#he would be arrested were he not a peak alpha | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eyitzme · 16 days

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ᶜˡᵉᵃʳ ᵈᵃᵗᵉ ; ˣᵃⁿʳᵉⁱ ⁽ᵈʳᵈᵗ⁾

Summary: Whit Young wants to set Xander Matthews up on a blind date with his friend. It sounds like fun, so Xander agrees…until he finds out on accident that Whit's friend and his blind date is Arei Nageishi. He cannot go on a date with her and now has to get his classmates to try to help him get out of this date! Word Count: 11,429 A/N: I saw a Tumblr post about reverse tropes, and one of them was about being set up for a blind date, but you know exactly who it is. I can’t find it anymore, but it inspired me to write a Xanrei one shot that was around 5,000 words. But then I got carried away and made it longer. Sorry, but the Xanrei demon is taking over. Run away, kitten, before the alpha in me comes out! The reason I got carried away was because I enjoyed writing Xander’s attempts to free himself from his blind date too much, and the more I wrote, the more I wanted to include all the DRDT characters, even though I only needed to write a little more than half of them. But they’re all just so fun to write, and their shenanigans are so entertaining… Don't blame me for this! Oh, and quick FYI: I’ve only been bowling, like, twice, and it wasn’t a “real” bowling match or anything. If I got anything about bowling wrong, please let me know!

i did what i had to do... but i guess i didn’t have to do it.

Xander Matthews wouldn’t say his life was boring. He was a student at Hope’s Peak Academy, and he went into it as the Ultimate Rebel, even though he didn’t like how his Ultimate title implied he was a bad person. His social life was great, and he had plenty of hobbies. In his opinion, his life was fine the way it was.

Whit Young, though, had his own opinions.

“You think I can get you a date?” he asked one day when they were hanging out at the coffee shop near Hope’s Peak Academy’s campus. They had just ordered inside and were now sitting at one of the table untouched on the round table, the umbrella covering them from the hot sun. The door to inside the coffee shop was open, letting the baristas shout orders to whoever was outside without leaving. The smell of coffee beans and soft classical music drifted out the doors with it.

Xander, who sitting across from him, frowned. “Why would I want a date?”

“Are you too busy for it?” he asked. “Are you not looking it right now? Do you not feel romantic attraction at all? Sorry, I keep forgetting to ask people if they want romance before I ask them something like that.”

“The answer is no for everything.”

“So, is the answer just a no? It’s fine if it is. I don’t judge.”

“Why do you want to find a date for me anything?”

“Okay, it’s not finding you a date. It’s more like... You’re the date I found.”

“What does that mean?”

“One of my friends wanted me to get them a blind date,” Whit explained. “Well, it was actually just a date, but I chose to go for a blind date. Considering who was asking me, I thought the thrill of not knowing who exactly you were going to go on a date with was needed. Anyway, since I came here as the Ultimate Matchmaker, I have to find the best person I can think of. I think you could fill that role. I know I’m technically breaking the rules since you already know each other and blind dates are setting up two people who don’t know each other, but I’m not gonna get arrested. If you could be arrested, I would’ve been locked up a long time ago.”

“I know them? Who’s your friend?” Xander asked.

He turned his palm to face him as he turned his head away. “I can’t tell you that. But if you were thinking about accepting, I’ll tell you that my friend’s a girl, in case you don’t like girls.”

“I like girls.” After thinking about it, he said, “What does this blind date have?”

“You’re actually thinking about it?” Whit grinned. “Great! So, if you agree, the date’s starting at a bowling area—she really wanted that—at around 6:00 P.M., and you’re going to stay for about one to two hours or however long you can go until you get sick of bowling with her. There’s an ice cream store nearby that doesn’t close until 10:30 P.M.—remember that, in case you somehow have enough patience to bowl with her for four and a half hours—and you can hang out until you decide to call it a night. Bowling should take up most of the evening, and the mini-ice-cream date closes it off. If you decide you want to do something after getting ice cream, go ahead, but that’s as far as I’m planning. This date is simple with everything you need to do spelled out for you, but I think that simple is best, especially for first dates, especially for first blind dates. You haven’t been on a blind date before, right?”

“I haven’t been on a date at all.”

“Neither has my friend, so maybe that can help you bond. But even if you did go on tons of blind dates, I still think blind dates should be simple and easy to do. Simplicity gives you your chance to get to know the other person and see if you’d like to spend more time with them. Complicated dates could make it frustrating to try to pay attention to the date and trying to get to know your blind date. It’s hard enough to have complicated first dates when you tend to already know the person you’re dating, but blind? I keep telling other matchmakers to go simple when they’re the ones planning the date, but some just don’t listen, and then I have to listen to stories of dates, blind or not, that went horribly wrong. Hey, am I rambling?”

“No, you’re fine.” Xander was a known rambler himself whenever he was talking about something he was passionate about. He tried not to get too into topics when that happened because he knew it annoyed some people, but he loved listening to others talk about what they liked.

Whit nodded. “Good to know. I’m done talking about the blind date anyway. What do you think?”

“It sounds like fun.”

“Do you want to do it?”

Xander’s life had never been filled with romance. He met people who were interested in romance, and he had small crushes throughout the years, but he wasn’t ever a part of a relationship. He had a lot of free time now that he was in Hope’s Peak Academy, and while he kept his focus on righting the wrongs in their world, he was fine with potentially finding a romantic partner. Besides, if the Ultimate Matchmaker was saying he thought there was someone he could possibly date, who was he to go against it?

“Sure,” he answered. “It sounds like something I’d be interested in.”

Whit smiled. “Thanks, Xander! I’ll let my friend know!”

He pulled out his phone and started to text his friend. While he did it, a barista from inside the coffee shop shouted their order. Before Xander could offer to get it, Whit left his seat to go get their order for him. He left his phone on the table, and Xander could see that it was clearly still on.

Blind dates were called “blind” because you weren’t supposed to know who you were going to meet. Xander knew that, but he also knew Whit had just been texting his friend that he agreed to the blind date. The knowledge of the latter made his body react before his brain could catch up.

Making sure Whit was still inside and not paying attention to him, Xander leaned forward to check who his friend was. Someone like Whit would make him think he saved people’s names in his contacts with jokes. For example, he would guess that he would save their classmate Hu Jing with some joke about her first name—“Hu is this?” would be his guess. It surprised him a little to see the contact name being a regular name in lower case, but he felt himself still as he read the name.

arei !! 🎳 was all it said, but it was enough.

There was no way Xander could go on a date with Arei Nageishi. Not with her, of all people. They could only get along when they were with other people. They didn’t act alike at all. They didn’t have anything alike other than being Hope’s Peak Academy students. Whit might be the Ultimate Matchmaker, but he made a mistake with this one. She was the one person he could never go on a date with.

Xander leaned himself back as Whit came back with their order. If he realized he left his phone, he didn’t seem bothered by it. He should be.

“Uhh, Whit?” He struggled to decide what he was going to say before settling on, “I actually don’t think I can do the blind date...”

Whit looked at him like he just told him he killed a puppy. “What? But you just agreed!”

“I know, but...” What could be a reasonable excuse other than I-saw-who-I-was-supposed-to-go-on-a-blind-date-with-on-your-phone-and-I-cannot-go-on-a-date-with-a-girl-who-angers-everyone-and-uses-her-looks-to-pretend-to-be-the-victim-before-immediately-going-back-to-insulting-people?

Whit used his silence to his advantage. “If you’re worried about being unsafe, don’t worry. You’re always in public areas surrounded by tons of people. She’s cool, and I know you can get along with her. You have a lot in common too. Trust me. Just relax and go with the flow. And I already told her I found her someone, so I can’t just immediately say that you cancelled.”

“It’s none of that. I just... I realized I don’t want to do a blind date.”

The blonde boy’s eyes roamed his face. He sighed and said, “I hate trying to force people to go on a date, but please, Xander, just one. It’ll last, like, four hours at most. It seems like a lot, but it isn’t. Once it’s done, it’s done. Just let me know it sucked, and we can move on.”

“You sound more desperate than before,” Xander said.

“I’ll admit, my friend can be a little scary when her emotions get the better of her. She’ll probably think I played some sort of prank on her, and then I’ll have to deal with that. And if you cancel, I’m probably going to need, like, solid proof that you genuinely had something important to do to convince her that it’s not something I made up—and to let me know that you’re not cancelling for no good reason, to be honest.” He held the coffee he ordered between his hands. “I feel like I’m asking for a favour now. That’s probably what I am doing. Please, Xander, I’ll owe you big time after this.”

Xander knew Arei. He knew how infuriating she was the moment he introduced himself to her and had to have their other classmate, Teruko Tawaki, drag him away before he could get carried away. He had no idea how she could do that, but he wanted to spend as little time as he could with Arei after that. Even though he succeeded so far, having less than 10 one-on-one conversations with her since they met, he didn’t want Whit to go through her rage. While he didn’t get along with Whit when they first met either, he knew Whit wasn’t as annoying of a person Arei was. He didn’t want to put him through discomfort.

But he still didn’t want to go on a date with Arei.

His brain quickly formulated a plan. “I’ll go on a date with Arei.”

Whit beamed. “Thank you so much, Xander! You’re a lifesaver!”

“It’s nothing. When is the date planned?”

“My friend’s free for the entirety of next week. You?”

“Same. Is Friday okay?”

“Friday works great!” Whit started texting Arei again.

Today was Sunday. Xander had until Friday to come up with some sort of reasonable, last-minute reason to cancel his date with Arei. Whit wouldn’t have to face Arei’s anger this way, and Arei wouldn’t have to be angry at all. He could do this.

. . .

On Sunday night, Xander called Teruko Tawaki in his dorm. When she answered, he immediately said, “Teruko, I need you to get hurt on Friday.”

“Huh?” was Teruko’s only reply. Her voice sounded tired. He felt bad if he woke her up, but this was important.

“I need you to get hurt on Friday,” he repeated. “Your bad luck makes you get hurt, right? Can you get hurt on Friday?”

“What?” Along with the tiredness, she sounded lost and really confused. “Why do I need to get hurt?”

“Whit set me up for a blind date,” he explained. “I accidentally found out who I’m going on a blind date with, and I need to get out of it. I need you to help me come up with a legitimate excuse, so I can cancel.”

“How does me getting hurt get you out of your date?”

“If you get hurt, you can ask me to help take care of you. Then, I can cancel because my friend is hurt.”

“Why can’t you just lie?”

“Whit will ask for proof that I’m genuinely busy. If you tell him I really am busy, it should be enough proof he needs.”

Teruko sighed. “Well, I’m not getting hurt. Sorry, Xander, but I can’t just control my bad luck like that, and I’m not risking anything because you don’t want to go on a date.”

Xander was about to reply before realizing he had been rude. He just asked his friend—his first friend since coming to Hope’s Peak Academy—to risk her life with her infamous bad luck. “Oh, God. I’m sorry, Teruko. I wasn’t trying to—”

“I know. I learned fast that you don’t think before you act.” Her tone wasn’t mean. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep how you know who your blind date is a secret.”

He smiled. “Thanks, Teruko.”

The call went silent for a moment. Then, Teruko said, “If it means anything, I think you should give Arei a chance. I know you don’t get along, but—”

Xander hung up.

. . .

On Monday, Min Jeung was with Ace Markey right outside Hope’s Peak Academy when Xander approached them. “Min, can you tutor me this Friday?”

Min had a small frown. “I thought you’re doing fine in school.”

“But I want to do better,” he said. “You know, getting higher grades does help get better jobs and get a better life after school.”

“Back off, she’s tutoring already me on Friday.” Ace put a hand on his chest and straightened himself.

