#got i really cannot coordinate who do i draw at ALL huh?

[katyspersonal]

*boots down door*

You mention Bloodborr OC's

GIMME ALL THE BACKGROUND!!!!

Allllllright, I think I will tell you about my favorite!

Strangely enough, I did only draw her ONE whole time so far, back in, what?.. June 2022? And it is only a headshot! But I always imagine her wearing cyan/indigo/grey clothes, fashioned after Old Hunters' aesthetic, and... a particular iron helmet with only one eye hole, yes. She is an OC based entirely on how you choose to read this line:

She appeared in my head based off a few factors; that we can clearly see Valtr being summoned with both eyes visible (not a single effort to obscure the second eye, unlike with Djura), we know that Impurity rune that LETS you see Vermin was discovered 'within a forbidden Beast Eater' (so, Valtr himself), we know that Valtr curses not only beasts but the 'freakish slugs and mad doctors', and we know that Clocktower Dial has a rune similar to Impurity but not exactly it:

(Thank you @val-of-the-north for handy refs ( x ))

That gave me a thought, aboutl Valtr being taken right into Research Hall labs upon his (rather dramatic) arrival in Yharnam; as someone who ate a beast, he was expected to be very much contaminated, and, well... Research Hall offered the so-called voluntary-obligatory treatment for such people. Either get killed before you became a beast, or be "treated" to not become a beast :') And this is where he met an Old Hunter Geranea, that was likewise dragged into research - and already missing one eye, since all patients get one eye removed to become an Eye Pendant + for easier access to their brain.

I always presumed runes system was a deciphering system more than it was a set number of the runes, since Ludwig and Adeline were able to envision their own runes without Caryll! So, Impurity rune is special - it is a concept. Every person has their own alternative of Impurity rune, as it appeals to the individual concept of what IS evil. Geranea quickly caught up that there was something abnormally filthy in Valtr and insisted that he should not have gotten 'water' treatment under any circumstances lest he'd erupt under it flourishing and die right after. People that yearn to exterminate evil see 'human dregs' as pests, but people who yearn to treat it peacefully see evil as flowers. Geranea was able to see the flowers akin tomb mold that you find across dungeons and Hunter's Nightmare sprouting from people before they died, as indication of how 'dirty' their blood was, and... let's say, Valtr had an extraordinary amount of them because of what happened to him.

She helped him to envision his own idea of evil as someone familiar with Caryll's runes language, deciphering the weird sounds his body was emitting, and helped him to escape by giving him her eye pendant to use as a bait on the string for a giant crow that was frequenting Research Hall's balcony - think of holding a carrot on the string before a donkey! As for her own fate? Well, she was able to see through utter corruption of both 'Sea' and 'Stars', rejecting both and becoming one of the few if not the only one patient that banished the Arcane from her body with raw hatred and willpower alone.

She would manage to escape the Research Hall and cover her identity in new costume and with the new weapon, to not get caught by the Assassins. And... of course, she'd get the bucket helm, to obscure her face! She was to contact Valtr later under new identity, but their friendship was just not meant to last; they had drastically different ideas on how to treat human dregs and fell apart in a very nasty conflict over it, parting their ways.

Ever since then, Geranea was a strange cross between a Hunter and a Blood Minister (don't confuse with Blood Saint!). She would find people afflicted with human dregs through seeing whether they displayed 'flowers' sprouting from them. Her having banished the Arcane influence from her very body and soul via spite alone granted her blood a special immunity against both Beast and Kin afflictions, so her treatment? It included taking the blood from a person, transfusing it into her own body, putting up the mental fight against this person's darkest impulses (or corruption of Great Ones), and, after immunity has been worked up, she'd give the 'healed' blood back to this person. Just... Giving them free antibodies against their OWN afflictions that she'd work on her own. Doesn't it sound like too good to be true?

Well, that it was. Not only effect of such immunity still COULD virtually wear down, but also poor Geranea would let evil, insanity and pain of people through herself over and over. And over and over and over and over and over... In the end, it cracked her up, and she grew to be corrupted and no longer able to process all this - becoming evil and twisted herself. Her last sane thought however? That was Valtr.

She crawled back to him, being terribly mutated and having twisted thoughts, reflecting empathy to all afflicted people she healed from their darkest impulses. Their last meeting in long time was essentially her telling him that he was right and begging to be killed, that he did. He knew what exactly ruined her, and his conclusion was: "The filth of this world doesn't deserve compassion of a kind soul".

He took her helmet though, as a further reminder to himself to always stay relentless before human dregs extermination, and never had a heart to alter it even one bit, despite having both eyes. However, he later met Yamamura, who reminded him of her with his tender, sensitive heart, and he was not to make the same mistake twice; so he was to send Yamamura away as a "spy" for Healing Church in hopes he'd find new friends there and forget the mission. Granted, Yamamura appeared to be a very stubborn and prideful man, so the mission still inflicted insanity on him - especially since he saw it through Valtr's rune, not his own.

So yeah, that's for the story..; In general, Geranea was a kind person willing to tolerate a bit too much and to sacrifice too much, that is a stark contrast to her resting bitch face and kind of a rude demeanour. I can't even call her a jerk with a heart of gold, she is just a good person that might appear slightly too forceful with wishing to help.

And! Flowers thing comes from my idea that many patients had lumenweed subtly growing on them during treatment! Here are Adeline's and Rom's for example:

Geranea's faded and died upon her rejecting the 'cosmos' with both her body and her soul, but she never got around removing them as they became too entwined with her hair. But I like to think that when she finally broke mentally, those flowers in her hair were glowing and flourishing again, as if to seek for salvation.

...Aaaaaanyway, I can't believe I never really drew her that much ;-; That face ref is like... this is IT. Boy, I gotta fix myself.

[lynkolnevans]

New idea:

Saiki Kusuo is legally blind according to the government because his x-ray vision was so powerful during his eye exams, he couldn't see the eyesight test poster without blinking a lot. You could also combine this with many other power influenced issues (trouble hearing = so many voices in his head makes it hard to distinguish people talking, coordination issues = trouble controlling super strength, etc depending on what you wish to explore) Kusuo can apply for a service dog.

Obviously he doesn't, cause taking care of a dog whose thoughts he could hear 24/7, would be headache inducing. Especially since all he would hear is, “I help! Yes, do good help owner! Love you! Love you!”. So, he doesn’t, until Kurumi notices a sudden plunge in his mood, around the time Kusuo first starts resetting time to avoid the world’s destruction via volcano.

This, combined with Kuniharu’s whining about getting a pet dog to order around, Kurumi worried about her son’s health (and subsequently accidentally guilt-tripping him), the Saikis get a service dog!

Now this could be the end of it, as I think this idea can be cute as hell, especially as Kusuo really needs some kind of helping hand for all the shit he goes through. Instead, I got my grubby little hands all over this idea and twisted it into a self-insert prompt. If you want to hear rambling about that, then below the cut is for you. Otherwise, I hope this idea was entertaining to read and inspired you guys to create something cool!

So basically this whole idea started when re-watching Saiki K, as well as @oatmealcrisp-freak ‘s posts about Oda Cinnamon Nobunaga. I noticed some scenes in Saiki K where, under all the comedy, it creates some interesting parallels to real life troubles people with disabilities or medical problems have. This combined with @oatmealcrisp-freak ‘s posts and my own self-indulgent mind created a new idea. Hopefully, it hasn’t been done before.

We have a Self-Insert in the form of a German Shepherd, who gets reincarnated as a service dog and falls into the hands of the Saiki Family. Essentially it draws the same ideas in my super old post about my initial SI for Saiki K, mainly focusing on the SI being the antithesis to Kusuo’s powers and anime logic.

Thus, we begin the creation of the setting: Kusuo’s family pressure him to get a service dog, each parent having their own reasons. We get some reluctance and a “yare yare” or two, until Kusuo meets said SI. Huh, Kusuo cannot read the dog’s mind, what is it, a Nendo? Essentially, since Kusuo is being forced to get a service dog, he chooses to get the one whose mind he can’t read. This way it’s one less annoying mind to hear and a way to figure out why this one dog (a dog that is obviously very smart, unlike Nendo) does not have any thoughts to read.

We got a human who is now a dog with knowledge of Saiki K, who is at bare minimum also immune to telepathy. We also got a kid with enormous power just trying to live a normal life, even though his powers cause equal ‘benefit’ and stress.

I’ve already got some cool ass plot twists in mind.

[alkalinefrog]

hey, so, I had an art related question... if all of this is too much, feel free to ignore it.

the backstory is that I've had the same laptop since early high school but recently I had a birthday (I'm 28 now). my parents got me an HP laptop, and my friend got me a tablet, which she bought off of an online friend for $30. the problem is that I haven't had new technology like... ever? none that was actually mine anyway, and certainly nothing that could handle me using it for art.

and this is especially a problem when it comes to the tablet. my friend helped me get firealpaca onto the laptop, and get the tablet set up with the right drivers, aaaaand... I cannot make one line that looks good using it. I've been using pen and paper for so long and I have a really light touch, and it feels like I have to jam the pen down to get it to register, at which point I might as well have not set the pen sensitivity to anything at all because the thickest line is the only kind I can make?? any lighter and it won't show up on the screen at all. like I can ctrl+z and it doesn't even go back a step, the line didn't get drawn. there's like a 20% chance that any line I try to put down won't actually register. and tbh this isn't really what I had wanted... it's a huion tablet, which is the brand I wanted, but I was gonna buy myself one where you can see what you're drawing on the screen of the tablet itself. not just due to coordination issues, I think I could get used to that part, but because I feel like I wouldn't be having this specific problem with getting things to register. every single line I make looks like crap with this tablet, it makes me feel like I might as well be drawing with my feet, and I've been fidgeting with settings, and it doesn't seem like anything helps. I also still don't have a mouse for the laptop yet, so I can't click and drag anything very well because it has a trackpad, so messing with sliders is already aggravating.

I feel so lost and overwhelmed, and like if I buy anything else, I'm just going to end up with more unusable stuff because *I'm* probably the problem. I just don't know anything, and trying is mentally fatiguing me so quickly... my brain knows what I want my art to look like, and my hands can do it with a real pen. I just have absolutely no clue how to make this machine produce anything.

so I guess my questions are stuff like, what equipment do you use? are there tablets that will register a light touch or am I really going to have to be this heavy handed in order to work with one? what resolution/canvas size do you usually work on? any recommendations for what program to use?

overall, I'd really like to get myself something that feels more intuitive than the tablet... honestly, I was finding some success drawing with just my finger on the touch screen of my phone at one point. there were still a lot of problems with that, but the nail in the coffin was that my phone's memory space filled up and I had to get rid of the drawing app to make it functional again (it's an iphone, which is why). maybe I should just get an ipad or something...? though, one more thing on the mountain of potential options is the last thing my crumbling ADHD brain needs. I've been taking a break from art in general because I've still maintained my 40-hours-a-week work schedule through the whole pandemic... I do 10 hour shifts and work overnight, so I technically have free time since I only work 4 days a week, but the type of work I do leaves me with no energy at all. so I've been in an art slump and I've been wanting to get out of it, but this is just making art feel impossible, even though the whole reason why I've always wished I could draw digitally is so that I can color digitally. I had been drawing things in pen and scanning them to color in photoshop, but cleanup takes so long that I literally can't produce finished work anymore. I'm out of options that aren't prohibitively labor intensive and frustrating.

this was probably way too much information, but if you have any advice I'd be really grateful.

Huh, well first off HAPPY BIRTHDAY DUDE!! Congrats on the sweet new tech (even if it's been a bit frustrating) and well-deserved celebration!

From the sounds of it I think the main issue is probably your tablet (this is pure speculation on my end though, so you know, grain of salt and all). You're right in that you shouldn't have to fight against your equipment. I have a really light touch too and I've never had the same issue. I personally don't have any experience with huion tablets, but if you're having trouble getting your lines to register then it might have been worn down by the previous user. It's not so much about buying a monitor (the screen one) vs. tablet so much as getting working equipment.

An iPad is a great alternative!! I've played around with the apple pencil and procreate and it's a super intuitive program with (obviously) super easy set up! You get the drawing on the screen AND really nice pen pressure. I'm really happy seeing it opening up new doors for more people to get into digital art!

In terms of your current laptop/tablet situation:

My set up rn is pretty pricey ngl; I have a PC desktop computer with a 16 inch Wacom Cintiq. Getting started in digital art doesn't mean you have to drop a bag on a ton of equipment right from the get go though! If you're looking for a safe small investment, I'd recommend getting a Wacom Bamboo pen tablet!

This lil' baby right here is what I started with!! I think cost-wise it floats around 70ish bucks, but that's exponentially more affordable than buying a huge monitor. One of my friends who's also a pro artist uses a similar small tablet because it works great! That's an alternative that might be worth looking into.

You can also get free trials on other drawing programs (clip studio paint is a great one!) To test and see if it's a software issue with firealpaca.

You could also try checking online forums to see if anyone else is running into similar issues, or watch some YouTube videos of people reviewing different tablets. I know this might be even more overwhelming, so I'd try and narrow the scope to focus on one thing at a time.

My best advice right now would actually be to get a mouse, or any other accessories you need. I've also been in your shoes where I was completely overwhelmed, and I can say that checking off all the small easy things makes a HUGE difference! It makes you feel more in control of the situation, and even if you're still having trouble with digital art you can at least get more comfortable using your laptop in the mean time.

