’t help themself: “I don’t really ‘do’ Youtube shows, Katya.”

Brian stared at Jason and shook his head, irritated. “Oh,” he said. “I miss you. I miss you all the time, you skunky cunt.”

Jason laughed and pulled him into a hug. Before they separated, Jason said: “wish I could say the same, but I’m a little sick of hearing about you saying I stole Ginger’s crown or whatever.”

Brian stiffened. He pulled back, looking up at Jason. “I never said that,” he said.

Jason pursed their lips. They were used to being the subject of shit talking, used to the disrespect and jealousy, but this was… a sore spot. More so than they’d realized before they’d actually said it. Of all the queens, they didn’t think Katya would still be flapping her big fucking mouth like that. It’s not personal, it’s drag, blah blah blah, but Jason just thought… Well, whatever.

They’d gotten so close over the years, working, touring. Hell, there were a couple times…Paris, Vancouver…where some of that playful rubbing and groping between Katya and Violet, and Brian and Jason - and whoever they were in between - got a little intense.

But they kept cool. They kept it professional. It was a lot less risky to just slink back to the hotel room and bust a quick nut, or fuck off with road trade… Why mess things up with a colleague - a sister - when you have so many more practical options?

I guess we won’t have to worry about that anymore, Jason thought.

“Once a hot mess…” They muttered.

“Jason.” Brian grabbed their hand. Jason looked at their joined hands for a moment, met Brian’s eyes and shook their head. “Violet,” he amended, squeezing the pale appendage. Jason’s posture relaxed and Brian took the cue to lead this conversation to the the couch. Jason followed, begrudgingly, letting Brian keep his hand as they sat next to each other.

“Whatever I said,” Brian held Jason’s captured hand between both of his, “I didn’t mean it. Not like that.”

“Of course you did, Yekaterina.” Jason extracted themself and drew their hands to their sides, a weird pleasure crawling up their spine at the dejection painting Brian’s features. “You’re entitled to your wrong opinions like everyone else.”

Brian pulled a distressed face that yanked Jason back to their long days in the workroom years ago.

At least she’s figured what to do with that hair, Jason thought. What’s left of it.

“Violeeeeet…” Brian clawed at his face and slid forward until he was face-down on Jason’s thigh, where he mumbled, “you’re making me feel like such a cunt. Not the good kind. Come on…”

Violet stared at the morose blond head bowed before them. After a moment of listening to Brian’s fake sobs, they sighed loudly and placed their hand on the back of his head.

“Katya,” Jason drawled. They felt the muscles work in the smaller man’s face as his mouth quirked up in a mischievous grin. “I forgive you.”

Jason watched Brian’s shoulders relax and curled their fingers tightly into his hair.

“Don’t be such a bitch, bitch,” Jason said. “You’re not good at it.”

This earned a shiver and a giggle from the other girl. Jason loosened their grip, so Brian reached out to grasp the young Queen’s wrist, lifted it away from his head, and slowly rose to face those pursed lips with an amused grin. He brought Jason’s knuckles to his lips.

“Yes, your majesty,” he said.

Jason ignored their twitching cock and rolled their eyes. “That might’ve actually been sexy if you had fucking eyebrows, bitch.”

Brian whipped his head to the side with a laugh, as if he’d been stricken. He tightened his grip on Jason, pressing a series of rapid kisses up and down their long arm, finally earning a genuine laugh from the young Queen.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Brian finally released the arm, letting it rest against the cushion. He didn’t leave it alone long, though, quickly intertwining his fingers with Jason’s, staring down at their joined hands.

“You’re so fucking stupid.” Jason watched him, reflecting on how, once again, this manic clown had completely obliterated any lingering resentment they had been holding on to. “You’re an idiot.”

Katya was good at that. Brian was really good at that.

Brian disengaged their conjoined hands to hold two fingers in place of his absent eyebrows and asked, “Are you hard right now?”

Jason stared at him.

“A little.”

Brian cackled.

“You fucking whore! I knew it.”

“What can I say,” Jason drawled. “Groveling just does it for me.”

“I have a boner too! See? I can admit that. Totally natural and not awkward at all. Just two colleagues with erections being emotionally vulnerable…”

“Just girly things.”

They laughed at how stupid this was. It got a little quiet until Brian finally said something.