Despite her bangs covering her eyes, Min clearly had a judgmental look on her face. “Keep acting like that, and I’ll change my mind.”

“No, you won’t,” said Ace. “You’re being forced to.”

“It’s not my fault your grades are bad.”

“What’d you say? You want to fight?”

“Ace.” Xander knew that all he had to do was send one threatening glare towards him, and he wouldn’t have to deal with him.

Just as he thought, Ace panicked and quickly sputtered out words about how he had to go meet up with some friend. When he ran off, Min asked him, “Why do you want to get better grades?”

“Just a thought,” he answered. “I need proof that I’m busy on Friday. That way, I can cancel on Whit last-minute.”

“What did he do?” When he finished telling her the same thing he told Teruko with the addition of how Whit wanted proof before she could ask, she said, “It sounds like it’s your fault for agreeing to the blind date in the first place.”

“How was I supposed to know I was going to be on a blind date with Arei?”

“Repeat what you just said.”

Okay, she had a point.

“I don’t want to tutor anyone,” Min continued. “Not you and definitely not Ace. I have better things to do.”

“More studying?” Xander guessed.

“I don’t want to have this conversation again. I’ll see you around, Xander.” Min left in the opposite direction Ace went.

Xander wasn’t sure what Min meant. He wasn’t going to start any conversation! Yeah, he did frequently talk to her about the importance of having a life outside of school, but that was, like, once or twice. Or 25 times. But he wasn’t going to do that now, not when he really needed someone to help him be busy on Friday.

As he walked away, Xander realized that he didn’t tell Min to keep how he knew his blind date was Arei a secret. Ace ran off before he could tell him, so he didn’t have to worry about him. He supposed he had to rely on Min not liking to talk.

. . .

On Tuesday, Xander found Nico Hakobyan and Eden Tobisa walking through the hallways of Hope’s Peak Academy together. Xander was specifically looking for Nico, and once finding them, he said, “Nico, do you need any help at the animal shelter on Friday?”

Nico came to Hope’s Peak Academy as the Ultimate Pet Therapist. Most of their free time was spent with animals, some of it being at a local animal shelter. No one who worked at the animal shelter complained about them coming because they received special help and publicity for an Ultimate student helping often. It helped how they sometimes brought some of their classmates with them.

“We’re pretty full on volunteers and staff, so I don’t think so,” Nico answered, confusion clear in their voice. “Why are you asking?”

Xander filled them in on what happened. Nico still looked a bit confused, but Eden said, “You shouldn’t run away from Arei. She’s a nice girl once you get to know her!”

“I have tried to get to know her,” he argued. “Every time I try, we end up almost in a fight.”

Nico tugged at their black scarf. “You’ve barely talked to her since school started. You couldn’t put in that much effort.”

“Excuse me?”

Nico’s red eyes widened, and they lifted their scarf over their face.

Eden filled in their silence. “I think they’re saying that you should try to put more effort than usually, you know? It is a date after all. You have to impress her!”

“But I don’t want to go on that date.”

“It’s only for a few hours. You’ll be okay!” She flashed him a reassuring smile.

Too bad he didn’t feel reassured. “Nico, are you sure you don’t need any help on Friday? For anything?”

Nico lowered their scarf just enough to look at him. “No...”

“Eden?”

Eden shook her head. “Maybe it’s a good thing that we’re both busy. Like, maybe you’re meant to go on that date with—”

“Thanks for trying to help,” Xander interrupted. “Can you keep this whole conversation a secret?”

“Of course!” Eden said at the same time Nico said, “I’ll probably forget about this in an hour or two anyway.”

Xander said his farewell before leaving. Friday was coming up way too fast.

. . .

On Wednesday, Rose Lacroix and David Chiem were about to leave Hope’s Peak Academy’s campus when Xander came up to them. “Rose, you’re an artist, right? Are you doing something on Friday? Can you give me a painting lesson or something like that?”

Rose looked around them. “Is this because of your date with Arei?”

He froze. “How do you know that?”

“Oh, are you dating Arei?” David had his perfect smile he often used during his inspirational speeches. “Congratulations, Xander! I hope you two have the best of luck in your relationship!”

Any slight annoyance he would’ve felt if anyone other than David told him that never came to be. “W-We’re not dating...”

He blinked. “You’re not? Then, Rose, what were you talking about?”

“I heard him talking about it with Nico and Eden,” she explained. “Yesterday, I was going to my next class when I heard overheard them. Whit set him up on a blind date with Arei, and now he’s trying to get out of it. He needs proof that he’s busy on Friday, and he thinks someone saying that they suddenly needed him for something would be enough proof. I didn’t mean to listen in on it,” she added for Xander.

He smiled, but it felt weaker than he’d like. “That’s okay. Just please don’t tell Arei or Whit. Both of you.”

“We won’t tell a soul. Won’t we, Rose?” David nudged her arm with his elbow.

Rose rubbed one of her eyes. “Xander, why are you here again?”

“Xander has a date with Arei he’s trying to cancel.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m free on Friday,” Rose started, “but isn’t it mean to ditch your date with Arei?”

“Arei would feel the same way,” Xander argued. “You know how we act together.”

“Still, this is a chance to fix that,” replied David, placing a hand on his chest. “I know how your relationship with her—”

“Rose, is that a yes or a no?” Xander always loved to listen to David’s speeches, especially since he was the Ultimate Inspirational Speaker, but he couldn’t right now. Time was against him, and if he listened to David, he would probably go with what he said.

“I don’t think so...” She yawned. “I think I might just take a nap on Friday.”

“The entire Friday evening?”

She nodded. “Then, I’ll go to sleep.”

“That sounds relaxing,” said David.

He would ask what the point of taking a nap before sleeping was, but from the corner of his eye, he saw Arei. Quickly, he said, “Thanks for answering, Rose. Bye, David, bye, Rose!”

Xander left David and Rose before they could respond. He hoped Arei didn’t notice their conversation.

. . .

On Thursday, Xander had to use his final card. It was the final day before his blind date with Arei, and time was quickly running out. He had to find her.

Before classes started for the day, Xander looked around Hope’s Peak Academy. After a few minutes, he found Veronika Grebenshchikova with Arturo Giles and Levi Fontana. He had pepared himself for this moment since his failed attempt with Rose, so he approached them with the most relaxed look he could manage. When he got their attention, he asked, “Veronika, there’s a new horror movie coming out on Friday, right? I heard you talking about it.”

True to her nature as the Ultimate Horror Fanatic, Veronika’s eyes sparkled. “There is! I would go”—her eyes darkened with disappointment—“but I already spent all my money on the book series it’s based on...”

“I told her not to do it,” sighed Levi.

“Why do you try?” asked Arturo. “We all know she won’t listen.”

“Veronika,” started Xander, trying to keep his smile relaxed, “how about we go to see the movie together? I’ll pay.”

While Levi and Arturo stared at him in shock and confusion—no one should want to see a horror movie with the Ultimate Horror Fanatic—Veronika’s entire face brightened. “You will? Actually? This is one of the best things I’ve ever heard! I can tell you everything about the movie! When it started production, why it started production, why the cast was chosen... I can go into the story too! I can tell you about it now! It starts when—”

“Oh, he’s doing this because of Arei,” interrupted Arturo while rolling his eyes.

“What do you mean?” asked Levi.

“Whit set him up on a blind date on Friday, and he accidentally found out his blind date is Arei. Now, he’s trying to get out of it.”

Veronika’s face fell. “So, you don’t actually want to watch the movie...”

Xander had to ignore Veronika to talk to Arturo. “Who told you that?”

“I overheard Rose mentioning it to Ace,” answered Arturo. “David was with her and reminded her about keeping it a secret. Rose said you only told her not to tell Arei or Whit, then realized you probably meant not telling anyone. David convinced Ace to keep it a secret, but I didn’t promise anything.”

Xander sighed. “You guys can’t tell anyone else.”

“I can do that,” said Levi.

Arturo scoffed. “I can’t.”

“You said you wanted to go to see the movie with me,” mumbled Veronika.

“Veronika, I can get you Ace and maybe Min to go watch the movie with you. I’ll pay for all your tickets—and more tickets, if you get other people to come with you.” He could probably scare Ace into doing it, and a little convincing could get Min. It would do her good to spend time with her classmates on a Friday evening instead of locked up in her dorm studying. “Arturo, I can, umm...”

He couldn’t think of anything to convince him, but Veronika was happy enough to say, “I can take Arturo with me as thanks for paying for the tickets! Horror movies are always so much more fun to watch with other people!”

Arturo’s eyes widened. Everyone in their class knew how he and Ace were Veronika’s two main victims. “I didn’t agree to this...!”

“Since that’s settled...” Levi turned to him. “Xander, you should—”

Xander sighed. “If you tell me that I should give Arei a chance, please don’t. That would be my third time hearing that...”

“Isn’t that a sign that you should give in, then? It might be fun.”

“No, it won’t. Maybe if it was someone other me going on the date with her. Or the other way around. Just not us together...”

“You sound so pessimistic...” Levi offered him a small smile.

Xander tried to return it, but he had no such luck. He was about to leave when an all-too familiar voice asked, “What are you guys talking about?”

Arei appeared beside Levi. She had that smile that made him think that she was planning something. Everything suddenly felt uncomfortable.

Veronika was the one to answer. “I was telling Arturo about the movie we’re going to see on Friday with Ace and maybe Min!”

It was clear that Arturo was scowling behind his mask. “I didn’t—”

“Wow, Min? Doesn’t she only study?” Arei’s eyes seemed to scan her to see if she was telling the truth. “Horror movie, right?”

“Yes! It’s about—”

“Cool, cool, yeah, whatever.”

Veronika had a small frown at being interrupted. Meanwhile, Levi asked, “Arei, are you doing anything on Friday? I have some clothes I bought that I was trying to figure out what to do with, but now that you’re here, I realized they could work well with you.”

Her cunning smile was replaced with a neutral expression, but Xander could see how her eyes were slightly bigger than before. “Really? I am going on a blind date tomorrow, so I guess new clothes will be good.”

Levi smiled as Veronika and Arturo shared a look between them before looking at Xander. As the Ultimate Personal Stylist, there was no doubt that Levi would have fun choosing a fitting outfit for Arei. “Great. Come by my dorm after school. I’ll show them to you, and we can figure out what to have you wear. You can keep it after the date too, by the way.”

“I’ll remember that!” Arei’s gaze fell on Xander. “You know, Xander, you’re really quiet right now. Aren’t you supposed to be yelling about something?”

“I was going to leave now.” Xander didn’t like how quiet his voice was.

“Uhh, okay?” Arei’s skeptical blue eyes were the last thing Xander saw before making his escape.

. . .

On Friday morning, Xander called J Rosales. She was with Hu Jing right now, so J put it on speaker for him to be able to talk to both of them.

“J, how do you successfully fake being sick?” Xander asked.

“Why are you asking me?” she asked.

“You seem like someone who could always fake being sick.”

“Huh?” Her voice raised as she demanded, “What kind of impression do you have about me?”

Hu’s quieter and calmer voice came in to say, “J, just yesterday, you faked being sick so you didn’t have to meet people to work on a project because, as you said, they were just going to mess around while you did all the work. You did it last week and two weeks before that, too.”

“That was three times!” argued J.

“It’s still enough to prove Xander’s point,” pointed out Hu.

“Can you just tell me?” Xander asked before the conversation could get out of hand.

“I’m not helping you get out of your date with Arei,” J told him.

“You should go through with it, Xander,” added Hu. “I think you two could have fun together.”

He sighed. “Who did you guys overhear it from?”