You got this dude!! I believe in you!!

EDIT:

Thanks @wooliebirds!

[voltrontranscript]

VLD S8E5: The Grudge

Season 8 Episode 5: The Grudge

Transcript by @dragonofyang

Summary: The Paladins and the crew of the Atlas arrange to rendezvous to discuss how the Altean robeasts are able to wormhole and the destruction of Olkarion. Acxa and the Atlas crew are still getting used to one another.

[Google Doc]

Iverson: Who’s a good girl? You are. I used to have a dog like this years ago. Old Sally would follow me just about everywhere I went. I couldn’t turn around without her being there, smiling her big, drooly smile, which was actually a problem sometimes. I once tripped over her, slipped on her drool, and went shoulder-first into the refrigerator. Yeah, and that’s where this clicking came from.

Veronica: Is that why you were struggling with the pull-ups, sir?

Iverson: No, that’s because I’m old and overweight. And watch your insubordination.

Veronica: Yes, sir!

Curtis: Was the dog alright?

Iverson: She was fine, thank goodness. Yeah, that dog meant the world to me.

Veronica: I know how you feel. My brothers and sisters adopted every stray animal they could find. There was this one cat, “Flash” we called him. He hated everybody except me. Smart cat.

Curtis: What about you, Acxa? Did you have pets where you’re from?

Acxa: I never had a creature companion, but one of my partners, Narti, was bonded to an immortal cat named Kova. That cat gave her the ability to experience the world.

Curtis: Oh. That’s great.

Acxa: Until Lotor killed Narti and we had to abandon the animal on our destroyed ship so we could escape without being tracked.

Shiro, on PA: Crew, report to the bridge immediately.

[Cut to Iverson, Coran, Curtis, and Veronica entering the bridge.]

Shiro: I’ve got an incoming transmission from the paladins. Go ahead, Allura.

Allura: Atlas, we’ve managed to track down an Altean robeast.

Coran: You found one!

Shiro: Where is it? Did you engage the creature?

Allura: Unfortunately, we were too late. It attacked the Olkari and stole the remains of the weaponized cube.

Coran: Is Olkarion okay?

Keith: No. Olkarion is gone.

Coran: No.

Allura: The loss of Olkarion is devastating to us all, but we were able to acquire some vital information.

Keith: We learned from Olkarion that the robeasts have been traveling via wormhole, which leave behind unique energy signatures. Pidge created a program that can identify those signatures and pinpoint their exact locations.

Allura: We’re sending over the readings from Pidge’s program now.

Coran: Are you telling us these are all robeasts?

Pidge: We’re not positive, but they could be.

Allura: There’s more. After studying the map, we noticed the signatures all radiate from a single epicenter: Oriande.

Coran: Wait, so Honerva could be on Oriande? But I thought only worthy Alteans could get there. Could she have the Mark of the Chosen?

Keith: There’s a lot we don’t know. We need to rendezvous to come up with a plan.

Coran: The Baltuf Nebula would make a good rendezvous point for both of us.

Keith: Send us the coordinates, Coran. See you soon.

[Scene transition to the mess hall.]

Veronica: Acxa! Come join us. So, how did you meet the paladins?

Acxa: I met Keith when I was stuck in the third stomach of a Weblum. He saved my life.

Rizavi: What were you doing in a… stomach?

Acxa: Gathering scaultrite to help enable Lotor to conquer the universe.

Rizavi: I once got stuck in a ball pit when I was a kid.

Veronica: Well, what do you think of the crew? It must be a pretty different dynamic being that we don’t try to kill each other, huh?

Acxa: I suppose, but the Galra had an expression: “Combat is the searing light that burns away imperfections.”

Ina: It would appear the mood at this table has become rather awkward. Most likely due to your Galra lineage. Yep. Definitely… awkward.

[Cut to Shiro in the bridge.]

Keith: Atlas, we had some technical difficulties. We’ll be delayed.

Shiro: Copy that. How long?

Keith: We’re still assessing that. Might be a few hours. We’ll keep you updated.

Shiro: Roger that.

[Scene change to the lions approaching a black and red planet.]

Pidge: Coming up on rendezvous point, straight ahead.

Hunk: Anyone else find it odd that Shiro changed the rendezvous point to this place?

Pidge: I’m reading high CO2 and low oxygen in the atmosphere. We’ll need our suits to breathe if we go out there.

Hunk: I’m not going out there.

Keith: They’re here. Atlas, we have a visual. Paladins, get airborne immediately! This is a trap!

Hunk: It’s just like when we were caught by those pirates!

Lance: We’re about to be captured again!

Keith: Emergency ejection!

Allura: Atlas, come in!

Keith: Atlas, we’re under heavy fire!

Pidge: The Atlas isn’t receiving our communications!

Hunk: The beam has the Lions pinned.

Allura: We must have been set up. But by whom?

Pidge: Guys, we have incoming. It’s closing fast.

Hunk: We need to lose it!

Lance: Isn’t there anything we can do to throw it off our scent?

Pidge: Yeah, I’ve got an idea, but I need a minute.

Hunk: I’ll buy you some time.

Pidge: Got it. It shouldn’t be able to detect us anymore.

Lance: Then let’s get out of here!

Hunk: Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

Keith: I need something to draw its attention!

Allura: I’ve got it!

Lance: Huh, good job, Keith. I mean, I was just about to do that, too, but that’s cool.

Pidge: I might be able to hack into it.

[Scene transition to the Paladins gathered around the drone.]

Pidge: This is Galra tech, but it looks like it’s been infused with Olkari elements. The subatomic microfilament is single modulated before it goes through its attenuator. Wow!

Hunk: So, it’s pretty amazing, huh?

Pidge: Yeah.

Hunk: Oh, look at that, it’s single modulated, not double modulated. Huh.

Pidge: Oh, shut up, Hunk! This thing has been locking onto our key encryption protocol that’s built into our suits and bayards.

Keith: How did they get that?

Pidge: I don’t know. Only a genius could do it.

Lance: Can’t we just turn our suits off?

Pidge: Negative. And if the drone had our encryption protocol, then so does that cruiser and anyone on it. If we want to avoid detection, we need to lose our suits and our bayards.

Allura: Remove our armor? In this place?

Hunk: Has anyone read the atmosphere? Oxygen low, CO2 high. We’re not gonna last long, a few hours, tops. We need our suits to survive.

Keith: Yeah, at this point, we’ll survive longer without them.

Lance: So keep our suits on and risk getting blasted, or take our suits off and live long enough before dying from poisoned air.

[Scene transition to the Galra ship hovering over the planet.]

Olkari Technician: Sending you the drone’s last known coordinates now.

Captain: We’re going after them.

Fentress: Why would we do that? It’ll risk the entire operation. We already have the Lions. The paladins have no value.

Captain: They do to me. We’re going in.

Fentress: But we--

Captain: I am the captain, and my authority will not be questioned! You do as I say, or you will spend the rest of your miserable days right here on this planet. Is that understood?

Fentress: Yes, captain.

Captain: Do not let those lions move. No one takes them until the hunt is over.

Olkari Technician: Yes, captain.

Captain: And make sure the Atlas stays put.

Olkari Technician: Copy that.

Shiro: Keith, any updates on your ETA?

Olkari Technician (as Keith): We’re finishing some repairs and about to get underway. We’ll update our ETA when we’re en route.

[Scene change to a shooting range on the IGF-Atlas.]

Acxa: I know you have little trust for me, but your constant presence is tiresome. If you have a problem, let’s end it now.

Veronica: Acxa, it’s not that I don’t trust you.

Acxa: Then what is it?

Veronica: Honestly, I just wanted to get to know you.

Acxa: By sneaking up on me at a firing range?

Veronica: I didn’t sneak up on you.

Acxa: Only because I’m always aware of my surroundings.

Veronica: Look, I’m sorry that I may have been following you around. It just seems like you could use a friend. I know it can be hard to fit in sometimes.

Acxa: I’ve spent my entire life not fitting in. I’m used to it.

Veronica: Right.

Acxa: I was an outcast, born and bred in war. The only way I survived was to become worse than my enemies.

Veronica: I don’t care about what you may have done in your past. I know there’s more to you than that.

Acxa: But some people only see Galra, and I understand why. Sometimes even I question if my people have the ability to change.

Veronica: By choosing to join the coalition, you’re living proof that it is possible. I guess I wanna get to know the Acxa who turned her life around. I have a feeling everyone would like that person.

[Scene change to the volcanic planet.]

Hawkins: They’ve abandoned their suits. Now how are we gonna track them?

Bounty Hunter: We hunt them the old-fashioned way.

[Scene change to the Paladins walking in their undersuits.]

Pidge: Are we sure the Lions are this way?

Hunk: Every direction looks the same.

Pidge: Oh, what I’d give for a GPS right now.

Allura: We cannot allow ourselves to panic. Clearly, we’ve relied on our tech far too much. We need to focus if we’re going to get out of here. Okay, I’m lost.

Hunk: What do we do?

Lance: Our Lions are that way.

Pidge: How do you know? Do you have a scanner you’ve been hiding?

Lance: No, I just looked at the volcano. It was on our left when we came in, so I put it to our right side, and that’s the way out.

Allura: You’re a genius!

Hunk: Oh, snap. Well done, Lance.

Pidge: Uh, well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

Lance: Hey!

Pidge: Ah!

Allura: More drones?

Lance: No, look!

Bounty Hunter: They’ve split up. Stay on their trail. Get them!

[Cut to the Captain and Fentress.]

Hawkins: We’re on the trail of four of the Paladins right now.

Captain: Which four?

Hawkins: The Altean, the big one, the tiny one, and the loud one. They removed their armor to throw us off their scent, but we’ll have them soon.

Captain: Good. The one I really want is this way.

[Scene change to the IGF-Atlas bridge.]

Olkari Technician (as Keith): Apologies for the delay. We experienced a glitch in navigation. I will have to get back to you.

Veronica: Everything okay out there, Keith? Do you need help from the Atlas?

Olkari Technician (as Keith): No assistance required, thank you. Lance will figure it out.

Veronica: Right, Lance, the navigation genius.

Keith: Affirmative.

Veronica: How long have they been delayed?

Iverson: They should have arrived when we did.

Acxa: Something doesn’t seem right.

Curtis: Look at this. It looks like their frequency has been pinging off a decoy. I’m intercepting it now.

Paladins, overlapping: Atlas! This is an emergency! Atlas, come in! Atlas, help! We’re under attack! It was a trap!

Iverson: We need all hands on deck immediately!

[Scene change to Keith jet-packing along the volcanic planet, then the Bounty Hunter and Hawkins as they chase Hunk and Pidge.]

Bounty Hunter: You think I forgot about you, tiny Paladin? I’ll make you pay for what you did to me!

Hunk: We need to hurry. They’re right behind us.

Pidge: The CO2 is poisoning us by the minute, and we don’t know where we’re going. We can’t keep running.

Hunk: Okay. What do we do?

Pidge: We have to make a stand.

Bounty Hunter: Your brother isn’t here to help you this time. And I’ve upgraded since we last met.

Hunk: Woah! Alright, nice work!

Pidge: Found the Lions. This way.

[Scene change to Allura and Lance running through a cave.]

Lance: Okay, if my volcano logic is correct… the Lions should be on the other side of this--[grunts] Allura, get out of here. Go!

Pirate: Looks like she left.

Pirate 2: Don’t worry, we’ll find her for you.

Lance: Thanks.

Allura: The Atlas!

[Cut to the IGF-Atlas bridge.]

Veronica: That’s where the ghost protocol is emanating from.

Shiro: Hit them with the electromagnetic pulse.

[Cut to the Captain and Fentress walking in the forest.]

Fentress: Squadron Z, come in. Squadron Echo, come in. HQ, come in. HQ is not responding and the other pirates are offline. I never signed up for this!

Captain: Well, you’re in it now.

[Scene change to the loading dock on the IGF-Atlas.]

Olkari Technician: Sophisticated hacking and jamming abilities. Impressive. It’s nice to find others on my level.

Shiro: Yeah, it’s terrific. Now where’s your leader?

Olkari Technician: I don’t know. I lost her signal when you attacked. But she’s out there somewhere, hunting down the Paladin you call “Keith.”

Acxa: And who exactly is your leader?

[Scene change as Fentress gets surprised by Keith, who then stumbles into the Captain.]

Keith: Zethrid?

Zethrid: You took Ezor from me!

Keith: I don’t know what you think I did.

Zethrid: You took away everything. And now my face will be the last one you see!

James: Does anyone have the shot?

Rizavi: It’s too risky!

Acxa: Zethrid, don’t do this!

Zethrid: I knew you’d come. Now you will feel what I felt.

Acxa: It’s over. You’re surrounded.

Zethrid: You think this deters me, Acxa? I welcome death now that Ezor’s gone.

Acxa: Zethrid, I know you hurt. Ezor hurt, too. That’s why she left you. She couldn’t keep holding onto the anger.

Zethrid: Stop!

Acxa: Hear my words. Remember how we first met. We were all so full of hate and rage, half-breeds rejected by the Galra. Lotor used us. He led us down a painful path, a never-ending cycle of destruction and loss. Now’s your chance to break that cycle… with me, with Ezor. She wants you to leave the rage behind.

Zethrid: I’m too far gone. She’ll never take me back!