“Well, Miss Chachki… Lady to lady…”

Jason braced for the incoming joke, but felt their eyebrows climb up instinctively. Something in Brian’s tone, his posture…

“…if you ever want to do something about that,” his green eyes slid to Jason’s crotch before meeting their eyes, and then in his fucking valley girl voice said, “I’m your girl.”

Tongue. Plop.

Jason felt their mouth hang open as they really and truly considered the creature before them. Katya. No; Fucking Brian fucking McCook.

They were just staring at each other now, Brian only smiling slightly.

Jason shook their head and thought about Paris, about Vancouver. Hell, fucking L.A. Fucking L.A. always got weird.

And then there was motherfucking Manchester.

Jason refocused on the carefully styled haircut they had just moments ago ruined, leaving Brian with his natural Jesse Pinkman-at-age-45 look.

They weren’t even mad anymore. But it might make them feel a little better to claw at that hair again.

“I’m into daddies, Katya,” Jason said, carefully. “Not creepy crossdressing uncles.” Brian’s smile melted into a grimace.

“You rotted, gutted… Look. Violet? I would be more than happy to spank you, if that’s what you want. Not even as a sex thing. As your friend and colleague, I will bend you over my knee right now.”

Well.

As his words pinged around Jason’s buzzing brain like a pinball, they thought: the only thing more insane than fooling around with Katya in this deserted dressing room would be running back to their hotel, again, to strip their cock raw, again, to fantasies of getting fucked by motherfucking… Brian.

Jason started laughing. Brian’s face fell. His ears turned pink as Jason’s shoulders shook. He looked like he was trying to force a laugh, but couldn’t quite conjure it up - and Jason felt a little bad about this, but they just could not stop.

“I’m sorry,” Brian mumbled. “That was a little-”

“You dumb whore,” Jason cut in, grabbing Brian by the collar of his coat and yanking him into a kiss.

After a minute or two of fevered, sloppy, I-can’t-believe-this-is-real-and-not-a-bit-for-once making out, Brian’s eyes shot open with a “wait,” as he pulled away from the flushed Jason Dardo straddling his lap and fumbling with his fly. “You know I really do have herpes, right? It’s not gonna be a problem, I just…you know…”

Jason let out an annoyed grunt. “You’re not special, Katya.”

Brian laughed and buried his face into Jason’s chest. “I’m just-”

“If you don’t have herpes,” Jason said, finally slipping their hand around Brian’s cock, “you’re not. Doing. Drag.”

*

Now, Jason hadn’t really been expecting more than some intense making out and maybe a dry hand job. That’s how these spur-of-the-moment hook-ups usually went; after weeks or even years of tension, you both remember what the other one looks like under all the drag and something brief and sexy happens. But just for a moment.

This moment kept stretching on and on and on and neither Jason nor Brian or Katya and Violet made any indication that it needed to stop there; and then again, they were both Queens notorious for pushing it.

So when things progressed and Brian finally said to Jason, “I want to fuck you until shit comes out of your ears,” Jason grabbed a fistful of Brian’s hair, yanked his head back, looked him in the eye and said, “then fuck me.”

“Okay,” Brian breathed, his grin creeping back, “but not here.”

*

They stumbled into the building across the street, Jason staring at the glowing vending machine - the only source of light in the dark…studio? It was hard to tell - as Brian fumbled around looking for a light.

“What is this place?” Jason asked, picking up a disturbing baby-face mask. Brian took the mask and placed it ever so gently back up on the shelf it occupied, along with various other props and knickknacks.

“Willam’s,” Brian said, leading Jason over to a very broken-in looking couch. “I’ve been shooting some stuff here and, uh. I think he’d be fine with this.”

“Couldn’t just spring for an Uber, bitch?”

“It’s rush hour and if I don’t fuck you in the next two minutes I am literally going to combust and burn this entire city to the ground,” Brian said, pulling Jason into a rough kiss. And yeah, he tasted like a cigarette butt soaked in black coffee, but when he tried to pull away, Jason pulled him back in again.

“I’m assuming you know where he keeps his lube and shit?” Brian nodded. Jason pulled him in close, fastening their teeth to his earlobe. “Then what the fuck are you waiting for?”

*

At some point they wound up against the vending machine, but only for a moment as Jason suspected Brian was trying to see if they could knock anything loose; and if that wasn’t enough, once they finally made it back to the couch, Brian almost ruined everything by slamming himself into Jason and grunting, “it’s not that, fuck, you fucking bitch - I don’t think you deserved -” he bit into Jason’s shoulder as Jason murmured, “what? Oh fuck,”- “you deserved it, I was just- Jesus Christ- commenting on society’s tendency to-”

Jason grabbed him by the ears so that they were eye-to-eye and snarled: “Bitch if you don’t shut the fuck up and make me come, I am never going to fucking speak to you again.”