“No one,” answered Hu. “Everyone in our class knows how you were going around and trying to find a way to be busy this evening. Well, everyone except I think Whit and Arei. Before this call, the only people you haven’t asked for help from were Charles, J, and I. The three of us were talking about it yesterday, and after realizing Arei’s blind date, which she’s been talking about her these last few days, is at the same time you’ve been asking people to do something with you, it wasn’t hard to put it together.”

Xander didn’t reply. Was he really that obvious? Now that he thought about it, he did go to basically everyone in his class, but he thought he was a little sneaky about it.

“We’re not going to help you get out of the date,” continued Hu, “but if you want help, you can ask us.”

J’s voice grew quieter, probably caused by her moving away from her phone. “What are we helping him with?”

“You know, the usual things you help people do for first dates.” Hu’s voice was quieter, probably caused by the same reason as J’s, before it returned to its previous volume. “Do you need help with anything, Xander? Do you know what you’re wearing? I know we’re not Levi, but I think we could help you pick a decent outfit.”

“Since when did we become personal stylists?” J asked.

“Since now, if he agrees to our help.”

Xander realized he couldn’t get out of this. It was Friday morning, and his date was this evening. Even if Arei was the last person he would want to go on a date with, he had to go through with it. He could always cancel without anything else to do, but he couldn’t have Whit go through Arei’s anger. With a sigh, he reluctantly said, “A little help would be nice...”

“Great!” He could hear the smile in Hu’s voice. “J, I’m turning this into a video call so we can see his outfit.”

“Hey, it’s my phone!” After some rustling, the call ended. A few seconds later, J called him again but as a video call.

Xander answered it. It wasn’t like he could go against it anymore.

. . .

Before Xander left his dorm, Whit sent him a text telling him what his “blind” date was wearing. He also gave a tip about her hair colour to make it even easier to find her, so Xander was sure Whit didn’t know about his attempts. Or, maybe he did know but was pretending not to.

After some debate from Hu and J—the latter more interested than she let on—Xander had his outfit of a black sweater over a white shirt. They agreed on easily on that as it was getting colder in the evening, but they got into a debate on whether he should wear a cross body bag for no reason other than to look nice. J thought it was pointless to wear a bag if he wasn’t going to put anything in it, and she thought fanny bags were stupid enough around the waist and didn’t need to be put across your body, but Hu told her that sometimes, fashion didn’t make sense, and she thought cross body bags were nice. In the end, J agreed only if he carried some stuff, which included his phone, his keys, and some money. He had to say that he had fun watching them debate on what clothes would work the best, but now that he had to wear it, he would rather have this outfit just to save it for another day.

When 6:00 P.M. neared, Xander went to the bowling alley. He was supposed to meet up with Arei outside the building, and he found her too fast. She was standing near the front doors on her phone with her hair down in a black shirt over a white one. Like him, she had a bag, although hers was a dark blue canteen bag. She had two belts over her denim skirt, and while he questioned why Levi would let her wear a short skirt when it was getting cold, she did look like a model for the Ultimate Personal Stylist.

She didn’t notice him. He could probably make a run for it while he still could, but then she would think her blind date ditched her. Everyone already knew he was supposed to be her blind date, and that could cause a lot more trouble than needed.

Xander took in a deep breath, steeled his nerves—why was this harder than asking Veronika to watch a horror movie with him?—and went to her.

When Arei heard him calling her name, her head turned towards him. It took her a few seconds to realize why he was here. When she did, she asked, “Why did Whit set you up with me?”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been wondering.” For the last six days, he finished in his head.

They stared at each other for a second. Then, Arei shrugged and said, “We might as well do what Whit planned. He had to spend his own money on this because I got friend discount, you know.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Xander tried to put on a smile.

The bowling alley Whit chose was bigger on the inside than the outside. There were lots of bowling lanes, and each one seemed to have purple lights shining down on them. Meanwhile, the sitting area was lit with a dark yellow light, and each lane had two tables of four to sit at. Bowling balls of all sorts of colours waited to be used as other players played each other.

Now that he was inside, Xander was hit was an obvious realization he should’ve made when he first found out who his blind date was: Of course Arei was going to want to go to a bowling alley when she came to Hope’s Peak Academy as the Ultimate Bowler.

Arei looked immediately at home as they changed into bowling shoes. She actually looked excited to be here. The way her eyes reflected the lights of the building was fascinating, he had to admit, but he wasn’t sure why she wanted to be here. She knew she would beat whoever was her blind date. It was a lost cause to even try to compete against her.

As they headed to their lane, Xander decided it was better to not make a fool of himself and said, “I’ve never gone bowling before. How does this work?”

“You never went bowling?” Arei studied his face before having a confident smile. “Luckily for you, you have the best of the best! I’ll teach you how to bowl!”

When they arrived, the first thing Arei asked was, “How much do you weigh?”

He frowned, blinking a few times. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Because before we can bowl, we need to find you a ball that’s the right weight and size. I know you’re crazy strong and can work with any ball, but we still need to deal with your fingers. Plus, a general rule is your ball weighs 10% as much as you. So, how much do you weigh?”

“Well... I weigh 170 pounds, last time I checked.”

“Then you need a ball that’s 17 pounds.” Arei picked up one of the bowling balls waiting for them with 17 written on it, and she was about to hand it to him before saying, “Oh, you’ve probably never held a bowling ball before.”

“I haven’t,” Xander confirmed, looking away from her face. Why did he feel self-conscious about this?

“I gotta help you with this one too.” She turned the ball, so the holes were facing his fingers. “Are you a lefty or a righty?”

“Righty.”

“Put your thumb in the bottom hole and your middle and ring finger in the other two.” When he followed her instructions, she inspected it. “The holes are too big for your fingers. You need a different one.”

“Is it a problem if it’s too big?”

Her eyes flashed. “What, are you going to ignore everything I say? I’m trying to help you, but you’re just gonna do your own thing?”

This was exactly what Xander was trying to avoid. Something like this happened a lot whenever they were left to themselves. However, after almost a week of begging his classmates to do something with him today, he didn’t have the energy to argue back. “No, I won’t. I’m sorry.”

A beat of silence passed. After it, Arei kept her eyes on the ball and said quieter, “Your fingers are meant to slide into the holes smoothly. If it’s too small, you can’t even put your fingers in, and if it’s too big, you’ll have a hard time controlling the ball. Control is important in bowling, just like in other sports. So...if you want to at least be decent, you should take the time to find a good ball.”

Xander had never heard her use a voice like that before, even after being classmates for months now. He had to remind himself that he had to answer. “Okay. I’ll look for one. But, umm... Can you help?”

Arei agreed, and they tried multiple different balls. When they finally found one he could hold comfortably, she said, “Hold the ball a little to your side and put your left hand on the bottom side. Keep your thumb at 10:00 position.”

“What...?”

She sighed, but she took hold of his hands and helped put them where they were supposed to be. Her hands were softer than he thought they would be. When she was done, she said, “Remember two things. First, this is how you’re going to hold the ball when it’s your turn to play. Second, this is your ball. You can use other balls like this, but this one’s perfect. Remember how it looks like, and when it comes back, use it as often as you can. This is your lucky ball for today.”

“Is that a thing for bowlers?” Xander asked.

“It is for me.” She went to look for a ball that fitted her.

He decided to listen to her and tried to remember how the bowling ball looked. It was blue. The same shade of blue as Arei’s eyes. He could remember this.

Arei found her ball much faster than he did. Hers was a yellow ball with the number 13 written on it. “I’ll go first so I can tell you how it works.”

Xander sat on the chair closest to their bowling lane. Arei pointed to a line on the ground and said, “That’s the foul line. You know how bowlers approach this line, right?”

“I’ve seen it online before.”

“Then you already saw the standard approach. It’s where you stand with your back straight, your shoulder centred at your target, and your knees bent a little. Whatever hand has the bowling ball should be at your side. Oh, and your back tilted forward, but not a lot. Your feet should be apart, and your slide foot—opposite of your bowling hand—should be in front of the other. Am I making sense?”

“A little...” There were a lot of words and a lot of people bowling around them. It was hard to pay attention to just her.

“Are you a visual learner?”

“I am.”

“I’ll show you instead of talking. It’s too much work talking anyway. Ugh, but I still have to explain to you the terms.” Despite her words, she didn’t sound annoyed. “You get to roll the ball two times a frame—two times a turn—so if you knock all the pins down on both rolls, that’s a spare. Like this.”

Arei threw the bowling ball down the bowling lane. It hit several of the bowling pins but left a couple. She picked a new bowling ball and threw it down the bowling lane again. It hit the rest.

Xander clapped as the final bowling pins went down. His clapping was stopped when he caught her look towards him. He couldn’t read her emotions, but he remembered that she was the Ultimate Bowler. She was used to doing amazing at bowling and didn’t need him to applaud.

Arei turned her head towards the TV screen above their bowling lane. It lane now had a score for Arei: 3/ over 13. “The upper left of each frame is to record the first ball,” she explained. “The box to the left is the second ball. I don’t wanna teach scoring, especially if this is automatic, so just know that spares are marked with that slash, and a strike is marked with an X.”

“Strikes are where you hit all the bowling pins at once, right?”

“I guess you’re not totally hopeless when it comes to bowling.”

“I’m not stupid...” Xander heard light laughter coming from her, so he decided today would be an okay day to be laughed at by her for just this once. Doing anything about it required determination he didn’t have.

“It’s your turn,” she said, taking a seat at the table he was at. She rummaged through her bag.

Xander held his bowling ball the way she taught him too. When the bowling ball went out of his hands, it rolled into the gutter. He decided not to look at Arei.

When he picked up his next bowling ball—admittedly taking a longer time than Arei—he was about to go again when Arei said, “Xander, you see the dots and the black arrows? Aim the ball in the centre of them.”

He decided to take her word for it and tried aiming as she said. When this ball rolled, it hit several of the pins and knocked them over.

While more pins were being added for the next frame, he turned to Arei with a smile. “I did it!”

“I know. I saw.” She smiled. “I’m a great coach.”

“Don’t get cocky.”

“I’m not cocky if it’s a fact!” She gave him a bottle that wasn’t on the table before—something he assumed to be from her bag. “Here.”

He took it, but he still asked, “What is this?”

“Rosin. It makes your fingers and thumb a little tacky and less slippery. You always have to wipe your hands after your turn’s over. If your hands are sweaty, the ball can slip out of your hands. A handkerchief or just wiping your hands on your clothes work, but I’m a professional, so we’re going to do this professionally.”

“Do hands get slippery when you play blowing?”

“If you have sweaty hands.” Arei found the yellow ball she was using in her last frame and turned towards him. “I told you to aim on your last frame. The marks help beginner bowlers a lot. I used them when I first started, but then I realized I was already way too good for them. They’re there to help you hit the pins, but your ball can slow down or roll towards the gutters. You just have to keep adjusting your aim.

“Also, you see the bowling pin closest to us?” She pointed at the bowling pin stationed at the front. “That’s called the ‘headpin.’ The marks are there to help you aim for that and a pin next to it. If you get that, then you can knock down most of the pins and raise your chance of getting a strike. But, if you only hit the headpin, you might get a split.”

“What’s a ‘split?’” Xander asked.

“When the first ball knocks the headpin and leaves two or more pins on opposite sides. They’re the worst, and it’s hard to hit a spare with splits. It’s worse if you have a 7-10 split. They’re the two pins way in the back. I’ll show you one.”

Arei rolled the ball down the bowling lane and knocked the headpin down. Other bowling pins went down with it, but two in the back on either side remained. A 7-10 split, if she did what she said earlier. When she went for her second ball, it rolled through and knocked both of them out. The sound of both pins knocking themselves over as the TV updated the score made the fact that the Ultimate Bowler was really bowling right now hit him.