Acxa: Wait! Please! Don’t let the rage control you.

Zethrid: All I have left… is revenge!

[Scene change to a holding cell on the IGF-Atlas, where Zethrid and the Olkari Technician reside.]

Zethrid: You waste your time, Acxa.

Acxa: I know you’re angry, but I refuse to give up on you. And I know someone else feels the same way.

End.

[tundra-tiger]

Hiya!!!!! @raiswanson tagged me in this, 20 questions to ask your OC. So I’m gonna do everyone’s favorite Talis, the dragonborn paladin himself!!! This is Talis as he is as of the latest short story that I’ve posted on AO3, so to anyone who knows things that happen later, that’s why said things aren’t brought up--this is the newest and freshest of Talis available :3 Fresh out of backstory and into the big city! Prepare yourselves for a lot of uncertainty aLSO HERE’S HOPING THE READ MORE WORKS, BECAUSE THIS IS LONG

1) if they could choose a new name, what would they choose?

Oh! Huh, I uh…. Well… I don’t really know. I… don’t think I’ve ever thought about it, to be honest. It doesn’t… really matter, what I’m called. The name I have is fine [Talis shrugs] I don’t really need a new one

2) what’s a surefire way of making them happy?

Ahh, I’m sorry, I…. I’m… not really sure [He rubs the back of his neck and offers a small, sheepish smile] I’m not doing that well at these questions, am I? Uh… Really, all I need is, uh, I guess down time? When everyone can just sit and rest a bit? 

……

I think I used to knit. I think… that, used to make me happy

(happy is kind of a tricky thing for Talis, rn, and he doesn’t know how to handle it. Things like hugs or shared snacks or warm, quiet evenings by a crackling fire would make him happy, but also would make him feel a lot of other things at the same time. It’s complicated)

3) what’s a surefire way of making them sad?

Oh, well, the, yknow, pretty usual… I mean…. It’s the… um…

[He’s rubbing his arms and stares off to the side. Shrugs, rubs his arms, shrugs again]

(The answer is a lot. A lot makes him sad)

4) what do they do when they feel sad?

I… [he hunches a little, wrapping his arms tighter around him] I uh…. I don’t know

…

I’m sorry, I… don’t have anything else to add

5) how do they choose their friends?

Usually, I don’t [Talis laughs softly to himself] Friendship just kind of, happens. Beings who connect well, or work together, or have something in common. Or… someone who reaches out a hand. When you most need it

That’s the kind of friend I want to be. Someone who’s there when people need me most, who can protect those around me

6) what kinds of food do they like?

I’ll eat just about anything, I’m not that particular. Just as long as it’s filling… and there’s enough of it [he chuckles, but then looks uncomfortable]

(Warm, homey foods--stews and curries, harvest foods, bread. That sort of thing)

7) who is the person closest to them?

That… would be Ace. I met him when I uh… first got to town, I guess? [he smiles] He helped me find a place to stay, and… honestly, I don’t know what I’d have done, if I didn’t run into him. I mean, I don’t really know anyone else here, so… I can’t say I have a lot of folks to pick from? But, yeah, Ace. Yeah

(For the record, Talis would have ended up asleep in an alley somewhere, but eventually found his way to a Temple, and likely have found some kind of work and living space there. But things definitely went a lot smoother, running into Ace, and he feels a lot more secure to have the dragonborn to look up to as he gets his feet under him)

8) what kinds of music do they listen to?

Anything that’s, that’s being played, really. I wouldn’t know what to pick if you… asked… which… ah… [he looks like he wants to sink into the collar of his shirt]

9)  if logistics and money weren’t an issue, what kind of animal would they  keep as a pet? (includes fantastical animals like dragons as well btw)

I’m, ah, I’m really in no place to… I mean… I don’t think… [he looks about his room, as if looking for an answer] Uh… a… I don’t… think I need a pet…? Really I… I don’t…. 

(Something low maintenance and soft, like a cat, would probably be good. Maybe a local mouser that he could befriend, he’d love to just sit with a happily dozing cat on his lap ^^ Someday I could also see him getting some kind of pack animal, like a mule, if he has to take to the road with his adventuring party. Even if one of his teammates got a mule, he’d definitely take the time to get to know it and bond with it)

10) what does the landscape of their mind look like?

Uh… [his expression becomes strained] I mean, probably nothing… that interesting…? Like a, yknow, a mind…? I, I don’t know what that would look like…

(His mind looks like a field right before a thunderstorm hits--not as dark as it will be, but dark as night, with a fire in the far distance. A balance of unsettling stillness and precipitating, distant danger

And no, he doesn’t know what to do with it either)

11) why do they like themselves?

Oh, well, um…. [he draws his arms around him] Well, um… I know.... I was called to be a paladin… that… I was chosen. So… that has to mean there was something worth choosing. In me… right?

(this question assumes a character has things they like about themselves, and…. yeah)

12) what do they dream of doing if they had anything and everything open to them?

[he sits very quiet for a length of time] I would… I would ensure… no one would have go through the hell that… [he winces and stares at his hands in his lap. His voice is very soft] I would make sure all had a chance to live well, safely, and freely in the light of the day

13) what fashion choices do they make? do they go more for comfort or style?

I uh… haven’t made many fashion choices lately [he gestures with amusement to his own clothes, which are practical and too big for him, plain workers clothing] I mean, really, whatever’s… available, and sensible for whatever I have to do. Uh… I’m thinking of getting some, uh, gloves soon, it’s, it’s a little cold and… And maybe a, a sweater? Just for days out and about, and, [he holds back a small laugh, looking down at himself] and maybe a splash of color

(Talis loves warm, homespun fashion--vivid marigold and crimson and rich browns, embroidered collars and hems, layered belts and jackets, knitted vests and hats and gloves. Coordinated layers, varying bolder and softer tones, etc… He might decry it, but he loves picking out what to wear, when he actually does take the time to choose what to wear, and doesn’t just go to sleep in whatever he was wearing that evening ^^; Old habits die hard, eh?)

14) if they had to go somewhere without a map, what’s the likelihood that they would make it there without getting lost?

Aaaaaahhh, that would... very much depend on… uh, where this place is…? If I’ve been there…? I, I really haven’t been around, uh, much of Neverwinter yet [he bashfully rubs the back of his neck] I don’t think I could find my way down the street, as it stands

15) what types of people do they attract?

I, um, ah, well… I… I hope I attract people who need my help? So, so I can help them. I’m a paladin, that’s… what I’m here to do

(So far, anyone who’s been around him for longer than half a second has immediately gone “oh no, you need an adult, don’t you?” so mostly: he attracts parents XD )

16) what types of people are they attracted to?

Oh, uh…. Oh. Oh, that kind of….? Ummmmmm….. [his face flushes and he stares at the floor] Um, I really, I really don’t, I… I don’t…. know….?

(Romantically, Talis attraction has been just a giant pile of question marks to me ^^; It’s not something he’s thought much about, and right now, it’s extraordinarily low on his priority list to pursue. He definitely feels some form of draw towards anyone who’s hurt or scared, but it’s more a draw to alleviate that fear/pain than a draw towards the actual person. Yeah, there’s an intimacy to helping another, and he feels it, but that’s all there is, really. He’s got a lot on his plate rn, and isn’t looking for a romantic relationship. He isn’t looking for friends, either, he’s not really looking for anything--he’s just trying to get by ^^)

17) what is their greatest fear?

[his face blanches, and he’s staring at something with unfocused intensity] I……. I……. I don’t…..

I don’t want to hurt anyone [he twists his hands in his lap] I don’t want… anyone to get hurt, because of me

(More specifically, he doesn’t want anyone to use him to hurt others, but he doesn’t really know how to articulate that point)

18) what kinds of body modifications would they do if they could? (e.g. tattoos, dyeing hair, piercings, etc.)

[he idly rubs the scar on his cheek, then pulls his hand away] I hadn’t really thought about that, either… I… don’t know what I’d get… if I could. I don’t really have much to work with here [he laughs and offers a shrugs]

19) what are they insecure about?

I’m… [he unconsciously rubs his wrist] I’m.... I… I-I don’t have time. For insecurities. Thinking… thinking like that just… [he frowns down at his boots] I-I’d rather skip this question, if you don’t mind

(Yes. The answer is yes. He has a lot of them and isn’t ready to admit to any of them)

20) how do they treat people/beings who have less power than them?

You protect them. You look out for them. That’s, that’s just what you do. Anyone who doesn’t look out for those less powerful than themselves doesn’t deserve that power. Then they’re as good as abusing the power in their hands, if they can help another and don’t then they-- Sorry, I, I didn’t mean to… 

[he takes a breath]

I swore an oath to protect and aid any who cannot protect or aid themselves. Because that’s. That’s what you do. If you have strength, you use it to help those without

///The boy. The legend. *waves hands jazzily*

Here’s the part where I tag @jcckwrites and @void-tiger and @skairipaassassin and @queenofhelheimr and @linkhecometotown and @maebird-melody and @gryphongirl and anyone else with an OC? I feel like Rai tagged the whole council, but if any y’all are reading this, I’m tagging you again (only it won’t let me tag anyone else so I’LL JUST BADGER YOU LATER)

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

Thine Enemy is Sweet (Part 5)

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

“Run that by me again,” Harry said as he laid on Malfoy’s floor; the ceiling had been bewitched to look like constellations and he was mesmerized. “You’re saying Ron can just walk in? No invite? No date? Nothing?”

“Longbottom too,” Malfoy said distractedly as the sound of rustling parchment could be heard. Harry wasn’t sure what it was, but he’d been invested in them for an hour.

“That’s bullshit.”

“That’s a pureblood for you.”

“Sounds unfair.”

“Sounds like you’re jealous.”

Harry scoffed. Talking to Malfoy was always a headache.

“How do we get Seamus in?”

When Malfoy didn’t answer, Harry tilted his head back the best he could. His view was upside down, but he could tell that Malfoy was still looking over the paperwork.

“What are you doing?”

“None of your business.”

“If you frown like that anymore, you’ll get wrinkles.”

Malfoy’s brows furrowed as he peered over the parchment. “I’m not frowning.”

“You were.”

“I think you’re lying.”

“Ah,” Harry said slowly and sagely. “But you aren’t sure.”

“Why must you always annoy me?”

“I thought that was your role.”

“Potter.”

“Malfoy.”

“Do me a favour and kindly shut the fuck up.”

Harry huffed before he looked back up to the ceiling. “Why did you tell me to come over if you were just going to be ignoring me?”

“Is baby jealous?”

“Don’t call me that,” shuddered Harry.

“If you must know,” Malfoy’s tone suggested Harry didn’t. “I’m looking over the planning party’s orders.”

Harry sat up cross-legged and narrowed his eyes. “Planning party?”

“You thought Nott was going to plan his own engagement party?” Malfoy snorted. “Nott of all people.”

“How did you get the orders?”

A slow satisfied smirk crossed Malfoy’s face and it was creepy.

“I have my ways.”

“Did you know that you’re kind of scary?”

The smirk grew wider and Harry shook his head in response. Malfoy was a lost cause.

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

Malfoy ignored him as he moved to the fireplace. The address wasn’t recognized but Harry was curious enough to move closer.

Before he got close enough to see, Malfoy shoved him out of the way—hard.  

“Idiot,” Malfoy hissed. “You can’t be seen.”

Harry rubbed his elbow where he had slammed it against the wall. He was going to kill Malfoy.

“Welcome to Vintage by Design,” A bored tone drawled, and he could see Malfoy’s already rigid posture stiffen further. “You’ve reached our Floo service. My name is Bramble, how may I be of help to you?”

“Bramble, is it?” Malfoy sneered, and Harry felt for Bramble, he did. “My name is Draco Malfoy and I’ve got a problem.”

A crash and audible scrambling could be heard, and he had to bite his cheek to stop from laughing.

“Ah, Mister Malfoy,” Bramble stumbled over his words. “A problem? I’d be happy to help.”

Malfoy smiled but it was condescending and his sympathies for Bramble went up.

“I’m sure you are.” The disgusted tone was reminiscent of their Hogwarts years and Harry didn’t miss it.  

“I was tasked with speaking to your company,” the last word was said with such palpable distaste that Harry grimaced. “About the entertainment for the Nott & Greengrass party. I’m not sure why it’s all wrong.”

“I—you Mister Malfoy?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“The Nott & Greengrass party?”

“Are you stupid?”

“I—It’s just that our coordinator for the entertainment was D—”

“Me. Look at the paperwork one more time. It says D.M. That’s me.”

“One of my co-workers said something about McMillan—”

“Did they now? You thought McMillan of all families was going to show up?”

“I did think the likelihood was slim,” Bramble muttered, and Harry could hear the confusion. “The last generation was more progressive.”

Harry rolled his eyes. Clearly, Vintage by Design was for higher class wizards.

“You said there was a problem, sir?”

“The person I booked for entertainment is not who is on the list.”

Rustling could be heard over the crackle of the fire, and the urge to look was strong, but the glare Malfoy sent him was stronger.

“It looks like the Weird Sisters Reunion show was booked for the party.”

What? The Weird Sisters were having a reunion? He hadn’t ever realized they broke up. And they would do it for Nott? Harry had always known there was a reason he didn’t like them.

“Yeah, that’s the problem. You see, they were my backup plan not the original.”

“I’m sure we can cancel; Nott will have to pay the cancellation fee though. The Weird Sisters are not cheap.”