Brian answered with bruising thrusts, wrapping his free hand around Jason’s slender throat as the young Queen’s claws found their way, once again, to the back of Brian’s tender head.

[shenanigumi]

Astrology: Kazama Chikage

As before – Everything in brackets is canonically based (in part using these few resources), so feel free not to believe my headcanons if you’re so inclined, but it’s harder to argue with the powers that be. This one admittedly has less basis in fact than some previous installments, but all the same—enjoy!

KAZAMA CHIKAGE, b. 20-21 November [1838]

[Dog]

Honest, intelligent, straightforward; has a deep sense of loyalty and a passion for justice

Charismatic, attractive, exudes sex appeal

Can be counted on to do their share; protects others’ interests more avidly than their own

Anger like a bright flash; comes without warning and may die just as quickly, but always justifiable, without malice or rancor

Clear-eyed observer aiming to guard the interests of the general public

Very serious about self-imposed responsibilities; when they take up a cause they believe is right, they will emerge victorious

Prefers plain talk, and listens objectively; can see through others’ motives, so talking around them irks them

Cynical, born with defense shields up; one must gain their confidence gradually

Inborn need to divide people into fixed categories; no gray areas

Has to know how to classify others before interacting with them; decision to trust or not trust is final

Works hard when necessity or desire demands it; otherwise, can be lazy

Tolerant and forgiving of friends, but critical and emotionally cold to enemies

Astute, intelligent, practical, fearless, sharp-tongued, ultra-realistic, outspoken

Unemotional, altruistic, good but sometimes reluctant leader, prone to erratic and cantankerous behavior; introverted at heart, hates having to function in a sociopolitical arena

In many cases, born into a good family

Pessimistic; expects trouble lurking around every corner

Gives bad news with the good in a matter-of-fact way; hedging and delaying the inevitable is against their nature, as they are a definite person and must give a definite answer

Can be obstinate and unbending when in the right; unprejudiced and hard to influence once they make up their mind

“Cut[s] the opposition’s arguments to ribbons with his flawless logic and acid wit”; bad temper and hot criticism can do a lot of damage

Pugnacious and quarrelsome, but fights openly and does not use underhanded tactics

Prepared to serve others if duty demands it, but prefers being left alone to do as they please

Not renowned for patience; tends to snap at others when irked

Tough; can endure a good deal of stress

Paradoxically, happiness may come from worrying over and protecting those they care about

Autumn [Earth Dog]

Takes duties seriously; dependable, faithful, expects others to be the same way

Can be tenacious and hostile when challenged; watchful, protective, “do[es] not tolerate even the slightest invasion into their rights or territory”

Defensive nature heightened by unhappy experiences in life; never forgets injuries

Selfless and attentive to loved ones and family; able to bond closely with those they trust and rely upon

Quiet, secretive, impartial dispenser of justice; more practical, less sentimental

Efficient and constructive thinker; moves slowly and to good purpose

Faithful to beliefs, but will bow to majority rule

Vigilant, careful, fixed scale of values from which they seldom deviate

Due to high moral standards, tends to overperform and may demand excessive dedication and loyalty from others

Good fighter and survivor; never totally crushed in defeat

Values individualism and self-respect; speaks straight from the heart

Snake Ascendant

Quiet, guards secrets well; rarely seeks or takes advice

Competent, mentally superior, intellectual, philosophical

Snake bends Dog’s sense of justice; not averse to taking shortcuts to achieve goals

Others may find their air of mystery attractive or sexually appealing

Fierce, vindictive, unforgiving when angry; “others would be unwise to tangle with [them], especially where [their] ambitions are concerned”

Scorpio Dog

Powerful, dedicated, energetic; displays Dog’s righteous spirit and Pluto’s deep insight

Likes to honor promises; passion and loyalty never waver

Approaches problems with single-mindedness, not amenable to compromise

Pugnacious, unsparing with words; fierce and unyielding even in the face of defeat

Believes in absolute commitment; “will serve God or the Devil with equal fervor”, but in the end, is true only to self

Scorpio

Passionately emotional, subtle, persistent, intense, obstinate, unyielding

Provokes anger due to secretiveness and jealousy; sharp, stinging temper can enrage others to the point of violence