“You’re really good at bowling,” Xander told her as she put rosin on her hands.

“Duh,” she responded. “I’m the Ultimate Bowler.”

“I know. But it’s still amazing to see how you can just”—his hands moved around as he paused, trying to look for the right word—“decide what you want the pins and the balls to do. It looks so easy and natural for you. I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s just so interesting to watch.”

Arei’s bottle of rosin remained opened because of her hands stopping before she could close it. Her attention was on him, and once again, he couldn’t read her face. Her eyes were looking at his, and he wasn’t sure if he should look away.

It was over in a moment when she turned her head away and closed the bottle of rosin. “Whatever. It’s your turn—and don’t you dare fail me as your teacher.”

The rest of their bowling game went smoothly. Arei helped him when he needed it, and Xander got to listen to see her look comfortable with what she was doing. She gave him tips throughout the game, such as focusing on the marks and not the bowling pins, and as it went on, she was more willing to explain why he should listen, other than how the Ultimate Bowler was telling him to do it. When the game ended, it was no surprise that Arei won, but what was surprising was that going bowling with Arei was actually kind of fun. They only got into a brief argument once when first trying to find a ball, but other than that, it was just Xander learning how to bowl with Arei being more helpful than he’d ever seen.

Was this really what he was trying so hard to avoid?

After the first match, they decided to play another one where Xander would try bowling without Arei’s help. Again, Arei won with 300 points—the highest score a bowler can get, apparently—and another game started, this time Arei switching between helping him and not. Before they knew it, two hours had passed. When they noticed it, they left the bowling alley and started heading to the ice cream parlour. The one Whit chose was close enough to the bowling alley to walk, but it was still quite far. He must’ve chosen that one on purpose to get them to talk to pass the time.

Because of that, Xander decided to say, “Arei, there’s been one question on my mind since this date started.”

“What’s up?” she asked.

“Why are you wearing a skirt in this weather?” As if to help prove his point, a chilly breeze went by.

Arei looked at him like the answer was obvious. She gestured to her outfit. “Because I look nice.”

“Weren’t there any other outfits Levi had?” he continued. There was no way the Ultimate Personal Stylist wouldn’t have better clothes that fit her and the weather.

“There were,” she admitted, “but this one’s my favourite. I got to keep the outfit he gave me, so I had to pick the one I liked the best. He tried to get me to wear pants, but this goes better with the skirt, right?”

Xander tried to imagine how she would look wearing pants instead of a skirt. “I think you would look fine either way.”

“That was supposed to be you agreeing with me,” Arei said.

“I don’t even know how the pants looked.”

“It’s like this skirt but as pants.”

“I still think you’d look fine.”

“You’re supposed to call me pretty too.”

“What? I feel like this is some sort of trick...”

“It is. I’d point out how you don’t know exactly how I’d look wearing jeans and make you feel bad.”

“It’s not going to work now that you said so.”

“I know. I’m trying to be nice. You don’t have to tell me that I’m already the nicest person ever.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

Their conversation didn’t have any hint of anger or annoyance. Maybe it was the bowling, or maybe it was how it was getting late, but talking to her like this felt comfortable. Easy. Like this was how it was always meant to be. Xander wasn’t sure what to think of it, but he could get used to it.

When they arrived at the ice cream parlour arena, they found that there were quite a few costumers despite it getting late and the semi-cold weather. The white walls looked pink due to the lighting, and the floor was checkered. Small tables lined against the windows where some people were talking amongst themselves.

Xander and Arei went to look at the ice cream offered. Xander felt a bit intimidated by the number of options they had, but Arei’s eyes were immediately drawn to one of them. The side of her body pressed slightly against his as she pointed to one of the flavours. “They have cherry chip!”

“They have what?” His eyes found what she was pointing to. It looked to be cherry-flavoured ice cream with chocolate bits inside. “Is that your favourite flavour?”

“Yep. Chocolate tastes kind of bad on its own, but it tastes so much better when it’s with ice cream!”

“Why cherry?”

“Cherry’s the best flavour, even if it doesn’t have the chocolate bits. Chocolate tastes worse with other flavours.”

“That’s a...unique flavour to like,” Xander said.

“Only because it’s found, like, nowhere. If it was more popular, more people would like it. Instead, they have to stick to mint.”

“What’s wrong with mint?”

“It’s the worst thing to ever exist. It’s bad enough that it exists as food or whatever, and it was worse when it became a flavour for gum and stuff, but now you made it into ice cream too? Everything is ruined with it! It should be illegal to have mint exist!”

“That’s just stupid. Mint’s just a flavour.”

“Oh, I bet you like mint. One of those mint lovers.”

Mint was always an okay flavour to him, but right now, he said, “I do like mint.”

“I should’ve known.” Her blue eyes that were narrowed relaxed for a bit when she said, “I thought your favourite flavour was vanilla, though. You look like someone who’d like vanilla.”

Vanilla was his favourite flavour, but for now, he said, “Well, it’s not.”

“So, what, are you going to order mint chip?”

Looking at the flavours the ice cream parlour offered, Xander noticed that there was an option to just have mint with no chocolate bits in it. “I’ll order just mint.”

“Just mint?” Arei found the flavour he saw and immediately cringed. “That’s even worse! At least mint chip has the chocolate to try to distract you from the mint! Why would anyone want just mint?”

Xander had a satisfied smile watching her disgust. He never thought she would be someone who hated mint so much, but the thought of a reaction like this was the reason he chose that flavour in the first place. Now that he was seeing it, it was kind of cute.

Once they ordered their ice cream, Arei wanted to sit outside on a bench. Xander thought that was a bad idea with how exposed her legs were, but she insisted. They found themselves sitting on a bench not too far from the ice cream parlour with the ice cream they ordered. Just as Xander thought, it was getting colder, and more wind was starting to pick up. He waited for her to say something.

He even counted. 75 seconds passed before Arei finally said, “I probably should’ve worn pants...”

“You should’ve worn pants,” Xander corrected. “Do you want to eat inside the parlour?”

“But we already left. It’ll be weird if we go back inside with our orders.”

“Why do you care about being weird?”

“Because some people have reputations they have to keep up. I get that you’re the Ultimate Rebel and don’t care how people see you—”

“I care about how people see me.”

“Not enough to not be seen as a weirdo. You have the title of Ultimate Rebel. That’s, like, the definition of ‘weird.’” After a second, she added, “But I guess it could be weirder.”

Xander continued eating his mint ice cream in silence. Going strictly off of Whit’s plan, the “blind” date was coming to an end. Now that he experienced it, he wasn’t sure what he was so scared of. Looking back it his attempts, he was a little embarrassed at how desperate he was to do something—anything—to avoid this. It was all calmer than he thought it would be. If he was being honest, he wouldn’t mind going through it again.

“Xander?” Arei’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Why’d you agree to go on a blind date?”

“Whit asked me if he could set me up,” Xander answered. “After saying it was a blind date with his friend, he told me his plan for the date. It sounded interesting, so I decided to give it a shot. You were the one who asked him for a date, though. Why?”

She seemed hesitant to answer. Eventually, she said without looking at him, “We’re in a world where marriage is, like, a must. If you get married, you get bonuses single people don’t have, and everyone around you is getting into serious relationships and talking about settling down one day and stuff. Plus, some people are starting to ask, ‘When are you going to get married?’ like I’m not still in college. I know we’re all still pretty young, but it still feels weird when I haven’t even been on a date before. So, I asked Whit if he could help set me up...”

“To fit in?” She didn’t answer, but Xander assumed he was correct anyway. “Well, did you have fun?”

“It wasn’t that bad.” He assumed that was Arei for “yes.” “I thought I’d be set up with someone who doesn’t go to Hope’s Peak, so I’d get to show off my amazing bowling skills, but instead, I got set up with someone who does go to Hope’s Peak and already knows how awesome I am. That ruined my plan.”

“You still showed your skills. And yes, I knew you were great, but I didn’t realize how great until tonight.” He didn’t let himself praise her any further. He remembered the look she gave him after clapping for her.

She turned the ice cream cone around in her hands. “Yeah, but I also got stuck teaching you how to bowl.”

“You didn’t have to,” he pointed out.

“But if I didn’t, I’d get a headache watching you and decide we can’t bowl anymore. I’ve been bowling with people who never went bowling before. I know how it goes.” She sneaked a glance at him. “But you weren’t that bad for a beginner. Better than other beginner bowlers I’ve seen, at least.”

A smile came to him before he could stop it. “Thanks, Arei.”

“Yeah, whatever, don’t think about it.” Arei went back to eating her ice cream.

Xander decided to let it go and finish his ice cream. When they were both done, they were technically as far as Whit planned. He knew that he didn’t want things to be awkward now like Whit’s loose planning was the only thing keeping the date floating, so when Arei finished her ice cream, he said, “I had fun.”

“Even though you kept losing at bowling?” Arei replied. Her voice wasn’t teasing nor did it sound annoyed.

“You’re the Ultimate Bowler,” Xander said with a light chuckle. “It’s hopeless to go against you.”

A smile formed on her face. “Yeah, it is.”

“Still, it was fun. Even if you hate mint for no good reason.”

“I hate mint for lots of good reasons!” Arei glared at him as he laughed. When he was done, he noticed that the expression on her face wasn’t as angry anymore. It looked to be more shy. She looked to be more shy with how she avoided looking at him and was fiddling with her bag. Even her voice seemed shy as she said, “It was fun, though...”

Xander didn’t reply. Since when was Arei Nageishi capable of acting like that, and why did he actually kind of like it?

“Do you... You know...” She gestured around them. She didn’t finish her sentence and looked at him like it was obvious what she was trying to say. It was, but the way she didn’t want to say it because of what he thought was embarrassment was endearing.

“We can go on another date,” Xander said. “But how about we plan it instead of Whit?”

His answer made her shoulders visibly relax. “We can do that. But give me your number. I don’t think I have it.”

After they exchanged numbers, Arei said, “Xander, umm... Thanks for just, you know...coming to the date.”

“You make it sound like it’s a big deal,” Xander responded. “Did you think I wouldn’t come?”

“Kind of. You arrived late, you know.”

“What? No, I arrived on time.”

The topic change made her words flow easier. “I was on my phone when you arrived. I was checking the time. You arrived at 6:01 P.M. That’s late.”

“By one minute!”

“Still late. Next time, you better arrive on time.”

Xander had a lot of things he had to change for next time. The memories of the last few days crashed down on him, and it suddenly felt weird to be standing in front of Arei when she didn’t know about them. He appreciated his classmates’ efforts to not tell her or Whit, but he didn’t know if he could trust them enough to keep the last few days a secret for long. Someone was going to tell her sooner or later, and it was probably best if that “someone” was him. “Arei, I have a confession to make.”

“What, did you murder someone?”

“No, but... You know how Whit set us up?”

“What about it?”

“Me and Whit were at a coffee shop when he brought it up. When I agreed, he sent you a text telling you that we were going to have our blind date. We didn’t have our order, and when it was called, Whit went to get it. He left his phone on the table, and the screen was still on. I... Curiosity got the best of me, and I saw you were my blind date.”

Arei stayed silent, her face unreadable. Xander felt a little scared for what would come out of her mouth. Would she be angry? Probably. Scream? Maybe not. But there definitely wasn’t going to be a next date anymore.

After long, agonizing seconds, she asked, “Why did you still come?”

“Because no one would help me be busy today. I went around asking everyone except Charles and Ace—I missed talking to Charles, and Ace ran away before I could ask him—to help me get proof for Whit that I have a good reason to cancel. Everyone was either busy or didn’t want to. So, I was forced to go.”