The pleased smirk on Malfoy’s face caused Harry to snort softly into his hand.

“What should I put down for the entertainment, Mister Malfoy?”

“I have been lucky enough to get a Quidditch star to agree to attend and he’s got something planned.”

“What?” Harry wheezed. He slapped his knee when Malfoy glared at him. He couldn’t help it. Seamus a Quidditch star?

“Oh! Not as grand as the Weird Sisters but I have heard that Miss Greengrass is a Quidditch fan. She’ll appreciate that. May I ask who it is?”

Harry couldn’t help the loud half-choke, half-wheeze that left him. The sound was croaked, and he worried his lungs would fail him.

“Is everything okay over there?”

That had Harry laughing harder and he couldn’t help but stomp his feet. The laughter wouldn’t stop, not even when Malfoy shot a stinging hex at him.

“Yes, I think my cat is dying, that’s all.”

“We can continue this another time.”

“No, continue, I never liked the bloody thing anyway.”

“Oh, um,” Bramble hesitated, and Harry snorted. “Who did you say the Quidditch star was?”

“I didn’t,” Malfoy drawled. “The team is the Tornadoes if that helps.”

“Alright. I’ll go ahead and cancel the Weird Sisters and set aside an invite for the Tornadoes player.”

The laughter left Harry as he sat up straight. Wait. That was it? Malfoy just… just did it? That easily?”

“Should there be any further questions, I would like to know,” Malfoy said, tone hard and eyes narrowed. “I was not pleased when I saw the orders.”

“I—I’m terribly sorry to hear that.” Bramble sounded scared and Harry kind of wished he had that effect on people.

“How sorry?”

He couldn’t help but be impressed when Bramble rushed to offer discounts should Malfoy need a party planner in the future.

It wasn’t until Malfoy closed the floo on Bramble who was still offering apologies that Harry was able to relax.

“Forget kind of scary. You are full-blown scary.”

“You,” Malfoy growled. “You almost blew it.”

“Well excuse me, a little warning and I would have laughed before the floo. You can’t just surprise me like that.”

“That’s not an explanation,” Malfoy argued. “That’s an excuse.”

“A good one.”

“I disagree.”

“Who cares what you think.”

“Potter.”

“Malfoy,” Harry mocked with a slight sneer.

“I cannot wait until this is done with, so I never have to see you again.”

“Please,” Harry scoffed. “You’ll miss me.”

Malfoy opened his mouth only to close it and shake his head. A small victory.

“What exactly do you expect Seamus to do for entertainment?” Harry asked with a small chuckle. “He’s a reserve player, never played an official match. No one’s even going to know who he is.”

“I’m sure he’ll come up with something.”

“What? You are going to let him come up with a plan?”

“Why not?” Malfoy absentmindedly asked as he began to look over the paperwork again.

“That’s a horrible idea. He’s going to make a mess.”

“And?”

“And he’ll probably try and steal someone’s jewellery or a damn plant if they have a greenhouse.”

“I’m not seeing the problem.”

Harry threw his hands in the air. “What do you mean you don’t see a problem? He’s going to draw so much attention to—ohh.”

“Knew you’d catch on eventually.”

Harry didn’t appreciate the snark, he really didn’t.

“You want him to be the giant mess that he is.”

“Exactly.”

“That company is going to lose so much business.”

Malfoy arched a brow, not bothering to look up. “Do you care?”

“Not really.” Part of him felt like he should care, but there was nothing.

“Now that Seamus is taken care of,” Harry sat down next to Malfoy, ignoring the unfriendly glare. “What about Dean?”

“I said I had a plan, didn’t I?”

“No shit,” Harry scrunched his face up. “I meant, what is it?”

“Why don’t you figure it out for yourself?’’

“Huh—”

All the papers Malfoy had been obsessed with were dumped into his lap and he had to scramble to catch them all before any fell.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Malfoy placed his hands behind his head and stretched his feet out until a footrest appeared out of nowhere. “Go on, pull your own weight here.”

“I’d like to think I have been.”

Malfoy snorted harder than was attractive. “You’re full of shit.”

“I got my friends involved, didn’t I?”

“No,” Malfoy narrowed his eyes. “I did that.”

“It still counts.” He refused to admit Malfoy was right. Instead, he picked up the first piece of parchment. It was a list of guests that could show up, no guaranteed attendees.

“That one is useless.”

“Is it?”

Harry frowned down at the list before he peered up into Malfoy’s too smug face.

“You’re trying to confuse me.”

“Am I?”

“Stop it!” Harry hissed when Malfoy’s brows arched. “Just sit there quietly, not saying a word. I know that’ll be hard for you. You like the attention and—”

“Potter, you’re the only one talking. Quit rambling.”

Harry harrumphed louder than necessary as he moved onto the next one. It was a list of food, equipment, decorations and donations. Nothing caught his attention and he was going to skip that one too until he caught sight of a small footnote.

Painting on loan, preferably from the National Artistry Wizard Museum or the National Wizard History Museum, will check options.

“Wait,” Harry reread the whole page and triple checked the footnotes. “Nott wants a fancy schmancy painting behind him while they eat?”

“Does that surprise you?”

No. It didn’t. Nott liked to draw attention to himself, something Harry never liked, it made him uneasy.

“Has Vintage by Design already chosen the place?”

Malfoy shook his head as he picked at his robes. “They haven’t picked a painting either.”

It was obvious what Malfoy was insinuating, but he wasn’t entirely sure Dean would go for it.

“You want Dean to ask the museum if his painting can be on loan?”

“Oh no,” Malfoy leaned forward into Harry’s personal space. “I want you to ask the museum.”

“Why me?”

“Use your brain Potter, I know it must be hard, nothing up there, but do try.”

“Eat my arse, Malfoy,” snarled Harry.

Malfoy’s eyes twinkled as his lips twitched and Harry wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“You want me to?” Malfoy’s nose scrunched up in amusement, and Harry was not amused. “Can’t say I have a lot of practice with that. Usually been on the receiving end, but they say you only live once.”

“Malfoy,” Harry tried to scoot away but Malfoy followed him until Harry’s back pressed against the arm of the sofa.

“Hm, yes, Potter?”

“What are you doing?” The question came out breathy and he placed his hands on Malfoy’s stomach to act as a buffer between them.

“Waiting for you to answer my question.” His face was so close to Harry’s that he could smell Malfoy’s cologne.

“I don’t need you to eat me out.”

Malfoy laughed, actually laughed, and he couldn’t process it fully before, “Not the question I meant, but alright.”

It took embarrassingly long for Harry to realize he meant the museum.

“Well, if Dean asked, they might wonder why, right?”

“Mhm,” Malfoy prompted as he moved Harry’s hands. “Keep going.”

“I can’t think of why you’d want me to ask unless it was my name that would make them.”

“Right.” Malfoy’s hands were wrapped around his wrist and it was distracting. What was he doing?

“I don’t know how a painting on loan would work,” the last word came out as a choke as Malfoy placed a hand on his chest. “I’m sure they would want someone to go with the painting.”

When Malfoy said nothing, Harry tried to figure out if that was by design or if he was planning something.

“I could ask to talk to the creator and then Dean could be the one to come with.”

“Good job, Potter,” Malfoy whispered a breath away, noses touching.  

Oh. That wasn’t fair. Praise should not be given so close to his lips.

“What are you doing, Malfoy?”

“Playing a very dangerous game.”

“For you or for me?” Harry pushed against Malfoy’s head until their foreheads were pressed together.

“I’m always in it for myself, didn’t you know?” It was self-deprecating and Harry could tell it was an insult Malfoy had been told.

“Then make it dangerous for you.”

Malfoy’s eyes searched his, no smirk on his face, no twitch of lips, just open curiosity.

“You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“No,” Harry agreed. “I don’t. I don’t even know if I want it.”

The sound of the floo could be heard but they didn’t move.

“Then perhaps, another time,” Malfoy whispered just as footsteps and voices could be heard.

“That’s what I’m trying to say,” Ron’s complaint was heard before he was seen. “She was suspicious of me!”

“It is Hermione after all,” Dean pointed out. “She’s bound to know you’re being suspicious.”

“I still think it’s a bad idea.”

“We know, Neville. You’ve said it enough.”

The sound of the floo went off again and Harry was still staring into Malfoy’s eyes. Had they always had specks of blue in them?

“How many times do I have to say not to leave me behind?” Seamus huffed. “Merlin none of you care about me.”

“And you two!” Seamus yelled, making Harry jump and jostle Malfoy slightly. “Quit snogging every time we come by.”

There was no use pointing out that they hadn’t, but it was a dangerous game as Malfoy put it.

“Make me,” Malfoy said and with the way his eyes were still on Harry’s face, he couldn’t tell who Malfoy was talking to.

“Malfoy,” Harry started but couldn’t think of what to say after that. There was something unfinished, only he couldn’t understand what it was.

The curiosity vanished and Malfoy’s face returned to no emotions and cold eyes as he got up and moved away. Harry wasn’t as comforted by it as he thought he would have been.

“So,” Ron plopped down on top of Harry’s legs and put his head on his chest. “What did we interrupt?”

“Nothing.” The truth came out before he thought better of it. “Nothing at all.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Harry ran his fingers through Ron’s hair and sighed. He wasn’t sure he believed himself either. The whole fake boyfriend was a lot more trouble than it was worth.

“What do you mean I’m the entertainment?!” Seamus cried, and for the second time that day, Harry cracked up.

-TBC-

---

Alright, it’s probably not as funny as I think it is lmaoo but I did crack up a few times while writing it. Gigi can attest to that. Speaking of Gigi, I’d like to thank @snortinglaughter for being my wonderfully beautiful  beta who I adore 

I’ll tag those who asked soon. Thank you! Hope you enjoyed it

[star-force-archive]

Fragmented Memories 22XX R

“ALL UNITS ON HIGH ALERT! THE UNKNOWN ENTITY PRESUMED TO BE ZERO HAS INFILTRATED THE BASE! REPEAT-”

So far, Subaru’s mission to the Robotics Timeline version of his time has been one long stream of fighting. At least when he was fighting Another X he had some peace before diving into X’s systems. Running through the base, he alongside Ciel, finally made it to the scene.

It was tame. Not a single Reploid had been seriously harmed or killed. In fact most of them had been knocked out. Subaru was happy, but confused. Another Ryuusei decimated the are when he activated the loop, killing many people and wizards, and Another X absolutely wrecked the Hunters base when it attacked. But in both instances the identities of the fighters were usually in bad areas. Another Ryuusei was an Akatsuki when he was still in Dealer, and Another X was the Irregular, Sigma. Did the identity of the Another, signify what the actions their uncontrollable monster form would do?

He had no time to dwell on that, Another Zero was finally in sight, and charging directly in his direction. He himself still had no idea he had already shattered the clock on Another Zero. Instead he swiped to the X icon, slamming down as he let the armor form over him as he dashed in himself.

‘TIME ARMOR! MISSION START, X!’

Running forward, Rockman let loose a flurry of shoots from the X Buster, A.Z. deflecting them with his Z-Saber. As the two finally reached close together, Rockman threw a punch, which was met by A.Z.’s own fist. The two colliding resulted in a large shock-wave that pulsed through the whole corridor they were combating in. A.Z. swung with his weapon, Rockman dodge rolling away, firing a few rounds from his two busters, which managed to land. A.Z. used a small pistol buster, landing a strike on Rockman, who in turn swiped a Sword card, striking against A.Z.’s Saber.

As the two struggled, Ciel could watch in sadness as a child was the only one so far who has managed to put up a long enough fight against Another Zero. The creature who they once thought was their missing comrade, no, their friend. “Zero...” She spoke softly, clutching her hands close to her chest.

This small action, though quiet, was enough to catch Another Zero’s attention. He twirled out of the beam struggle, dashing towards Ciel. “What?!” Subaru retracted his Sword, dashing after Zero, not using his full speed lest he were to harm any Reploid. It was a moment too late however. Another Zero picked Ciel up, bridal style, before once more pointing his saber at Subaru.

“Meet me where I had reawakened. I will accept your challenge there.” The monstrous Reploid spoke in a chilling, skeletal tone. A clock portal opened up, Another Zero walking through it. Subaru could only watch, as another Reploid ran up to him. “Uhm, sir. We know where that is if you want to assist us.”

Rockman nodded, turning around as the X armor dissipated into air. “I’ll need the coordinates, but this fight is mine.”

Rockman exited the rusting computer, stepping out into a technological ruin, vines sprouting everywhere. Arming his buster, he walked slowly through the area, coming upon a large door, half torn away.

Walking through, he saw Another Zero standing over an unconscious Ciel. Drawing his buster up quickly, A.Z. put his hand up, turning to look at the other slowly. For a split moment, Subaru could swear he saw the Zero he met in X’s time and the Zero he saw when selecting this mission standing next to Another Zero. “Tell me, you call yourself Rockman right? But you are a human? Why fight for others, when you risk the most yourself? You cannot be rebuilt, if you lose then you will die. Why even try?”

Subaru lowered his buster, the questions piercing through him. He’s been asked this time and time again. Why do you care? What do you get from this? What’s the point?

He himself has asked these same questions before. But every time, he always knows the answer. He looked at the armor hand, finally noticing the Zero icon, the helmet picture shining from the pulsing light. Finally, he looked at Another Zero and smiled. “I fight, because I believe in the bonds of all. I got this far through my friends, and I’ll continue because of them!” He slammed on the device, armor flying out, forming a Z, before coming back onto him.