Magnetic, capable of exerting tremendous force; may appear impassive or unapproachable, but “turbulent passions are always roiling underneath, invisible on the surface”

Without an avenue of expression, feelings turn inward and become imprisoned or even destructive; can be brooding, jealous, resentful, even vengeful, but dedication is unswerving once emotions are engaged

Possessed of legendary energy, drive, endurance; seeks to give life a meaningful pattern and find a deeper purpose

Has a philosophical turn of mind, may become interested in the occult; sixth sense enables them to intuit things before they happen

Mental complexity makes it difficult for them to skim the surface; must uncover what lies beneath

Relationships are unusually complicated; can be simultaneously generous and affectionate, yet violent and unpredictable

Even “in [their] sunniest moods, there is always a hint of an imminent change in the weather”

Deeply loyal to friends, but also intense and possessive; emotional moderation and restraint are difficult

Never forgets a kindness and tries to repay it handsomely

Also never forgets an injury, but prefers getting vengeance to getting even; makes a dangerous enemy, subtle and deadly

Fiercely competitive, though often conceals this; moves in quickly for the kill once a weakness is spotted

Adaptable; quickly able to channel energy into new paths, turning disaster into success

Practical, shrewd, believes in immediate and tangible goals; single-minded concentration is formidable

Subject to obsessive drives, which can be resistant to reason; dominates and controls anyone who lets them

Suspicious, wary, reluctant to entrust their heart to anyone, but loves deeply once they do

Third-Decanate Scorpio

Alluring personality; magnetic social touch

Tends to choose work that projects them into the public eye

“Fate seems to thrust [them] into situations or relationships that [they] do not pick, but which often are the most successful for [them]”

Strong sense of ethics; injustice brings out their fighting spirit

Can be moody, especially when others’ actions discourage them

Has deep emotions which they have difficulty sharing; once they reveal themselves, they are direct and honest and do not evade the truth

Sagittarius-Cusp Scorpio

Sensitive, intuitive, has lots of nervous energy

Mental activity stimulates them; never reluctant to share an opinion

Those they love are aware of their loyalty and warm feelings; others usually see them as someone who judges dispassionately

Sentimental, but able to stand back and be objective if it is in their best interests

Capricorn Moon

Lends force, dynamism, persistence, ambition, an instinct for excellence

More determined, responsible, disciplined, patient, committed; also more rigid, pessimistic, opinionated, materialistic, over-exacting

Must overcome complexities and obstacles in their own nature to find happiness

Alert mind; organized, ambitious, prodigious worker

Eager to learn, but dislikes vague theory; wants to put knowledge to use

Self-sufficient, solitary; “haunted by a feeling of responsibility, of a task [they] must fulfill”

Single-mindedness can become obsession; “[they] pin their hopes on one idea, turn all [their] ideas in one direction”

Secretly suffers from loneliness; often concealed with a dry sense of humor

Finds it difficult to reveal deepest feelings; may be perceived as cold and calculating

Authority and power may be compensation for difficulty in emotional areas

Cautious, reserved, takes time to commit to romantic relationships; once involved, love is durable, faithful, even lifelong

When secure in a relationship, giving and generous to the point of selflessness

Capricorn Rising (see also: Saito Hajime)

Serious mind; neither melancholy nor frivolous

Cautious, reluctant to commit until the full situation is understood

Quiet and reserved around strangers; warmer once they open up

Reliable, dependable, stable, and has self-esteem

Has great willpower, determination, diligence in pursuit of goals; important that life feels meaningful

Even after achieving goals, may sense that something is still missing and be dissatisfied

Active mind, quick intelligence, ability to concentrate; talent for information-gathering, seeing and using flaws at a glance, planning ahead

Dislikes being caught unprepared; fusses over details to stay in control

Feels powerfully, but may find it difficult to show those feelings; may be torn by hidden jealousy, resentment, and grudges

Achievements are mainly due to their own effort

Saturn bestows discipline, ambition, patience, determination, good endurance; also brings stubbornness, hardship, melancholy, aloofness, pessimism, selfishness

*All excerpted information either quoted or paraphrased from the sixth edition of “The Handbook of Chinese Horoscopes” (since the Japanese borrowed their zodiac) by Theodora Lau, and “The Only Astrology Book You’ll Ever Need” by Joanne Martine Woolfolk.*