“You could’ve lied and said something came up when nothing did.”

“Everyone already knows what was happening today, though. Plus, I was worried that you would get upset and drag Whit into your emotions.”

Arei didn’t reply. He still couldn’t read her face. The seconds went by, and Xander felt more and more uncomfortable. He wanted her to say something , anything to let him know how she felt about this. The emotionless face she had made him feel too uneasy.

After what felt like an eternity, Arei said, “It was probably funny how you went around begging people to do something with you. You probably looked like a friendless loser.”

Xander would’ve tried to defend himself, but he asked, “You’re not upset?”

“I mean, I am, but now that I think about it, I probably would’ve done the same if I were you. You’re one of the last people I’d choose to go on a date with. Except I wouldn’t be a friendless loser and would actually get the job done.”

“Funny.” After a second, he asked, “So...we’re still good?”

“Obviously,” Arei answered. “I’ll text you in a few days if you want to go on another date.”

“Didn’t we just go on one?” Xander replied.

“Yeah, but I don’t know how many dates people are supposed to go on.”

“Neither do I, but isn’t this a little fast?”

“I don’t know, how fast are people usually when it comes to dating?”

Xander’s silence was his answer. Arei broke it by saying, “I’ll just ask Whit for help.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Xander agreed.

. . .

On Saturday, Xander and Whit sat at the same coffee shop they were at almost a week ago when Whit first set up the blind date. This time, they had their orders, and Whit had brought Charles Cuevas with him.

“How did your date with Arei go?” Whit asked Xander.

“Didn’t she already tell you?” asked Xander.

“She did,” admitted Whit, “but I like hearing both sides of the date. So, how did it go?”

He smiled. “It went great! Me and Arei got along better than I thought, and it was genuinely a fun time. Did she tell you how we agreed to go on another date?”

“She did!” Whit exclaimed. “I’m glad you guys enjoyed it! I was kind of scared something would happen and questioned if you two were the right pair, but I trusted my gut, and it was right!”

“You’re the Ultimate Matchmaker,” reminded Charles.

“It still feels good to know that I helped another couple!” Whit’s smile softened. “Xander, I wish you and Arei the best of luck.”

Xander’s face felt a little warmer. “We’re not an official couple or anything...”

“I’m still wishing you good luck!”

Charles sighed, his eyes meeting Xander’s. “So, was almost the entirety of last week worth it?”

“No,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t have done all that if I knew it was actually going to be fun.”

“I was told Teruko, Eden, Hu, Rose, David, and Levi said you should go. Whit too, if you include him. That’s almost half of our classmates.”

“They just said I should go, not that it was going to be fun...”

“What happened last week?” Whit looked between the two of them, leaning forward in his chair a bit.

Charles continued to look at Xander. “Do you want to explain, or should I? You never even came up to me, but I already know the whole story because everyone talked about it yesterday while you were having your date.”

“You were?” Xander asked as Whit said, “Who’s ‘everyone?’”

“I guess I’ll explain.” He finally looked over to Whit. “Xander gave Veronika money to buy tickets to go see a new horror movie. Only Arturo and Ace were meant to come, but Levi wanted to come to help them. Levi knew Min might go, so he tried to get her. She didn’t want to, but Eden was with her and tried to convince her with Levi. Min only agreed to go if Eden went with her, and when the animal shelter Nico volunteered at was closed for the day because of a pipe breaking, she invited them so they would do something with humans instead of animals. Nico didn’t feel comfortable watching a horror movie with the people already there, so they brought Rose. Rose was planning to take a nap the entire afternoon, but David said that she needed to go to help Nico, so he came to help her stay awake. David mentioned it to Hu, and Hu thought it was a great idea that so many of us were going to see a movie together that she invited herself and J. J and Veronika realized it was basically everyone in our class going, so she had J call Teruko to invite her and ask her to invite me on Veronika’s behalf, since J doesn’t have my number. Teruko called me and told me how three people seeing a movie turned into 13.”

Xander should’ve realized that 13 tickets was a suspicious number of people. His date made him ignore how weird it was that Veronika managed to get 12 other people to watch a horror movie with her when she told him how much money she needed.

“Wait, how come I wasn’t invited?” asked Whit.

“I’m getting to that. We all went to the movie theatre and got our snacks if we wanted any. Veronika realized you weren’t here, Whit, and asked if no one invited you. I told her that you were always on standby in case something went wrong in a date you set up, and Rose asked if Xander’s date with Arei actually happened. Some people were surprised that more than a couple people if any knew about the date, and it turned out that no one except Hu, J, and I realized that Xander was going around and asking everyone to do something with him so he could avoid his blind date with Arei. Until the movie started, it was just us talking about what Xander wanted to do to have proof he had a legitimate reason to cancel his date. I have to admit, that was a nice conversation, mainly because we were all making fun of Xander.”

“I’m right here...”

“I know.”

Whit’s eyebrows furrowed together. “But, wait, Xander, how did you find out Arei was your blind date?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled nervously. “When you texted Arei about how I agreed, you left your phone on the table when our order was called. Your phone was still on, and I checked to see who my blind date was before I could stop myself. I found out it was Arei, and...everything that Charles said happened after that, basically.”

“So that’s why you suddenly didn’t want to go on the blind date anymore when I got back...” Whit sighed. “I don’t know what to be sad about, me accidentally leaving my phone here and ruining the thrill of blind dates or no one inviting me to watch a movie with basically our whole class.”

“You’re always on standby on the day your client has a date you set up,” reminded Charles. “You told me that.”

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t want an invitation!”

“I knew you were going to say no, so there was no point. Besides, you should be happy you didn’t see the movie. No one except Veronika wanted to talk after watching it...” Charles shuddered and muttered something about how a psychological horror with no gore or anything a typical horror movie had shouldn’t have been the scariest thing he had ever seen.

“Next time, I guess...” Whit had a small smile at Xander. “At least one of us had fun on Friday.”

Xander smiled back.

“And you”—Whit’s face became as serious as someone like him could make it—“after saying this, I’m not going to talk to you until you give me a sincere apology for not inviting me.”

Charles frowned. “Why?”

Whit turned his body away from him, crossing his arms.

“You didn’t give him an invitation, and he’s upset,” Xander answered for him.

“He was going to say no,” argued Charles. “What was the point of wasting my time asking him?”

“Even if he was going to say no, it’s the thought that matters. Plus, everyone was taking one extra person with them. You were supposed to at least ask Whit even if he wouldn’t come.”

“I didn’t know that! I’m not going to say sorry for something I didn’t know!”

“Then I guess Whit’s giving you the silent treatment.”

Xander took his coffee and sipped it slowly. If his classmates had gotten a memory they definitely wouldn’t get rid of because of his embarrassing actions, then he supposed they weren’t that bad. He managed to get himself another date with Arei, his classmates were all closer, and the only downside was Whit being angry at Charles. Whit wasn’t the type of person to hold grudges, so he would get over it soon enough. It was just a question of if Charles would reluctantly agree to apologize before then, and Xander was interested in seeing it.

A/N: Fun Fact: Xanrei’s blind date was supposed to include laser tag in between bowling and ice cream. They were supposed to be on different teams but teaming up to get rid of all their competitors, and when it’s down to the final three, Xander accidentally pushes Arei against a wall to get rid of the other person. Arei already realized what position they were in, and Xander realizes it a second after. They look into each other’s eyes (maybe I’m just aegoaroace, but it sounds so gross when I write it like this), but eventually, Xander feels like they should probably get out of that situation, so he shoots Arei with his laser gun. Arei gets (playfully) upsets and refuses to talk to Xander until he buys her ice cream, and then the ice cream scene comes. Whit didn’t plan that, though, so you’d get a bonus scene of Xander asking why Arei would want ice cream when it was getting cold, and Arei telling him that he just didn’t understand her. The reason why laser tag wasn't included is just because I didn’t want to write it. Traces of what was supposed to happen after remain in the final scene with Whit and Charles, though, if that counts for anything. Maybe I’ll write Xanrei playing laser tag another time.

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myhiraeth · 3 years

Text

LOUIS WARREN. / DOSSIER

TAGS. /

iisms || headcanons || aesthetics || visage || wishlist

GENERAL. / all verses

name: Louis Warren dob: june 6 (gemini) orientation: bisexual / biromantic (technically he’s pan, but he self-identifies as bi) traits: + outgoing, playful, flirtasious, fighty – flighty, prone to bloodlust, non-committal physical features: countless scars from fighting. usually covered in fresh wounds and bruises. occupation: street fighter (illegal), mma (legal) notable connections: Charles and Deanna Warren (father and mother), Elizabeth, Stephen, Megan Warren (siblings, all older), Phillip Bancroft (best friend), Octavia Blake (best friend, occasional lover)

BACKGROUND:

Born the youngest child of Charles and Deanna Warren, Louis had one claim to fame: the black sheep. He skated by on average grades and charm, devoting himself in spurts. He’d throw his all into a project, into his friends, into a fight, into a dare or a challenge, but never for long. His passion was intense, but short lived, always had been. His parents were upper middle class, he’d never wanted for anything, save excitement.

Downtown was another story. A fight with a kid from a rival high school group attracted the wrong (or right) kind of attention, and he was offered money and a chance to bleed, or be bled. Something in him was only soothed by fighting, by blood and pain and exhaustion, and the offer was too tempting to resist. So he took the chance, ignored his friends’ arguments against it, and followed the stranger down the rabbit hole to the Pit.

No one asked his age, no one asked where he came from, but when he returned home everyone asked why he came back with a black eye, a split lip, bleeding knuckles and a shit-eating grin. You should see the other guy, he boasted, letting his family think he’d bested a mugger downtown, letting everyone in school know the official lie and whisper about the dirty truth.

The fight club style Pit was addictive, and it soothed the monster in his soul, let him be the charming, generous friend in his official world, and let the monster out to play in his secret one. He became a staple, became known for his spirit if not necessarily his skill. And he found his niche; it was a dirty little secret he had to keep, but he’d found his place.

PERSONALITY:

Louis is a boy from a movie, the boy you meet at the peak of adventure, the boy urging you to go further, take the risk, make the jump, get in the car, with eyes that promise excitement and adventure and hands that make you shiver when they touch you.

It's short lived excitement, his attention wanders almost too fast to keep up with, but the short while you'll spend with him is a time you're unlikely to forget.

BIO. / modern (default)

Louis is living his best fighty life. He’s a simple man with simple needs: he fights, he fucks, he eats, he sleeps.

Then he wakes up and starts the day anew. Lou loves having adventures and because it would look bad for his politician mother to abandon her only LGBTQ child, he’s still got access to his trust fund and his parents make sure his bills get paid. He particularly delights in spending his parents money on his friends and lovers, going on spur-of-the-moment adventures and trips.

The one place he does not usually allow his friends and lovers is the Pit. It’s where he’s at his worst, his most feral and most monstrous, and he doesn’t want his people there. Partially so they won’t see him like that, and partially because there are no rules in the Pit and he can’t guarantee their safety.

BIO. / t100 (by request) genre: apocalypse

Station: Alpha Crime: Assault Age at landing: 17

Louis was one of the original 100 delinquents sent to Earth. He was arrested for fighting along with another boy. There were others- other boys and girls who felt too cooped up in the ship and needed an outlet for their restless anger- but only the two in the middle of a fight were arrested. The boy he was arrested with turned 18 and was floated before the decision to send the children to earth was decided, and Louis still hold immense guilt for still being alive when his opponent was killed.