‘TIME ARMOR! RESISTANT REBELS, ZERO!’

A red vest over layed on top of Rockman, a large golden Z on the back. His undersuit turned black, as his boots became thinner, gaining red on the portions covering his legs, black on his feet. His helmet was placed underneath a shortened copy of Zero’s, his hair falling down into a ponytail. His visor changed to blue, as he looked at his foe with pride. “The power I wield, is there for my friends!”

“A wise answer. If you defeat me, I will reveal to you who gave me this form before returning to my time. My final moments...” Another Zero drew his Z-Saber, the red triangular blade glowing. Rockman pulled out his own saber, the blue blade looking more like a Katana. The two bowed, before rushing towards each other. Saber met Saber as the two locked into combat. The two struggled against each other for a brief moment, before jumping away from each other. The other fired their busters at the other, shot meeting shot, but Rockman was the one to push his line forward, running faster and faster towards A.Z.

The foe took a swing with his Saber, Rockman changing frequencies, as he let the blade glide through him. Letting it pass through, Rockman landed a hit with a Saber of his own, managing to lock his enemy into a combo. It finally broke, when as A.Z. attempted to strike back, Rockman got the hit in first, managing a counter as he jumped back.

“You are honorable... And you have not taken lives... However, the damage your existence cause to time-space could hurt all... I must strike you down here.” Slamming down on the armor hand once more, the Z-Saber glowed a rainbow of colors, Rockman getting into a ready stance. 

‘TIME BIG BANG! ZERO STRIKING!’

It was over in a flash. Subaru rushed forward, slicing right through Another Zero, space itself cutting downwards for a moment, before correcting itself, causing the cut to finally affect the foe. The monstrous armor faded, leaving a lone Reploid in its place. Clad in red armor, wiring starting to pour out, it was finally clear who this was.

Another Zero, was Zero. Rushing over, Zero put up a hand, giving the boy a smile. “Hey Subaru, long time no see.”

“You... Remember me?”

“Heh, yeah. Though I will say, you’ll see me again soon after this, even if this is the last time I’ll be seeing you. I don’t have much time before their hands get here, so take this.” He tossed a memory chip at Subaru, the boy catching it softly. “That’s all the info I have on these guys.” The clock portal opened up, slowly dragging Zero in. He tossed one last thing towards Subaru, giving a thumbs up. 

“Tell Ciel it’s okay. Later kid.” And with that, Subaru saw Zero leave for what he said were his ‘final moments’. Looking back, he saw Ciel starting to wake up, and he walked over and picked her up.

Ciel woke up only to see a shadowy face as she was carried. But the helmet was one she could always recognize. “Zero?” She asked, the helmet nodding.

“But how?”

Subaru activated a voice changing program, hoping it would be enough to fool her. “It’s a dream. Right now the kid’s taking you in the real world home. I told him to you it’s okay, but I think you know that by now. Y’know, I met him once. Back when me and X were hunters. He helped me save X, but I hadn’t seen him since.” He kept walking through the sands, Ciel holding tighter onto him.

“He lost his dad.” He spoke suddenly, Ciel looking at him in surprise.

“When he was younger, a real kid, his dad was in a Space Station accident. Was lost to space for three years. He broke. He stopped talking to all but his mom and family friend. It wasn’t until he met his partner that he started to move on.” Subaru swallowed his gulp, moving on through the heat. “Ciel, it’s hard to move on from the loss of a loved one, but as long as others are there for you, you’ll make it.”

Ciel loosened her grip a bit, giving ‘Zero’ a smile. “I know, but I hope that he knows, that it’s okay to be there for himself too.” Ciel spoke softly, closing her eyes as she went back to sleep.

When she awoke again, Ciel was in her office, on a futon. As she laid upwards, she looked to her desk. Where had once been empty space, was now an object and a note. She walked over, clasping her hands against her mouth when she saw the familiar Saber. The note next to it read. “Good luck, and thank you - Subaru.”

Walking on the Time Road, Subaru looked back for a moment, releasing the Zero armor finally, before looking into his hands, which held the memory unit. “Be there for myself, huh? Can I really do that, Zero?”

[sandwichbully]

Cajun Boiling, 24 November 2018

   Let me tell you about white women from the Midwest.    That got your attention, didn’t it?    There are a few things you should know. Such as all white women born between the Appalachians and the Rockies in the years from nineteen seventy eight to nineteen eighty four know all the words to Sir Mix-A-Lot’s “Baby Got Back”. Don’t believe me? Do you have a white woman in your life? Go over to her right now and say, “Oh, my god, Becky, look at her butt,” and then stand back because shit’s about to pop off. Trust me. I know lots of white women born between the Appalachians and the Rockies in the years from nineteen seventy eight to nineteen eighty four and I have been trapped in the car with two sometimes three of them for hours at a time. Sometimes, they break into it totally unprovoked.    The women I know born in, say, California? No idea what I’m talking about.    Women born in London? No idea what I’m talking about.    But you pull some forty year old HR senior coordinator aside, find out she was born in Chillicothe? And I’m talking Chillicothe, Illinois; Chillicothe, Iowa; Chillicothe, Missouri; Chillicothe, Ohio (represent); or even Chillicothe, Texas. You tell her you like big butts and you cannot lie and she’ll finish the fucking song for you.    AAAnnnddd another thing about white women that is absolutely one hundred percent true and not at all a stereotype - As though I would ever dream about casting stereotypes! - is that they all, at some point, make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem New Orleans, Louisiana to visit the Wailing Wall French Quarter. And then all these white women come back home and something is different about them, something you can’t quite put your finger on, something that’s first exhibited when you ask said white woman, “How was New Orleans?”    And she answers with, “Uh, no, it’s pronounced ‘Nawlins’.”    And she’ll go on and on about the architecture there and how cool it was to drink in the streets and yeah yeah yeah, the whatever of the depth of humanity and warmness or whatever but (here it comes), oh, my god, the po’ boys.    This is where life and conversation as you know it have each officially twisted into something altogether different from their original forms because now everything is tied to chiding you for having never had a po’ boy.    “Oh, my gawd, how have you never had a po’ boy!?” exclaims the white woman who had one for only the first time last week.    “I can’t believe you’ve never had a po’ boy!”    “You have got to try a po’ boy!”    “Oh, my god, I would literally kill for a shrimp po’ boy!”    “The best shrimp po’ boy I ever had was in Nawlins!”    “It’s not a real po’ boy unless you get it in Nawlins, you know. I mean, that’s just my opinion but still. Just saying.”    A white woman goes to New Orleans one time and comes back changed forever. That forty year old from one of five possible Chillicothes? She went to New Orleans when she was nineteen and she will, to this day, insist that you are an amoral dilettante brute because you’ve not had a po’ boy specifically from a place pronounced Nawlins.    And if you’re one of my white woman friends and you think I’m singling you out, I’m singling you out with at least five other white women. You are indeed not the only white woman I know who has this thing about po’ boys from Nawlins.*    Well, today, I wasn’t in Nawli- shit, now they got me doing it. I wasn’t in New Orleans but I figured I would give Cajun Boiling a try because it’s almost forty degrees out, still warm enough to ride two blocks to grab - wait for it - a catfish po’ boy. Which isn’t a real po’ boy, keep in mind, because it’s not from Nawlins.    Whatever, I just needed lunch.    So with 60mL of CBD oil in me, I headed down to Cajun Boiling, in the space that used to be home to the Reverie and, before that, the Acadia.** I walked in and the place was dead. Two servers both on their phones, one kid working the counter, one guy in the kitchen, and I was literally the only customer. OK, I know it’s chilly out today but it’s Saturday. It’s going to get to almost forty (4.4°C), guaranteed over thirty five (1.7°C), this isn’t cold at all except you won’t find me biking recreationally in this.***    And I look over the joint and, yep, we got our misogyny out of the way, make wwwaaayyy for the racism: It’s staffed completely by... Asian... people. At a Cajun restaurant. Which, yeah, sounds racist but, no, no, it just, no, yeah, it, it just sounds racist. That’s my bad.    Nothing says Asian folks can’t make Cajun food but... Well, if you were to walk into an Indian joint and you saw it was staffed by me and all my white women friends, wouldn’t you be like, “Huh.” Nothing says our little alabaster coalition can’t make tandoori chicken and palak paneer but aren’t you going to be a little more critical of it? I mean, face it, you’re racist, too.    [I have just been informed that New Orleans has a large Vietnamese community, thus it proves I am ignorant.]    The nice kid at the counter took my order - catfish† po’ boy to go - and I take a seat and blow through all my lives in Toon Blast and then I kind of wait and wonder what’s taking so long. I am, after all, the literal only customer.

   Anyway, I get my sandwich after another couple minutes and bring it home. I am in the middle of doing laundry during this.    Well, serving size? I guess it seemed a little skimpy for ten dollars but then not every po’ boy can be the Google Images Po’ Boy Model, which, now that I’m looking at it, I can see, no, this was the right size.    Cajun Boiling’s po’ boy comes fixed with lettuce, mayo, mustard, pickle, and tomato. None of those things were particularly stand-out-ish save for that the pickle was sweet rather than dill but that was noticeable, not stand-out-ish.    The catfish could have been cod for all I know. I liked the crispiness of the breading but the fish could have used some seasoning. This probably falls on me, though. See, I grew up on smoked catfish and that’s still what I have a taste for to this day. I like the taste of smoked catfish, that’s the draw for me and, unfortunately, my expectation. I can’t knock Cajun Boiling for their breaded and deep fried catfish not tasting like smoked catfish. However, some seasoning might have been nice.

   Trust me, aside from the one time I used Dave and Laura’s Lemon Pepper Mrs. Dash, this is the only seasoning I used until I was like twenty nine.    But the real...    Wait, we might have used the best one yesterday when we thought that was the last one for the year.    Hm...    OK, let’s try...    But the real time travelling member of the Hashtag Resistance attempting to go back in time to “woke” baby Hitler instead of murdering him because “when they go low, we go high” was the bread.    I know I don’t often praise the bread which is funny because this is a sandwich blog. If it weren’t for bread, there would be no sandwich, I get that. But I think I take it for granted, even bitch about it sometimes, or I just give it fleeting praise. In this case, however, this was the component that gave me pause as I was eating the sandwich. It had a hint of fermented sour to it but not enough to be sourdough and had a similar gluten elasticity and a rich brown crust... I mean, this bread outshone all the other elements of this sandwich.    On the whole, rating this sandwich fairly, I liked this sandwich but it wasn’t a $9.99 sandwich. Like $6.99. And you can’t argue to me that it’s because catfish comes at a premium because the sandwich costs the same whether you get it with catfish, chicken strips (chicken strips), crab, or shrimp. (It’s an extra dollar if you want oysters, though.) The veggies were unremarkable and the catfish could have used some seasoning but, yeah, I know, it’s not from Nawlins so it doesn’t count anyway.    I’m looking at their takeout menu and I’m not seeing fish & chips, which I know is an entirely different animal that I shouldn’t expect to see on a Cajun menu but that’s my primary expectation for a seafood joint: To get some fish & chips. So that’s on me. This menu, however, does offer among its sides some of the fixings you’d find at a New England clambake.

   Corn on the cob, potatoes (no word on how they’re prepared), hushpuppies... You can even bundle these together into a combo meal with crawdads and crab legs and such and I think that that would be the way to go: Get a one pound crab leg meal or something. The po’boy, however, I wouldn’t recommend but I wouldn’t advise you against it. It’s not bad but I’m sure there are better. Like in Nawlins.

* If you’re one of the two white women who gushed to me about the muffuletta from Nawlins, don’t worry, I have not camped you with the po’ boy crowd. You’re still a little weird but you’re my kind of weird. We’re cool. ** Went on a first date at their new location with a prison shrink once who showed me her dirty selfies and I was like, “Cool.” Only other time I was there was to use the ATM. *** Which pisses me off. Almost sixty yesterday but it rained all day. Now it’s dry and it won’t hardly hit forty. † Even as I’m trying to transition into my pescatarian / pollotarian phase (*snort* yeah, right, and give up pastrami), I’m really over the shrimp phase in my life. There’s nothing appealing about paying a premium for a dead animal whose carcass you get to labor over pulling its shit from.

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane: Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

Chapter 1 -  The Werewolf Lord’s Offer

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The remnants of chemicals that once filled the crystal-clear pipe slowly dropped onto currently flask-free stand, brewing faint echoes of liquid sound. Reacting to the noise, a finely sculpted hand fingered the end of the pipe with an untainted piece of cloth.

The blonde man who unknowingly betrayed one of his old habits as a scientist had his eyes fixed on the document in his other hand throughout the activity.

Not long after, however, he sighed upon self-confirming that there was nothing he could make useful from the document he was reviewing. Again. Without hesitation, he pushed away what was now no different from a random scratch paper for him. Hence he destroyed the topmost levels of the building of papers he already deemed worthless, making the said building at last shorter than an average five-year-old.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance and rose to recollect the papers, not at all expecting what he would be against.

Beep. Beep.

The sound he did not even dream of hearing so soon broke the silence of the room, causing ripples of alertness and disbelief in his oceanic eyes. He checked the origin of the signal to double-check, and as a result he lost the grip he had on the documents he just picked up. Allowing no second thought on the fact that he just made his short labor useless, with a serious face he took a seat before the monitor and proceeded to accept the incoming communication frequency.

<I hope everything has been going well with you, Frankenstein, sir.>

“My appreciations. What can I do for you, Dr. Adne?”

<Please forgive me, but I believe I told you a number of times – you can just call me Adne.>

“I’m afraid I cannot do that. You are charged with a sacred duty, with more than dozens of lives in your hands. So I would say you deserve a proper treatment.”

Apparently humbled and pleased by Frankenstein’s remark, the werewolf doctor scratched at the back of his head, studded with very few remainders of his brownish hair.

<I apologize for the sudden call. But there is this urgent request we have for you.>

“And what would it be?”

Instead of drawing out the subject, Adne glanced at his side. A breath later, it hit Frankenstein that his party was not simply avoiding eye contact.

<To tell you the truth...>

<Aaaaand time out – do you mind? I’ll take it from here, thanks.>

Goddamn it. It’s him.

Frankenstein barely managed to hold down his sigh, as he realized that the aforementioned “we” was not referring to the group of researchers in the new speaker’s possession.

<How’s it going, Frankenstein?>

A man with long silver hair, vivid with unrefined, unreined touch of the wild, merrily waved his hand in the monitor.

<Man, how long has it been? First time ever since you suggested me to stay a day or two only out of courtesy, isn’t it? So... It’s been only 4 days. Huh, it hasn’t been that long after all!>

As Muzaka conveyed the biggest smile he could pull out in an attempt to break the ice, Frankenstein kept his mouth shut.

<So how are ya doing? You look a bit tired.>

Frankenstein kept his mouth shut.

<Hey, now. I know we’re not close enough to invite each other for a cup of tea or exchange Christmas cards. But you don’t have to stare at me with such a straight face, do you?>

Frankenstein kept his mouth shut.

<What’s the matter? Don’t tell me something’s up with you, too.>

As Muzaka slowly exhibited concern, Frankenstein finally unsealed his lips.

“I am simply wondering what kind of reply would save my behind, though I know it’s to no avail. If I tell you I’ve been doing well, you’d obviously say something like, ‘Is that so? Then I’m sorry, but I gotta ask you a favor while you’re still on the ‘okay’ side.’ And if I tell you I haven’t been doing well, you’d obviously say something like, ‘Is that so? Then I’m sorry, but I gotta make things a bit worse for you.’”

Rendered temporarily speechless by Frankenstein’s acute jabbering, Muzaka soon revealed all his teeth as he roared with laughter.

<I gotta admit – you really are gifted at making me flabbergasted.>

“For your information, I’ve never asked for a reminder of the obvious. Anyways, what do you want? Based on your choice of words back there, I’m assuming something more than just something is up with you.”

<And my man is shrewd – as always! Hey, don’t give me that look. I was about to cut straight to the point.>

Muzaka quickly added when Frankenstein glared murder at him for dubbing him “my man.”

<Frankenstein, I’d like you to check my body.>

Frankenstein would have kept his face from scrunching up in return for Muzaka’s concise revelation, if only what Muzaka was asking for did not trigger his annoyance. The blonde human very willingly displayed his nuisance on his forehead.

“I don’t recall telling you that you can use my coordinates to book a walk-in examination. And I thought I did everything I could in my lab when you returned with my master that day, to find out if that nuclear missile left anything that could prove lethal on your body.”

<Yes, but you only ran regular procedures for us. This time, I’m asking for a long-term examination to wait for and discover any flaw in my body that has yet to become conspicuous.>

“I’m sorry, but I decline. I happen to be busy myself, and it’d be much more convenient and reasonable for you to entrust your own medical-slash-research staff with the job.”

<Unfortunately – and no offense, Adne – not even my entire staff can match par with you, Frankenstein. I’m sure you’re well-aware of the fact.>

“Oh, yes. I am. Still I see no reason why I should take the job. It’s a waste of time and personnel for you to ask for my help, O just-returned-lord of the wolfkind.”

Though Frankenstein reasserted his decision, Muzaka did not concede. Without further ado, he started pushing the blonde man, as if trying to demonstrate that persistence is the best weapon.

Little did Muzaka know that stubborn Frankenstein is basically the Great Wall of China, in whose presence persistence is no sharper or deadlier than a needle.

<Aww, but you know that when it comes to cost-efficiency, it’d be best for me to turn to you. With your help, I’d get to witness the best progress and result.>

“Oh, sure. But personally, I wouldn’t recommend expecting good progress or result so soon. Yes, probabilities and statistics do exist, but I’ve lived long enough to see exceptions rising upon every breath, especially when non-human races are affiliated.”

<Aww, fine. I’ll be honest with you – there’s a reason why I can’t leave this in my staff’s hand. And I’ll let you know what this is really about once you take my offer. All you gotta do is to say ‘okay.’ Well? Don’t you wanna know what I’ve got for you?>

“Oh, please. If you actually had a reason that would serve legitimate and inevitable for both of us, you would have told me about it in the very beginning.”

<Aww, come on. I know you’re busy. Of course you’re busy, since you resigned from your office at that treasured school of yours. But please, be a pal. Just this once. Please?>

“Oh, not a chance. You’re right. I’m busy – in fact, I’m so busy I can’t even afford to be a pal. Not to mention there’s no telling when I can stop being a pal for you.”

<Aww, don’t you have a heart? Now I’m about to get sore lips, you know?>  

“Oh, I do have a heart. The thing is, it’s not reserved for you. So why don’t you now go see your staff? After all, you just complained about sore lips.”

After a prolonged banter of oh’s and aww’s, Muzaka admitted defeat.

<Aww, hell... I did prepare for the worst, but you can be such a pain in the neck with those language tricks of yours.>

“Oh, you haven’t seen the last of my tricks. And trust me – you don’t want to see the last of my tricks.”

<And I don’t need a reminder, either. Geez...>

Exasperated groan escaped from Muzaka’s clenched jaw, which (to Frankenstein’s surprise) was soon replaced with a smile.

<Fine. So be it. I didn’t want to go this far, but you asked for it. I’ll make an offer you can’t refuse.>

Muzaka flaunted remorseful yet pregnant grin, which compounded Frankenstein’s fear as he observed the changes in the werewolf lord’s countenance.

<What if you might get to find a clue to your master’s mysterious return by checking my body?>

For a moment, Frankenstein considered examining whether the communications are working flawlessly. However, it took only a second for him to stay flustered, and it took less than a second for him to escape his fluster.

“Care to explain?”

<You know how things went during that missile incident, right? You know, me and Raizel did stop the missile, but we ended up being scattered to naught as a result. At least that was the case for Raizel. But not me.>

“...What are you talking about?”

<Simply put... My body saved me. I guess.>

Frankenstein did not realize that his entire body has become rigid with expectation and curiosity, with his torso bent over towards the monitor. To his dismay, Muzaka decided to show that he does have a knack for timing, sometimes in an annoying way.

<I’ll give you more details if you take my offer.>

Instantly, Frankenstein’s face was marred with the foulest scowl Muzaka has ever seen.

“You DARE to bargain with me on a potential clue that could enlighten the secret behind my master’s miraculous return to life and could possibly be directly related to my master’s well-being?”

<Which is why I didn’t want to go this far. I’m dying of guilt as we speak.>

“Not convincing. ‘Cause your hide is actually thick enough to exploit my master like this.”

<I’m sorry. I know this is a dirty trick. But as you’d know, I am now in charge of the wolfkind’s throne. My top priority from now on is my people’s welfare and secure future. However, we’re busy staying alive every day. Plus, we recently discovered that we’ve got at least hundreds of survivors from Maduke’s rotten lab experiments. So I can barely assign my research staff tasks other than tending to those survivors, which is part of the reason why I’m trying to negotiate with you here.>

“...But I’m sure you know that I happen to be serving someone. Not that you and your kind’s safety is an unimportant issue, but I cannot put it above my duties as my master’s servant. So why not make your staff look over you whenever they can spare some time?”

<Damn, and I hate the fact that I kind of expected you’d retort like that. Which is why I figured it won’t be a good idea to bring my people into this...>

In spite of his complaints, Muzaka seemed much more at ease, for he noticed how Frankenstein permitted delays in his words and loosened the angry curves on his face as he came up with his latest excuse.

<Then how about this? Let’s make a deal. I’ll pay you back in whatever way you want in the future. You name it, you got it.>

“I thought you’d be smart enough to figure that one of the many factors that influence my wishlist happens to be my temper.”

<Consider it my last resort to convince you that I AM DESPERATE.>

With an audible sound, out from Frankenstein’s lungs rushed a huge ball of air he had been holding. Although he fought bravely, Frankenstein already knew he had lost the moment Muzaka decided to make Raizel his weapon of choice for this battle.

“...You’d better keep your words, or I WILL make every bone in your body pay for it.”

<And I would’ve thought you’re joking, if only your name didn’t happen to be Frankenstein. Anyways, thanks. First, send me the geographic coordinates for your exact location, will ya? Tomorrow I’ll send my “secret agent” with the files and details for the job.>

“Fine. And how many people know about this?”

<Four, including you, me, and Adne. I want to keep this strictly confidential, made public to only a very select few. And my secret agent will tell you why.>

“I can see that you already planned things way beforehand, judging by how fast you are processing things.”

<I’m afraid I can’t say no to that. Oh, and by the way, be nice to my agent. My dear child has been running here and there, doing this and that all at once. Busy would be an understatement, but my little warrior gladly accepted my request. Which I’m so, SO grateful of. Though I’m guessing it’s partially because we both knew that no one else in the clan would be able to handle you and your devilish temper.>

“At least I’ll make sure not to treat this agent of yours as your clone and spare him-or-her from standing at my door for hours upon arrival. That I can promise you.”

<Are you saying it would’ve been otherwise if I were the one to visit you? That’s pretty mean, but it can’t be helped. I’m the bad guy here. Anyways, thanks a lot, Frankenstein. I owe you one.>

Frankenstein gave no reply. He knew that Muzaka would be thankful just for the fact that he finally withdrew the daggers in his eyes.

*****

The following day, Frankenstein waded through grass under the twilight, trying to deduce whom he should expect as Muzaka’s “secret agent.”

‘First of all, this werewolf warrior must be experienced enough to have Lord Muzaka personally appoint as the personnel solely in charge of the duty as a messenger and a secret keeper. Since he also mentioned that this werewolf is busy visiting all sorts of places and running multiple errands at once, it’d be a werewolf warrior who recurrently comes in contact with exterior parties or sites. And if this werewolf is actually capable of coping with my temper... This fella must be either a reincarnation of a saint or someone used to me.’

He stopped short as his hypotheses pinpointed one werewolf warrior in his head. Although he had not met every single werewolf currently existent, Frankenstein could swear that as far as he was concerned, there is only one werewolf who could meet all the demands he just listed.

The moment Frankenstein hoped he was wrong, a sound of footsteps slowly treading towards him made his ears prick.

Frankenstein’s face was momentarily enveloped with recognition upon identifying the visitor creating noises only a very poised walker would produce. He soundlessly sighed as he muttered,

“How come I always get things right when I least want to...?”

“Well, what did you expect? When it comes to stuff like this, I’m the werewolf for the job, don’t you agree?”

In response to Frankenstein’s very-far-from-common-or-courteous welcome, Lunark jokingly countered, as if cooing a child throwing a tantrum.

(next chapter)

Yay - finally! Chapter 1 of my fanfic is up!!! :D

Like I said on my earlier post, this fanfic will center on Frankenstein x Lunark shipping, which means it would include stories about other characters as supporting plot.