He is close friends with Octavia Blake (plotted with @ headstrongblake), has a soft spot for John Murphy, and cheekily and semi-often obeys Bellamy’s rule as Rebel King. He knew Clarke Griffin from Alpha station and the two have a complicated relationship, though on the surface it seems based in banter (him) and annoyance (her). (plotted with @ pyrrhicmessiah )

BIO. / falling kingdoms (open)

Being born in Auranos, Louis is firmly part of the rebellion. Louis dos believe the king needs to be overthrown, but mostly he just really enjoys a good rebellion. He heard of Jonas’ campaign against King Gaius and immediately went to join the fight. He told his best friend, Octavia Blake ( @ headstrongblake ) about his venture, and after her brother was murdered by the king, Octavia joined him among the ranks of the rebels.

** There are two versions of this, one where Louis is involved in an affair with Jonas ( @ rebelreign) and only vaguely aquatinted with Cleo ( @ starlightfreed). He is eventually Jonas’ second in command and acts (in the privacy of their time together) as the reason to Jonas’ self-doubt when the deaths get to be too much to handle for the rebel leader, && another where Louis was initially acquainted with Cleo and joined the rebellion alongside her. They have a love-hate type of relationship that often involves Louis flirting and Cleo denying him.

BIO. / single dad verse (by request) genre: flangst

Louis met a girl in college, she ended up pregnant, Lou did the honorable thing and offered to marry her and do the whole family thing. Everything was great until the baby was born and 3 months in baby mama took off. She hasn’t contacted Louis or anyone, and Louis is now raising his daughter Olivia on his own. Finished college, is a sports physical therapist.

BIO. / psych ward verse (private with @ headstrongblake but open to plotting) genre: angst

Louis was outed to his parents by his friends about his illegal fight ring, and promptly sent for a psych evaluation. Since no one can figure out WHY he needs the outlet of pain and blood, he’s been kept here, thought to be a potential danger to the public and himself. Best friend / romantic interest: Octavia Blake.

BIO. / star wars verse (open) genre: space drama

Currently: rebel fighter. Previously: bartender and fighter.

Born to a wealthy family on Coruscant, Lou left the city planet pretty quickly after turning of age, the well-known Black sheep of the Warren family disappearing into the universe. He’d pop back up on the radar on a tropical planet where he spends his days serving drinks on the beach and a handful of his nights participating in a fight club that attracts the brave and violent from all corners of the galaxy. He has a good life, serving, surfing, fighting and f*cking. Then he gets recruited for the Rebellion. He’s a Poe Dameron type, bold and charming brave and reckless.

Taken in by the lure to turn his fighting into something meaningful, he leaves the simple life behind, promising himself and his friends he’ll return one day after all is said and done.

They don’t believe him any more than he believes himself- they all know he’s going to get himself killed out there-, but it’s not the first lie he told himself, and it won’t be the last.

BIO. / hogwartsverse (open) genre: harry potter ( anti-jk )

House: Slytherin Blood: Pureblood Best class: Quidditch Worst Class: Potions Quidditch position: main Slyth chaser (bonus points for proposed headcanons that involve Lou and his other two chasers being close friends and why they work so well together)

Everyone’s convinced Louis asked for Slytherin because he’s such a Gryffindor on the surface. He laughs it off because he likes that people don’t see the snake in him.

Definitely still is in a secret fight club that takes place in the Room of Requirement, for his 3-5th year he’s in it, he inherits role as leader in his 6th year.

Voted Most Likely to Jump Off the Astronomy Tower On a Dare.

#louis warren. / bio #louis warren. / verses #louis warren. / verse. / modern #louis warren. / verse. / t100 #louis warren. / verse. / single dad #louis warren. / verse. / psych ward #louis warren. / verse. / falling kingdoms

0 notes

0vorenation0 · 4 years

Text

Rudy Pankow (Bodyswap)

(First B-Day Gift for my best friend Jake!!!)

(This is a little warm up for Jakes or @texanstrongjake birthday surprise. Enjoy jake there’s more to come!!!)

Jake had been watching a few shows on Netflix like Lucifer and some others. His favorite show to watch with his bf however was Outer Banks, he loved watching that show. It wasn’t necessary the best plot for a. Show but Jake liked the show because of the hot Rudy PanKow. He wasn’t a huge celebrity but he was known for his good handsome looks.

Rumor had it that he was Bi-curious, but it was never confirmed. Jake would watch Rudy in the show and stare at the hot alpha man. Then an ad popped up on Netflix, it said one lucky fan would get to meet Rudy. Jake pulled himself up and listen carefully. The commercial said all you need to do is fill out a online application, and the application would be selected randomly. Jake ran to the computer and filled out the application, and he hit send. A few days had passed and he was beginning to have doubts, when he got a phone call. The guy on the other side of the line was Rudy’s Agent calling Jake to congratulate him on winning the contest. The agent told jake that everything was showing to be paid for and that he would be meeting Rudy in two days.

Jake packed his bag gave his bf a kiss and left to the airport. He was flying to South Carolina when the show was being shot, he got to the airport and this private jet was waiting. Jake was treated like a celebrity and soon wished this was his life. After a nice Shrimp and Spaghetti meal made by a chef, Jake slowly drifted off. A couple hours passed when some turbulence awoke jake and he stared out into the dark night sky. He looked over and saw the plane attendant had him a warm towel and jake looked back out the window. A shooting start shot across the sky and jake made a wish. Jake wished again that he was treated like a celebrity.

He then feel back asleep and when he woke they had landed in South Carolina. Jake stepped out of the plane and a black Cadillac was waiting for him, Jake was greeted by the driver and held the door open to let him in. Jake jumped in and Rudy’s agent was waiting for Jake, they greeted each other. The agent went through the schedule, jake was planed to meet Rudy in 5 hours and he would get a sneak peak on set and the next episode. Jake was so excited, they left for the hotel and drank champagne. As the pulled up to the hotel Jake got out and the agent said he would be picking him up in 3 hours. The agent accidentally called Jake Rudy, but he shrugged it off and went inside. He was shown to his room, it was a massive room almost like a condo. He felt so privileged, Jake then noticed a fancy outfit for him to wear. I nice pair of jeans and button up shirt with a beautiful pair of shoes.

Jake hopped in the shower and got dressed and head down to the lobby where the agent was waiting. He was again shown to the Cadillac, they head to the studio when the show was being shot. When they arrived Jake was nervous, he had always wanted to meet Rudy and was so excited and nervous he was gonna day something dumb. They parked and headed inside, he was shown different stages where the shows were shot and met with different cast members.

Then they got to Rudy’s trailer, the agent said he was waiting inside and Jake said he could stay as long as he wanted. The agent left and said goodbye calling his Rudy again, Jake found it odd that he said that again. He locked and he hear a familiar voice tell him to come inside. Jake opened the door and there he was sitting on his couch on his phone. Rudy stood up and introduced the himself and jake did the same. They both sat down for awhile and just talked about a whole range of stuff. That’s when the agent came in and walked up to jake and Rudy. He pulled out a syringe and stuck fist Rudy then jake. The two passed out, when jake awoke he felt weird. He leaned up and saw the agent on the phone with his back turned. He stood up and tried to get passed him but the agent knew he was awake.

Agent~”so how do u feel? Hope your not mad at me for sticking u with a needle haha”

Jake~”dude wtf did u do and why do I feel so different, I’m gonna have u arrested”

Agent~” Relax Rudy, this is a good thing, and u feel different cuz u are different” the agent pointed behind him.

Jake~” stop calling me Rudd......” jake stoped as he turned around to see his body lying on the couch. Jake looked at his hands and they looked different and his face felt strange. He ran to the mirror and saw that he was no longer jake but Rudy. Could it be the shooting star wish actually worked.

Jake~”what does this mean exactly, I’m not Rudy who’s going to do the show?”

Agent~”you are Rudy, u have seen the show more then anyone. You know it just as well as old Rudy dose.”

Jake~”your joking right? I mean I wanted to be Rudy but this isn’t real is it?”

Agent~”100% real, I’m ur agent and ur my client Rudy now they need you on set. Don’t worry about ur old body and old Rudy, he’s you but he won’t remember anything and he will think he’s Jake. So he will go back to his life and you will take his place. The reason we did this is because Rudy was wanting to leave the show to make music. So we could let him leave, I hope your up for ur fame. You got a small glimpse of it, but there so much more.

Jake~”This is great, I mean a little weird but I’ve always wanted to live a celebrities life. Oh no what about my bf?”

Agent~” I was wondering when u were gonna ask about that, we flew him in and told him about the whole thing he can’t wait to meet his new bf. Should I send him in Rudy?”

Jake~” yes sir pls do, bye Rudy have fun as jake. Hope you enjoy the show just as much as I do”

With that Jake went outside and his bf was waiting for him and gave him a big hug and marveled at his new bfs physique. Rudy soon came out as bi and the preds ate this up with pics of Rudy and his bfs vacation. Rudy made his way up and even landed some big time movies deals. Back home Jake always watched Rudy’s movies and admired him, poor old Rudy you had it all.

#vorenation #celebrity #bodyswap #Jake

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izanyas · 5 years

Text

and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow (19)

Rating: M Words: 11,400 Warnings: off-screen rape and murder, denial of pregnancy, off-screen child birth. This one’s the heaviest chapter in the whole story, so take care.

[Read from prologue]

and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow Chapter 19

The Golden Carp Tower of Lanling reigned over the peak it was perched upon in obvious show of power. It gave out the same impression of grandeur and timeless magnificence that Qishan's Nightless City did, something neither the Lotus Pier nor the Cloud Recesses had ever reached for. Perhaps Qinghe's Unclean Realm did as well; perhaps this foothold of the last great cultivation sect also towered overland, its masters greedy for renown, but Wei Wuxian doubted it.

The city laid under the Tower was flourishing, too. Colorful and noisy, threaded with quick mountain rivers flowing downstream in a hurry, trodden upon by merchants and craftsmen in a flurry of voices. But there was no mistaking the distance put between those people and the golden gate of the Jin clan's household. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were arrested at the foot of hundreds of stairsteps leading to the great halls. They were asked to dismount their horses by a pair of alpha women clad in golden robes.

"Damn Jin Guangshan," Jiang Cheng muttered as they started their ascension.

Over their heads, a few cultivators rode in on swords. None of them were asked to tire themselves by climbing the magnificent stairs. This was a statement, Wei Wuxian thought darkly. A sign of unwelcome laid in all the underhanded ways that the Jin sect leader prized.

It did not give him incentive to reply to Jiang Cheng's words, however.

Jiang Cheng perhaps felt that this was due to resentment, though it was not entirely. He remained silent as they walked up the stairs side by side, one hand grasping Sandu's scabbard in irritation, the other balled by his hip into a fist. Wei Wuxian did not touch Suibian which hung at his own waist.

The hole within him pulsed with every tiring step. He felt not sleepy with it, although for a few nights now, dread had kept him awake, whispering dark omens of the discussion conference to be held that very evening. Ever-present nausea crawled just shy of his throat instead.

He stopped when they reached a small promontory about two-thirds of the way up. From here the city was far enough below them that more of the land around could be glimpsed; and it was the sight of a familiar red flag at the foot of the mountain that halted his steps.

It seemed to be speared into the ground in the middle of a small encampment. Ant-sized people scurried there from one end of a wide enclosure to the other, surrounded by guards on horseback.

Prisoners of war.

"Wei Wuxian," came Jiang Cheng's hesitant voice.

Wei Wuxian looked up.

Jiang Cheng had gone a few steps above and beyond before realizing that Wei Wuxian had stopped. He called him now subduedly, as he had been wont to since Zhu Yuansu had left the Lotus Pier forever. He had barely spoken to Wei Wuxian since then, and looked full of awkwardness every time, even when he had shared with him Jin Guangshan's invitation, which requested Wei Wuxian's presence rather than his alone.

Wei Wuxian still had not made up his mind about whether this was a bad or terrible thing. He could hardly think that Jin Guangshan, who had ignored his existence whenever he visited the Pier, would want for his company now in order to be friendly.

"I'm coming," Wei Wuxian replied at last.

It was only a few words, and devoid of much meaning, but Jiang Cheng's brow smoothed over immediately.

At the entrance of the sunlit hall where the conference would take place, they were greeted by a servant boy who told them all the usual pleasantries—that they would be shown to their rooms soon, that his sect leader would welcome them in a few minutes, that refreshments would be served to them. His deference showed no sign of the rancor which Jin Guangshan must feel for them now. Before he could take them away, however, a man opened the doors to the dining hall from within.

More than the red mark drawn between both of his eyes, the air of arrogant boredom he exuded showed him to be part of the Jin clan.

Wei Wuxian would have only glimpsed at him for a second before looking away, but the man stopped short at the sight of him and Jiang Cheng, a scandalized expression tightening the inelegant lines of his face.

"You," he said in obvious fury.

Wei Wuxian realized a tad lately that it was him the man was addressing.

"Yes?" he replied, skipping over ceremony altogether.

Perhaps he would have bothered with it if the man's weakly alpha-scent had not reached him then and made him want to sneer. As it was, the thought of dealing with yet another crisis of status from a stranger annoyed him to no end, and he would rather hasten it so he could reach his guest room and be alone at last.

But the man seemed to know him; he called, "Wei Wuxian," in such deep and embarrassed anger, that Wei Wuxian had no doubt they had met before.

"Is there a problem?" Jiang Cheng asked loudly, having noticed that Wei Wuxian was straggling behind him again.

The face that the man pulled at the sight of someone of higher status than himself was almost comical. Yet it was not enough to cow him, for he barely nodded in Jiang Cheng's direction before spitting to Wei Wuxian, "How dare you come here."

"I was invited," Wei Wuxian replied evenly. "Do I know you?"

He was so tired of it all. At least in Yunmeng, even those who cringed away from him had learned not to make a fuss.

The man spluttered and reddened, and it seemed that his whole face swelled under the strength of whatever grudge he held. "Do you 'know' me?" he parroted, seething. "How dare you!"

His hand came to the handle of his golden sword as if he meant to unsheathe it and ask for a duel there and then; but another voice joined him from within the dining hall, calling, "Jin Zixun!"

Jin Zixuan emerged from behind the door, his own forehead wrinkled with annoyance as he looked between Wei Wuxian and his clansman.

Wei Wuxian was not looking at him, however.

It was coming back to him, now: that oddly-delicate sword in the man's grasp, that name which Wei Wuxian had already heard Jin Zixuan call in such a voice, years ago. The sight of a rude alpha seated by the dais in the Lotus Pier's welcoming hall, exchanging pleasantries with Madam Yu, bargaining for ownership of Wei Wuxian light-heartedly.

Bile spread over his tongue so bitterly that for a single second, he feared his own anger would make him retch again.

"I remember now," he said out loud.

The two men before him turned to him at once.

"Jin Zixun," Wei Wuxian muttered without an ounce of respect to his words or voice. "You're not any less unsightly now than when I saw you last."

Jin Zixun's thick face paled and then reddened in outrage.

"Wei Wuxian!" he cried, and this time he did unsheathe part of his sword.

"What are you doing?" Jiang Cheng answered angrily.

Wei Wuxian had no doubt that those words were half-directed to him, although Jiang Cheng was only looking at Jin Zixun.

Surprisingly, it was Jin Zixuan who broke the fight-to-be.

He grabbed onto his cousin's arm tightly, forcing the half of the sword back into its sheath with the strength of one shoulder alone. "Wei Wuxian is a guest here, Zixun," he said in a tight voice. "My father asked for his presence."

"Oh, your father did," Jin Zixuan replied mockingly. With his face as shamed and furious as it was, the effect was lost to all. Still he shook his arm out of Jin Zixuan's hold and said, sneering, "Yes, I'm sure Uncle was the one who asked for this omega to be here."

"Enough," Jin Zixuan cut in harshly.

His own face had flushed with blood.

Jin Zixun seemed to have some modicum of manner left to him. He huffed like a bothered horse and turned his back to them all, leaving the way he had come with not a word of salute to Jiang Cheng, who watched all of this in confusion.

"What did you do to that man?" Jiang Cheng asked Wei Wuxian.

Neither he nor Jiang Yanli had ever told Jiang Cheng of what Madam Yu had once tried to do while he and Jiang Fengmian were away on a hunt. He felt very little like disclosing it now; Jiang Cheng never liked to speak of such things about him, and anyway Wei Wuxian was too mortified still by the ordeal to wish to dig up the memory.

Jin Zixuan cleared his throat. He nodded shakily to them, his face still red, his sword hand moving oddly before him, as if he did not know what to do with it. "Sect leader Jiang," he greeted. "I apologize on behalf of my cousin. He is rather ruder than the rest."

His eyes met Wei Wuxian's when he said this, something like a smile lifting his lips at the corners, though it quickly vanished.

"Is your sister well?" he asked Jiang Cheng rather brusquely.

"Yes," Jiang Cheng replied, surprised. "She has remained in Yunmeng to oversee reparations while we are here."

"I hear the Lotus Pier is well on its way to regaining all of its former glory. I should like to visit in the future and reassure my father of our greatest ally's health."

"Yes, of course…"

Wei Wuxian lost interest in the conversation when it veered toward matters of war again. He looked over the spotless white-and-gold of the hallway they stood in—the unstained and gleaming floor below their feet, the aching neatness which hung even from the leaves of carefully-tended potted plants—and longed for home.

Wen Yueying had been so distraught upon learning that he would be gone for a few days. Wen Yiqian and Wen Linfeng were less effusive than she was with their emotions, but he had still understood their fear at being left alone, even with Jiang Yanli there to keep them company.

No matter how much he tried to reason with himself, Wei Wuxian could not parry away the fear that one of them would be gone when he returned.

"Let me take you to your rooms," Jin Zixuan was saying now, showing with one arm the length of corridor extending to their left in direction of guest quarters.

The servant boy who had waited to do just that since they arrived looked almost angry at his words.

"I'll take a walk," Wei Wuxian declared.

Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan both looked at him in surprise.

"You must be tired," Jin Zixuan said, his face pinched oddly. "You have all of the next three days to visit if you want, you should rest now."

"I'm not," Wei Wuxian retorted, though he was.

Exhausted and hollow and sleepless, and feeling all the while as though something simmered beneath his skin that he could not give a name to, pulling it inside-out, swelling like sickness through him.

He felt like vomiting again. "Your father never graced with with an invitation before today," he told Jin Zixuan, who must truly feel off, for his face once more twisted weirdly. "I would like to visit the city."

"Yes, but—"

Jin Zixuan looked helplessly from Jiang Cheng to Wei Wuxian and back, waiting perhaps for Jiang Cheng to deny Wei Wuxian, as so many people did whenever Wei Wuxian expressed something not dictated by the people of higher status who stood by him.

He was out of luck, however. Jiang Cheng had been avoidant of Wei Wuxian since the incident with Zhu Yuansu, and surely would not insist on being in his presence now if he could avoid it. Indeed, Jiang Cheng only nodded once and quickly before walking away.

Wei Wuxian turned his back to them both and walked once more down the endless stairs.

He stopped only when he reached the same little stone bluff he had paused by while they were ascending. Here the air came more clearly to his lungs, soothing his nausea and clearing his thoughts till he felt something like himself again. The prisoner camp at the foot of the mountain was still as visible as before, the red Qishanwen flag planted in its middle still just as stark against the sloped grey land.

Wei Wuxian looked away from it and wiped his mouth with the back of a hand. He near-jumped when light footsteps echoed behind him, followed by the glide of metal on leather and wood—a sword unsheathed—

But his next intake of air filled him with familiar sandalwood, and it was only Lan Wangji he found when he turned on his own feet, Chenqing held in one hand.

Lan Wangji's movements paused when their eyes met. He must have come flying and touched ground a few yards behind Wei Wuxian, for he was in the middle of sheathing Bichen. He held still until Wei Wuxian breathed out and took his hand off of his dizi.

Bichen's pommel knocked against the edge of its scabbard softly.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian greeted once the blade was out of sight. "I didn't see you, my apologies."

"No need to apologize," Lan Wangji replied in his usual even voice.

It had been less than a month and a half since Wei Wuxian had last seen him. He should not be surprised that Lan Wangji looked the same as ever: troublingly beautiful, unwasteful of so much as movement or air, ethereal again now that he was not covered in the sweat and dust of months of war.

He remembered once comparing him to the great beauties of ages past, to Lan An or Wen Mao, as they both stood above the stairs of the Nightless City. The comparison felt apt again with the white light of coming fall painted thusly over him.

Wei Wuxian felt himself smile as he had not in a long time. Lan Wangji's pale eyes caught onto light wetly; for a still and breathless second, he looked more statue than man, before he blinked and looked away.

"It is good to see you. Did you come with your brother?" Wei Wuxian asked.

"Yes," Lan Wangji said softly.

As if called by the mention of him alone, Lan Xichen appeared down the harsh slope of the stairs, walking up slowly in company of a familiar man in golden robes. The both of them stopped a few steps below the bluff where Wei Wuxian stood and bowed, one at the shoulders, the other at the neck.

Meng Yao, Wei Wuxian remembered, eyeing the man in gold.

The spy who had infiltrated Wen Ruohan's ranks and offered the man's head on a platter to Nie Mingjue.

Lan Xichen was the one to speak first as he rose. "I was wondering where Wangji had gone to," he said, looking at his brother fondly. "He must have seen you from below, young master Wei."

"Lan Zhan has a keener eye than me," Wei Wuxian replied, "I hadn't seen any of you at all."

His words were perhaps a bit rude, but none of the three men seemed to mind. Nor did they point out his lack of manners for not bowing back to them.

Wei Wuxian was unsure of what his own reaction would be if they did.

"My apologies for not greeting you and sect leader Jiang when you arrived, young master," said Meng Yao. "I'm afraid my help was needed elsewhere, and then I wished to wait for er-ge and Wangji to arrive."

He said nothing of the fact that Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were asked to climb the mountain by foot. Perhaps he did not know, Wei Wuxian thought blithely. He had heard that Meng Yao was an illegitimate child of Jin Guangshan's; perhaps he was not privy to the man's moods and decisions like his half-brother Jin Zixuan must be.

"Jiang Cheng was greeted by your brother," Wei Wuxian replied at last. "So no harm done, Meng Yao."

His use of the man's bare name was a test of sorts, but Meng Yao showed no offense. He simply nodded to him and gave him another of those weak smiles he seemed so fond of.

Lan Xichen was the one who spoke next. "If I may, young master Wei," he said subduedly. Wei Wuxian tensed before he could even finish. "You look… rather tired. Are you in good health?"

His eyes swept between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji quickly.

"Have the servants not shown you to your quarters?" Meng Yao asked worriedly. "Then allow me—"

"They have," Wei Wuxian interrupted. Suddenly, all the ease he had felt in Lan Wangji's presence was gone. He turned away from them all and left the flat expanse of stone he had stood on a second ago, saying, "I wished to take a walk, that's all. Excuse me."

Although only soft and polite parting words reached him, Wei Wuxian felt three pairs of eyes upon his nape until the long and winding stairs took a sharp turn around the curve of the mountain.

He had no wish to know what Lan Xichen or Lan Wangji thought of his appearance. His shijie had done quite enough aimless worrying over the past few weeks.