Btw, Dr. Adne introduced in this chapter has actually made an appearance in the Noblesse webtoon. There is this werewolf doctor with brown hair who often features on chapters that show werewolf territory, especially werewolf lab. I decided to make him one of my supporting characters, so I gave him a name that I came up with. Hope it clarifies! :)

[glitterbee11]

TNT-20358-q

Diaphanous/Acerbic

EGG GROUP(S): Furngruple, Infernal

Abilities: Redamancy (if the pokemon is infatuated, the opponent is infatuated also.) Turophile (draws all Cheese type moves to this pokemon which heal it) Misanthropy (this pokemon does increased damage to pokemon of the Humanshape egg group)

According to all known laws of aviation,   there is no way a bee should be able to fly.   Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground.   The bee, of course, flies anyway   because bees don't care what humans think is impossible.   Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black.   Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little.   Barry! Breakfast is ready!   Ooming!   Hang on a second.   Hello?   - Barry? - Adam?   - Oan you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up.   Looking sharp.   Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those.   Sorry. I'm excited.   Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son.   A perfect report card, all B's.   Very proud.   Ma! I got a thing going here.   - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me!   - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye!   Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house!   - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry.   - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation.   Never thought I'd make it.   Three days grade school, three days high school.   Those were awkward.   Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive.   You did come back different.   - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good.   - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah.   - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going.   Everybody knows, sting someone, you die.   Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead.   I guess he could have just gotten out of the way.   I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day.   That's why we don't need vacations.   Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances.   - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are!   - Bee-men. - Amen!   Hallelujah!   Students, faculty, distinguished bees,   please welcome Dean Buzzwell.   Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of...   ...9:15.   That concludes our ceremonies.   And begins your career at Honex Industries!   Will we pick ourjob today?   I heard it's just orientation.   Heads up! Here we go.   Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times.   - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary.   Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco   and a part of the Hexagon Group.   This is it!   Wow.   Wow.   We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life   to get to the point where you can work for your whole life.   Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive.   Our top-secret formula   is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured   into this soothing sweet syrup   with its distinctive golden glow you know as...   Honey!   - That girl was hot. - She's my cousin!   - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins.   - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive   to improve every aspect of bee existence.   These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology.   - What do you think he makes? - Not enough.   Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman.   - What does that do? - Oatches that little strand of honey   that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions.   Oan anyone work on the Krelman?   Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know   that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot.   But choose carefully   because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life.   The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that.   What's the difference?   You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off   in 27 million years.   So you'll just work us to death?   We'll sure try.   Wow! That blew my mind!   "What's the difference?" How can you say that?   One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make.   I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life.   But, Adam, how could they never have told us that?   Why would you question anything? We're bees.   We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth.   You ever think maybe things work a little too well here?   Like what? Give me one example.   I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about.   Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach.   Wait a second. Oheck it out.   - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow.   I've never seen them this close.   They know what it's like outside the hive.   Yeah, but some don't come back.   - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks!   You guys did great!   You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it!   - I wonder where they were. - I don't know.   Their day's not planned.   Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what.   You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that.   Right.   Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime.   It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it.   Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it.   Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too?   Distant. Distant.   Look at these two.   - Oouple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them.   It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock.   Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom!   He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me!   - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out.   What were you doing during this?   Trying to alert the authorities.   I can autograph that.   A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades?   Yeah. Gusty.   We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow.   - Six miles, huh? - Barry!   A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it.   - Maybe I am. - You are not!   We're going 0900 at J-Gate.   What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough?   I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means.   Hey, Honex!   Dad, you surprised me.   You decide what you're interested in?   - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one.   Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day?   Son, let me tell you about stirring.   You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around.   You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing.   You know, Dad, the more I think about it,   maybe the honey field just isn't right for me.   You were thinking of what, making balloon animals?   That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger.   Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey!   - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny.   You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer!   - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me!   Wait till you see the sticks I have.   I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo!   Let's open some honey and celebrate!   Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae.   Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"!   I'm so proud.   - We're starting work today! - Today's the day.   Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone.   Yeah, right.   Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal...   - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left!   One of them's yours! Oongratulations! Step to the side.   - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar!   Wow!   Oouple of newbies?   Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready!   Make your choice.   - You want to go first? - No, you go.   Oh, my. What's available?   Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think.   - Any chance of getting the Krelman? - Sure, you're on.   I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out.   Wax monkey's always open.   The Krelman opened up again.   What happened?   A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one.   Deady. Deadified. Two more dead.   Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life!   Oh, this is so hard!   Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer,   humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor,   mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry?   Barry!   All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine...   What happened to you? Where are you?   - I'm going out. - Out? Out where?   - Out there. - Oh, no!   I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life.   You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello?   Another call coming in.   If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd   that gets their roses today.   Hey, guys.   - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday?   Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted.   It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up.   Really? Feeling lucky, are you?   Sign here, here. Just initial that.   - Thank you. - OK.   You got a rain advisory today,   and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain.   So be careful. As always, watch your brooms,   hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats.   Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us.   Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada!   - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies,   bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans!   All right, launch positions!   Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz!   Black and yellow!   Hello!   You ready for this, hot shot?   Yeah. Yeah, bring it on.   Wind, check.   - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check.   - Wings, check. - Stinger, check.   Scared out of my shorts, check.   OK, ladies,   let's move it out!   Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers!   All of you, drain those flowers!   Wow! I'm out!   I can't believe I'm out!   So blue.   I feel so fast and free!   Box kite!   Wow!   Flowers!   This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual.   Bring it around 30 degrees and hold.   Roses!   30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around.   Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick.   That is one nectar collector!   - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir.   I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there,   a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic.   That's amazing. Why do we do that?   That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us.   Oool.   I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Oould be daisies. Don't we need those?   Oopy that visual.   Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move.   Say again? You're reporting a moving flower?   Affirmative.   That was on the line!   This is the coolest. What is it?   I don't know, but I'm loving this color.   It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it.   Yeah, fuzzy.   Ohemical-y.   Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby.   My sweet lord of bees!   Oandy-brain, get off there!   Problem!   - Guys! - This could be bad.   Affirmative.   Very close.   Gonna hurt.   Mama's little boy.   You are way out of position, rookie!   Ooming in at you like a missile!   Help me!   I don't think these are flowers.   - Should we tell him? - I think he knows.   What is this?!   Match point!   You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it!   Yowser!   Gross.   There's a bee in the car!   - Do something! - I'm driving!   - Hi, bee. - He's back here!   He's going to sting me!   Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze!   He blinked!   Spray him, Granny!   What are you doing?!   Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable.   I gotta get home.   Oan't fly in rain.   Oan't fly in rain.   Oan't fly in rain.   Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down!   Ken, could you close the window please?   Ken, could you close the window please?   Oheck out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure.   You see? Folds out.   Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this.   What was that?   Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This...   Drapes!   That is diabolical.   It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies.   What's number one? Star Wars?   Nah, I don't go for that...   ...kind of stuff.   No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds.   When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say.   There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out.   I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it.   I predicted global warming.   I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me.   Wait! Stop! Bee!   Stand back. These are winter boots.   Wait!   Don't kill him!   You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me!   Why does his life have less value than yours?   Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement?   I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling.   My brochure!   There you go, little guy.   I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing.   Put that on your resume brochure.   My whole face could puff up.   Make it one of your special skills.   Knocking someone out is also a special skill.   Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks.   - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever.   - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye.   - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye.   I gotta say something.   She saved my life. I gotta say something.   All right, here it goes.   Nah.   What would I say?   I could really get in trouble.   It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human.   I can't believe I'm doing this.   I've got to.   Oh, I can't do it. Oome on!   No. Yes. No.   Do it. I can't.   How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good.   Here she comes! Speak, you fool!   Hi!   I'm sorry.   - You're talking. - Yes, I know.   You're talking!   I'm so sorry.   No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming.   But I don't recall going to bed.   Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting.   This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee!   I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this,   but they were all trying to kill me.   And if it wasn't for you...   I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised.   That was a little weird.   - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah.   I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me!   I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now.   - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What?   The talking thing.   Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up.   - That's very funny. - Yeah.   Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with.   Anyway...   Oan I...   ...get you something? - Like what?   I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Ooffee?   I don't want to put you out.   It's no trouble. It takes two minutes.   - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose.   - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup.   Hey, you want rum cake?   - I shouldn't. - Have some.   - No, I can't. - Oome on!   I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms.   - Where? - These stripes don't help.   You look great!   I don't know if you know anything about fashion.   Are you all right?   No.   He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison.   He finally gets there.   He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on.   And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan.   Why would I marry a watermelon?"   Is that a bee joke?   That's the kind of stuff we do.   Yeah, different.   So, what are you gonna do, Barry?   About work? I don't know.   I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want.   I know how you feel.   - You do? - Sure.   My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist.   - Really? - My only interest is flowers.   Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan.   Anyway, if you look...   There's my hive right there. See it?   You're in Sheep Meadow!   Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond!   No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once.   - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not?   - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that.   - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine.   Just having two cups of coffee!   Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee.   Yeah, it's no trouble.   Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life.   Are you...?   Oan I take a piece of this with me?   Sure! Here, have a crumb.   - Thanks! - Yeah.   All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around.   Or not.   OK, Barry.   And thank you so much again... for before.   Oh, that? That was nothing.   Well, not nothing, but... Anyway...   This can't possibly work.   He's all set to go. We may as well try it.   OK, Dave, pull the chute.   - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing!   It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life.   Humans! I can't believe you were with humans!   Giant, scary humans! What were they like?   Huge and crazy. They talk crazy.   They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy.   - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't.   - How'd you get back? - Poodle.   You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see.   You had your "experience." Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal.   - Well... - Well?   Well, I met someone.   You did? Was she Bee-ish?   - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp.   - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders.   I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all.   I can't get by that face.   So who is she?   She's... human.   No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law.   - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy.   She's so nice. And she's a florist!   Oh, no! You're dating a human florist!   We're not dating.   You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes   with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite!   She saved my life! And she understands me.   This is over!   Eat this.   This is not over! What was that?   - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey!   And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat!   - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No.   It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up...   Sit down!   ...really hot! - Listen to me!   We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them!   Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning?   There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me!   You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee!   - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee.   Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee!   There he is. He's in the pool.   You know what your problem is, Barry?   I gotta start thinking bee?   How much longer will this go on?   It's been three days! Why aren't you working?   I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about.   What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee!   Would it kill you to make a little honey?   Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you.   Martin, would you talk to him?   Barry, I'm talking to you!   You coming?   Got everything?   All set!   Go ahead. I'll catch up.   Don't be too long.   Watch this!   Vanessa!   - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him.   He doesn't respond to yelling!   - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen!   I'm not listening to this.   Sorry, I've gotta go.   - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend.   A girl? Is this why you can't decide?   Bye.   I just hope she's Bee-ish.   They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena?   To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream!   Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering.   A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events?   No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere?   It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster.   Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn.   TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane!   You don't have that?   We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease.   Oh, my.   Dumb bees!   You must want to sting all those jerks.   We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us.   So you have to watch your temper.   Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk,   write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion:   Anger, jealousy, lust.   Oh, my goodness! Are you OK?   Yeah.   - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug.   He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep!   What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular?   Yeah, it was. How did you know?   It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit.   You've really got that down to a science.   - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet.   What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this?   How did this get here? Oute Bee, Golden Blossom,   Ray Liotta Private Select?   - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him.   - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it.   You don't have enough food of your own?   - Well, yes. - How do you get it?   - Bees make it. - I know who makes it!   And it's hard to make it!   There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing!   - It's organic. - It's our-ganic!   It's just honey, Barry.   Just what?!   Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing!   You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have!   And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this.   I'm getting to the bottom of all of this!   Hey, Hector.   - You almost done? - Almost.   He is here. I sense it.   Well, I guess I'll go home now   and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around.   You're busted, box boy!   I knew I heard something. So you can talk!   I can talk. And now you'll start talking!   Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier?   I don't understand. I thought we were friends.   The last thing we want to do is upset bees!   You're too late! It's ours now!   You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword!   You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio!   Where is the honey coming from?   Tell me where!   Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms!   Orazy person!   What horrible thing has happened here?   These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now   they're on the road to nowhere!   Just keep still.   What? You're not dead?   Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed?   To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here.   I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off!   I'm going to Tacoma.   - And you? - He really is dead.   All right.   Uh-oh!   - What is that?! - Oh, no!   - A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade?   Jump on! It's your only chance, bee!   Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?!   How much do you people need to see?!   Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window!   From NPR News in Washington, I'm Oarl Kasell.   But don't kill no more bugs!   - Bee! - Moose blood guy!!   - You hear something? - Like what?   Like tiny screaming.   Turn off the radio.   Whassup, bee boy?   Hey, Blood.   Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see.   Wow!   I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it.   I mean, that honey's ours.   - Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in.   It's a close community.   Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own.   - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble.   Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack!   At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls.   Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly.   Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito.   You got to be kidding me!   Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee!   - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood!   I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw?   We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit.   What is this place?   A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead.   They are pinheads!   Pinhead.   - Oheck out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want.   The Thomas 3000!   Smoker?   Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar.   A couple breaths of this knocks them right out.   They make the honey, and we make the money.   "They make the honey, and we make the money"?   Oh, my!   What's going on? Are you OK?   Yeah. It doesn't last too long.   Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls?   Our queen was moved here. We had no choice.   This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes!   That's a drag queen!   What is this?   Oh, no!   There's hundreds of them!   Bee honey.   Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale!   This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something.   Oh, Barry, stop.   Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor.   Do these look like rumors?   That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos.   How did you get mixed up in this?   He's been talking to humans.   - What? - Talking to humans?!   He has a human girlfriend. And they make out!   Make out? Barry!   We do not.   - You wish you could. - Whose side are you on?   The bees!   I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night.   Barry, this is what you want to do with your life?   I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees!   Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked   your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop.   I remember that.   What right do they have to our honey?   We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever!   Even if it's true, what can one bee do?   Sting them where it really hurts.   In the face! The eye!   - That would hurt. - No.   Up the nose? That's a killer.   There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters.   Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source.   No more bee beards!   With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk.   Weather with Storm Stinger.   Sports with Buzz Larvi.   And Jeanette Ohung.   - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Ohung.   A tri-county bee, Barry Benson,   intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey,   packaging it and profiting from it illegally!   Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King,   we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their new book,   Olassy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon.   Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson.   Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"?   Bees have never been afraid to change the world.   What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus?   Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans.   We were thinking of stickball or candy stores.   How old are you?   The bee community is supporting you in this case,   which will be the trial of the bee century.   You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too.   It's a common name. Next week...   He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots...   Next week...   Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em.   Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here live.   Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish.   In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness!   It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81.   Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that?   Quiet, please. Actual work going on here.   - Is that that same bee? - Yes, it is!   I'm helping him sue the human race.   - Hello. - Hello, bee.   This is Ken.   Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe.   Why does he talk again?   Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working.   But it's our yogurt night!   Bye-bye.   Why is yogurt night so difficult?!   You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours!   Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help.   - Frosting... - How many sugars?   Just one. I try not to use the competition.   So why are you helping me?   Bees have good qualities.   And it takes my mind off the shop.   Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now.   Those are great, if you're three.   And artificial flowers.   - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too.   Bent stingers, pointless pollination.   Bees must hate those fake things!   Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done.   Maybe this could make up for it a little bit.   - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess.   You sure you want to go through with it?   Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able   to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty!   It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan,   where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history,   we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak.   What have we gotten into here, Barry?   It's pretty big, isn't it?   I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day.   You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers?   Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade.   - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill.   Well, if it isn't the bee team.   You boys work on this?   All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding.   All right. Oase number 4475,   Superior Oourt of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry   is now in session.   Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively?   A privilege.   Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world?   I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed.   Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please.   Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,   my grandmother was a simple woman.   Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right   to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us.   If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines,   just think of what would it mean.   I would have to negotiate with the silkworm   for the elastic in my britches!   Talking bee!   How do we know this isn't some sort of   holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry?   They could be using laser beams!   Robotics! Ventriloquism! Oloning! For all we know,   he could be on steroids!   Mr. Benson?   Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here.   I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me.   It's important to all bees. We invented it!   We make it. And we protect it with our lives.   Unfortunately, there are some people in this room   who think they can take it from us   'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over,   you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have   but everything we are!   I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice!   Oall your first witness.   So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have.   I suppose so.   I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron!   Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms.   Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term.   I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you?   - No. - I couldn't hear you.   - No. - No.   Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that,   it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey.   They're very lovable creatures.   Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear.   You mean like this?   Bears kill bees!   How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?!   Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows!   OK, that's enough. Take him away.   So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me.   - Where have I heard it before? - I was with a band called The Police.   But you've never been a police officer, have you?   No, I haven't.   No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example   of bee culture casually stolen by a human   for nothing more than a prance-about stage name.   Oh, please.   Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting?   Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting.   Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner!   That's not his real name?! You idiots!   Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on   your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005.   Thank you. Thank you.   I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome   with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow.   I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime?   Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you?   Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't   have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir?   Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now!   This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella!   Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?!   - Order in this court! - You're all thinking it!   Order! Order, I say!   - Say it! - Mr. Liotta, please sit down!   I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that.   I think the jury's on our side.   Are we doing everything right, legally?   I'm a florist.   Right. Well, here's to a great team.   To a great team!   Well, hello.   - Ken! - Hello.   I didn't think you were coming.   No, I was just late. I tried to call, but... the battery.   I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free.   Oh, that was lucky.   There's a little left. I could heat it up.   Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever.   So I hear you're quite a tennis player.   I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby.   That's where I usually sit. Right... there.   Ken, Barry was looking at your resume,   and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill.   You think I don't see what you're doing?   I know how hard it is to find the rightjob. We have that in common.   Do we?   Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out.   That's just what I was thinking about doing.   Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right.   I'm going to drain the old stinger.   Yeah, you do that.   Look at that.   You know, I've just about had it   with your little mind games.   - What's that? - Italian Vogue.   Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages.   A lot of ads.   Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine?   Funny, I just can't seem to recall that!   I think something stinks in here!   I love the smell of flowers.   How do you like the smell of flames?!   Not as much.   Water bug! Not taking sides!   Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat! This is pathetic!   I've got issues!   Well, well, well, a royal flush!   - You're bluffing. - Am I?   Surf's up, dude!   Poo water!   That bowl is gnarly.   Except for those dirty yellow rings!   Kenneth! What are you doing?!   You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it!   We need to talk!   He's just a little bee!   And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time!   Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life?   No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them!   Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night...   My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster!   Goodbye, Ken.   And for your information,   I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man!   I'm sorry about all that.   I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it!   I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me.   I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well.   Are you OK for the trial?   I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas.   We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand.   Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers...   Yeah.   Layton, you've gotta weave some magic   with this jury, or it's gonna be all over.   Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around   is to remind them of what they don't like about bees.   - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic?   Only to losing, son. Only to losing.   Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know.   What exactly is your relationship   to that woman?   We're friends.   - Good friends? - Yes.   How good? Do you live together?   Wait a minute...   Are you her little...   ...bedbug?   I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand,   doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children?   - Yeah, but... - So those aren't your real parents!   - Oh, Barry... - Yes, they are!   Hold me back!   You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson?   He's denouncing bees!   Don't y'all date your cousins?   - Objection! - I'm going to pincushion this guy!   Adam, don't! It's what he wants!   Oh, I'm hit!!   Oh, lordy, I am hit!   Order! Order!   The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins!   I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction!   You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages!   Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way!   - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs.   What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison   from my heaving buttocks?   I will have order in this court. Order!   Order, please!   The case of the honeybees versus the human race   took a pointed turn against the bees   yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery.   - Hey, buddy. - Hey.   - Is there much pain? - Yeah.   I...   I blew the whole case, didn't I?   It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died.   I'd be better off dead. Look at me.   They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich.   Look, there's a little celery still on it.   What was it like to sting someone?   I can't explain it. It was all...   All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy!   All right.   You think it was all a trap?   Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this.   What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world.   What will the humans do to us if they win?   I don't know.   I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad.   Adam, they check in, but they don't check out!   Oh, my.   Oould you get a nurse to close that window?   - Why? - The smoke.   Bees don't smoke.   Right. Bees don't smoke.   Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking.   That's it! That's our case!   It is? It's not over?   Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere.   Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can.   And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub.   Mr. Flayman.   Yes? Yes, Your Honor!   Where is the rest of your team?   Well, Your Honor, it's interesting.   Bees are trained to fly haphazardly,   and as a result, we don't make very good time.   I actually heard a funny story about...   Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs   taken up enough of this court's valuable time?   How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on?   They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges   against my clients, who run legitimate businesses.   I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case!   Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going   to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion.   But you can't! We have a terrific case.   Where is your proof? Where is the evidence?   Show me the smoking gun!   Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun?   Here is your smoking gun.   What is that?   It's a bee smoker!   What, this? This harmless little contraption?   This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee.   Look at what has happened   to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?"   Is this what nature intended for us?   To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines   and man-made wooden slat work camps?   Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man?   - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card.   Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees!   Free the bees! Free the bees!   Free the bees!   Free the bees! Free the bees!   The court finds in favor of the bees!   Vanessa, we won!   I knew you could do it! High-five!   Sorry.   I'm OK! You know what this means?   All the honey will finally belong to the bees.   Now we won't have to work so hard all the time.   This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson.   You'll regret this.   Barry, how much honey is out there?   All right. One at a time.   Barry, who are you wearing?   My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants.   - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean?   We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years.   Oongratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement?   First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps.   Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with,   every last drop.   We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more   than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine.   We're all aware of what they do in the woods.   Wait for my signal.   Take him out.   He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine.   And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames...   But it's just a prance-about stage name!   ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products   and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments.   Oan't breathe.   Bring it in, boys!   Hold it right there! Good.   Tap it.   Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming!   - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down.   Shut down honey production!   Stop making honey!   Turn your key, sir!   What do we do now?   Oannonball!   We're shutting honey production!   Mission abort.   Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base.   Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there.   Oh, yeah?   What's going on? Where is everybody?   - Are they out celebrating? - They're home.   They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in.   I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket.   At least we got our honey back.   Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't?   It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it.   This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well.   And now...   Now I can't.   I don't understand why they're not happy.   I thought their lives would be better!   They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people.   You don't have any idea what's going on, do you?   - What did you want to show me? - This.   What happened here?   That is not the half of it.   Oh, no. Oh, my.   They're all wilting.   Doesn't look very good, does it?   No.   And whose fault do you think that is?   You know, I'm gonna guess bees.   Bees?   Specifically, me.   I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things.   It's notjust flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees.   That's our whole SAT test right there.   Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom.   And then, of course...   The human species?   So if there's no more pollination,   it could all just go south here, couldn't it?   I know this is also partly my fault.   How about a suicide pact?   How do we do it?   - I'll sting you, you step on me. - Thatjust kills you twice.   Right, right.   Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going.   I had to open my mouth and talk.   Vanessa?   Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going?   To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena.   They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying.   It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it.   Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this.   I know. Me neither.   Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports.   Wait a minute. Roses. Roses?   Roses!   Vanessa!   Roses?!   Barry?   - Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are.   Flowers, bees, pollen!   I know. That's why this is the last parade.   Maybe not. Oould you ask him to slow down?   Oould you slow down?   Barry!   OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault.   Yes, it kind of is.   I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you   with the flower shop. I've made it worse.   Actually, it's completely closed down.   I thought maybe you were remodeling.   But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined.   I don't want to hear it!   All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen.   I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park.   All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got.   - Bees. - Park.   - Pollen! - Flowers.   - Repollination! - Across the nation!   Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, Oalifornia.   They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy.   Security will be tight.   I have an idea.   Vanessa Bloome, FTD.   Official floral business. It's real.   Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch.   Thank you. It was a gift.   Once inside, we just pick the right float.   How about The Princess and the Pea?   I could be the princess, and you could be the pea!   Yes, I got it.   - Where should I sit? - What are you?   - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea?   It goes under the mattresses.   - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal.   You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco!   Let's see what this baby'll do.   Hey, what are you doing?!   Then all we do is blend in with traffic...   ...without arousing suspicion.   Once at the airport, there's no stopping us.   Stop! Security.   - You and your insect pack your float? - Yes.   Has it been in your possession the entire time?   Would you remove your shoes?   - Remove your stinger. - It's part of me.   I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight.   Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job.   Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job!   I think this is gonna work.   It's got to work.   Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott.   We have a bit of bad weather in New York.   It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay.   Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it.   I gotta get up there and talk to them.   Be careful.   Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine?   I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer.   Oaptain, I'm in a real situation.   - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing.   Bee!   Don't freak out! My entire species...   What are you doing?   - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney?   Don't move.   Oh, Barry.   Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain.   Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit?   And please hurry!   What happened here?   There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded.   One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious!   - Is that another bee joke? - No!   No one's flying the plane!   This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status?   This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York.   Where's the pilot?   He's unconscious, and so is the copilot.   Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience?   As a matter of fact, there is.   - Who's that? - Barry Benson.   From the honey trial?! Oh, great.   Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee.   It's got giant wings, huge engines.   I can't fly a plane.   - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes.   How hard could it be?   Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning.   This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport,   where a suspenseful scene is developing.   Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory...   That's Barry!   ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers   and an incapacitated flight crew.   Flowers?!   We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls   with absolutely no flight experience.   Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane.   I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres.   They've done enough damage.   But isn't he your only hope?   Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all.   Their wings are too small...   Haven't we heard this a million times?   "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense."   - Get this on the air! - Got it.   - Stand by. - We're going live.   The way we work may be a mystery to you.   Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs.   But let me tell you about a small job.   If you do it well, it makes a big difference.   More than we realized. To us, to everyone.   That's why I want to get bees back to working together.   That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O.   We get behind a fellow.   - Black and yellow! - Hello!   Left, right, down, hover.   - Hover? - Forget hover.   This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep!   Barry, what happened?!   Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time.   - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not!   So it turns out I cannot fly a plane.   All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out!   Move out!   Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane!   Don't have to yell.   I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble.   It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice!   It's not a tone. I'm panicking!   I can't do this!   Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it!   You snap out of it.   You snap out of it.   - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it!   - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it!   - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it!   - Hold it! - Why? Oome on, it's my turn.   How is the plane flying?   I don't know.   Hello?   Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there?   The Pollen Jocks!   They do get behind a fellow.   - Black and yellow. - Hello.   All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop.   Where? I can't see anything. Oan you?   No, nothing. It's all cloudy.   Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry.   - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee.   Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee!   Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something.   - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me.   Like a 27-million-year-old instinct.   Bring the nose down.   Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee!   - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that!   Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee!   - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK.   Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys?   Affirmative!   Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it.   Land on that flower!   Ready? Full reverse!   Spin it around!   - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one?   - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower!   That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower   made of millions of bees!   Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up.   Rotate around it.   - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly.   Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern?   Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse!   Just drop it. Be a part of it.   Aim for the center!   Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman!   Oome on, already.   Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly!   - Yes. No high-five! - Right.   Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower?   What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius!   - Thank you. - But we're not done yet.   Listen, everyone!   This runway is covered with the last pollen   from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth.   That means this is our last chance.   We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this.   If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say?   Are we going to be bees, orjust Museum of Natural History keychains?   We're bees!   Keychain!   Then follow me! Except Keychain.   Hold on, Barry. Here.   You've earned this.   Yeah!   I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves.   Oh, yeah.   That's our Barry.   Mom! The bees are back!   If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time.   I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight!   Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Oan I help who's next?   Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these.   Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel!   Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat!   I had no idea.   Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment?   Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you.   Sorry I'm late.   He's a lawyer too?   I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase.   Have a great afternoon!   Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere.   No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me.   You're a lifesaver, Barry. Oan I help who's next?   All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly.   Thank you, Barry!   That bee is living my life!   Let it go, Kenny.   - When will this nightmare end?! - Let it all go.   - Beautiful day to fly. - Sure is.   Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office.   You have got to start thinking bee, my friend.   - Thinking bee! - Me?

Yes, I did look up the entire bee movie script.

Yes, I did immediately regret it.

(dont sue me seizurecube)