The city was no less bustling now than it had been when he first arrived. People walked and shouted across the maze-like streets; merchants seemed to have come from far and wide for the discussion conference, knowing how many wealthy cultivators would be here to play the part of unwitting client. From the first hundred steps of the stairs and to the bottom of the town, calls came to him from smiling vendors, asking if he should like to taste this liquor or delicacy, to touch the soft fabric of this or that winter cloak and buy it for the winter. Wei Wuxian was not in enough of a daze that day not to feel awed at being treated with such civility.

A scent was all it took, then. If a hint of sweetness had clung to him, none of those people would be smiling or speaking to him. If the smell of honey had still followed in his footsteps, not a smile would be directed his way. It was almost enough to make him wish he still looked and felt to them all the part what he truly was. To see their kind eyes turn hostile, to give him incentive to curse each and every one of them.

If his scent had not gone away with the loss of his golden core, then perhaps the sickly feeling in his chest would not be there. Perhaps he would sleep at night rather than spend hours pushing memories away, and perhaps Zhu Yuansu would still live in the Lotus Pier.

So taken was Wei Wuxian with those thoughts that he did not notice the person who stumbled against him.

He had walked away from the broader streets and on to narrow alleyways. He would not have thought anything of the haggard woman who knocked into him as she walked, if the scent of persimmon had not reached him and made his entire body still.

"Sorry," she said; and she stumbled on thin air, weak and helpless as he had never seen her before, until he reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder.

It was the wrong thing to do.

She cried out and struggled against him in violence, shaking, wild with the need to escape him. Her head nearly knocked into a wall of the alley. Wei Wuxian let go of her with his heart pushed so far up his throat that not even nausea could be felt anymore, and he called her name in anguish—"Wen Qing."

Wen Qing froze, her very wide eyes finding his at last.

Wei Wuxian could find nothing at all to say. He stared at her in a haze, noticing the pallor of her skin, the dirt smeared over her face and clothes, the bruises purpling around her eyes where something or someone must have struck her.

"Wei Ying," she whispered in shock.

Wei Wuxian forced open his mouth. "Yes," he said, "yes, it's me."

"Wei Wuxian," she called again, and she was the one this time to grab onto him fiercely.

Her fingers were so thin, it felt as though skin had gone from her entirely, and those were bones digging into the meat of his forearm. Her face was carved out of any layer of fat and muscle. Her cheeks were sunken in, her lips cracked and bloodless.

"What are you doing here?" Wei Wuxian asked. He held onto her hand, finding it as cold as ice, as dry as scorched earth. "What happened to you? Where is Wen Ning?"

"Wei Wuxian," Wen Qing said again breathlessly.

And she burst into sobs.

As if all strength had fled her, she fell to the ground, taking him with her. Wei Wuxian could only think to cushion the back of her head with one hand and prevent it from hitting the corner of a house fence, and then again she did not seem to notice; then again all she did was cling to him and cry, so unlike the cold and fearless woman he had asked to do the impossible. Wei Wuxian sat wordlessly onto the dirt path, allowing her to hold onto him painfully, not knowing how to comfort her.

"Please," she begged, "please, you have to help me, you have to—"

She could hardly speak at all. Her own words died, cut out of existence by her halted breathing, by just how quickly air came and went out of her. He called her name again when her eyes rolled backward and she slumped against him. He laid her onto the ground, holding her hand tightly, wishing that anyone were here to tell him what to do.

"Wen Qing," he called over and over again. "Wen Qing, please, wake up."

It took such a long time for her to do so. In that time Wei Wuxian lifted her unconscious body and walked away from the entrance of the alley, far off to the back of it where fewer people risked seeing them. He found a patch of untouched grass there to lay her upon; he folded his outer robes underneath her head to make the touch of ground a little kinder. Even so, an eternity seemed to pass before she moved again. She breathed in harshly, coughing, unresisting when he pulled her to her side to free the way out of her lungs in case she started vomiting.

She did not, but her face was as pale as death. Her hand in his grew damp and cold with sweat. Her eyes flickered weakly to his as she regained her bearings, and he was not surprised when she did not answer his smile with one of her own.

"Wei Wuxian," she said in such a broken voice that the sound alone felt painful.

"I'm here," he replied.

She looked so frail. Seeing her like this, after only knowing her in the shadow of the Lotus Pier, confronting him head-on, tearing the spirituality out of him with her bare hands, heedless of his screaming…

Wei Wuxian felt like something had knocked the air out of his chest.

"A-Ning," she told him. Tears once more shone in her eyes as she held tightly to his hand and tried to rise up. "You have to help him."

"What happened to Wen Ning?" Wei Wuxian asked her, though dread was already digging in him a hole in the shape of her answer.

Since he had fallen to the Burial Mounds, he had believed her and her brother safe and far away from harm.

He had thought she would flee with him. He had believed that once her promise to him was fulfilled—once she had fooled Jiang Cheng into thinking she was the sage Baoshan Sanren and had rebuilt his core—she would go far away with Wen Ning and never set foot near the Wen clan again.

But he had seen the camp at the foot of the mountain; he had glimpsed, from high above, the shape of scurrying people followed around by Jin sect guards on horses.

He had smelled the unmasked scent on her body.

"What happened to him?" he asked again with his heart in his throat.

Wen Qing dug her nails into his hand and told him.

If asked about Wei Wuxian decades after the events that were took place, most of the cultivation world would recall the discussion conference of Lanling as the day the Yiling Patriarch, the thief omega of the Burial Mounds, Jiang Cheng's traitor of a sect-brother, lost his sanity.

Accounts would differ as to what exactly went down. For a few years after the fact, it would rather feel like the truth: that Wei Wuxian had come in drenched by the rain and with dirt over his clothes; that he had threatened Jin Guangshan and Jin Zixun; that he had left the calls of his sect leader unheeded, and that his eyes had glowed red with the awful energy he dispersed. That corpses had crawled over the widest hall of Golden Carp Tower and left behind trails of dirt, of rotten flesh, of powdered bones.

Some would even remember how Jin Zixun had reacted to his accusations. That he had called him scorned and unfit for marriage, had called into question his virtue and his acts of war, had mockingly told his sect leader that Wei Wuxian was proof of why omegakind should live away from the world. And that Wei Wuxian, upon hearing those words, had stepped onto the man's throat until he grew purple with lack of air, and said coldly: "Tell me where you took him."

"Wei Wuxian!" Jin Guangshan had called in fury and outrage. He had risen from the dais where his table was set in the terrified silence, his dumbstruck son by his side, and declared, "You are a guest of my house, and you dare lay a hand on a member of my family?"

"I dare," Wei Wuxian had answered.

Of all the esteemed guests lining the golden walls, none had known how to act. All had looked in fear upon the haunting silhouettes of dead bodies crawling in from the shadows.

Jiang Cheng of Yunmeng had risen as well; and perhaps for a while, for a few days or weeks, a fraction of those present would recall that he had begged his sect-brother to stand down.

None but one would remember, however, that Wei Wuxian had looked at him with apology in his eyes before he refused him.

"Sect leader Jin," Wei Wuxian said into the miasmic silence, as his puppets poisoned the air and as Jin Zixun choked and whimpered beneath his foot. "Why should I not dare to lay a hand on this man after what he did? Is loyalty only reserved for blood? Should I not avenge my own kind?

"Are all of you here above blame, then, for every person you presumed to call yours?"

Jin Zixun grabbed at his leg and ankle and begged for his life, promising to tell Wei Wuxian what he wanted to know.

There would the recollections fall apart and start veering into fantasy, as many would say that Wei Wuxian then called upon monsters and divine beasts, or that he had killed Jin Zixun in front of so many eyes, and Jin Guangshan, and Jin Zixuan, and then went on to rampage and pillage the Tower.

If asked about that day in Lanling, Wei Wuxian would say that he did not remember much.

He remembered Jiang Cheng telling him, "Stop it, let's talk about this," and refusing to abide.

He remembered declaring to whole assembly, "I would rather take them all from you, whether they be your children or your siblings or your spouses, before I allow a single one of you to touch them again."

And he remembered Wen Ning.

The place that Jin Zixun had given him the name to was a path snaked between the sides of two mountains. The rain that had started falling as Wen Qing told him everything beat down more harshly here than anywhere else, dribbling from the thickly-clouded sky and from the torrents and slopes of the two neighboring peaks. He and Wen Qing trod through mud up to the knee under the moonless night. They fell and cut open their hands on slick rocks. They searched for hours until their voices grew dim and painful, until the very name they were calling ceased to feel like a name at all.

And Wen Ning was laid upon a flat rock where the path dipped to the other flank of the mountain, a Qishanwen flag pierced through his belly, his clothes hastily put over his corpse in a parody of modesty.

"No!" Wen Qing screamed at the sight of him.

Her voice cracked and bled, and it sounded the same as if the sky had opened above them and struck the earth with lightning.

Wei Wuxian remained knee-deep into the mud. He watched her weep and sob and cradle Wen Ning's body in her arms, rocking back and forth under the pouring rain as if she could will him back into a child. As if she could will him back to life.

He would remember this forever.

"Wen Qing," he called in misery.

It hurt too much to look at Wen Ning and to read upon his face the loneliness and terror he must have felt as he was left to die. Wei Wuxian looked at her instead, knowing that this would be another thing to haunt his sleepless night, that the sight of her starved and ravaged with grief would never leave his heart again.

"Loquats," Wen Qing cried. Her fingers shook as she ran them through her brother's drenched hair, as she petted his face as if to comfort him. She looked at Wei Wuxian and said, "When he was small, he smelled of loquats."

Wei Wuxian remembered when he was the one begging her for the impossible. Promising to bring her brother back from the dead was only the right way to repay her.

The rain had rendered Chenqing slick and useless, but Wei Wuxian had no need for it. Not with Wen Qing so hollowed by loss that the spirit of her brother must be tied down to earth with her regret alone.

He let Wen Ning's woken corpse loose onto the encampment of Wen prisoners at the foot of the mountain. The starved and exhausted people there looked on in faint terror as Wen Ning killed each of the guards surrounding them, and most of them were old and weary. They did not protest at all when Wei Wuxian ordered them to mount the horses and follow him.

Jiang Cheng found them as they rode southward. He flew above and beyond them and touched ground before Wei Wuxian, surprising his horse into stopping and drawing back, frightening the men and women behind him who were so very scared that this was just another trap they were being led to.

"Wei Wuxian," Jiang Cheng pleaded.

He was soaking too, his uniform gone black with wet, his sword glistening with rivulets of water.

"What are you doing?" he asked in despair. "Where are you going?"

"Jiang Cheng," Wei Wuxian said, the way he used to say his name to comfort him when they were both children.

Jiang Cheng's face twisted with anger. "Why did you do this?" he bellowed. His unarmed hand pointed to the Wen sect prisoners, to Wen Qing on her horse who held her brother's corpse against her. "What is wrong with you!? Don't you realize what you've done, don't you know how many grudges you've sown tonight?"

"Jiang Cheng, get out of my way."

"I won't!"

He was breathless after saying it, shocked by his own words. For a second speechlessness struck him silent and pale; then his slippery hold on Sandu tightened, and he once more bared his teeth.

"I will not," he repeated harshly. "Not until you come down from that horse and go home with me."

"I'm not going home," Wei Wuxian replied.

The reality of it had not solidified for him until he said it so plainly. It did so then, pulling heavily at his heart, unable for all of his regrets to make him change his mind.

He laughed. He felt like crying. "Jiang Cheng, you can't understand," he told his shidi. "You'll never be able to understand. Please, just—let it go. Let me go."

"I can," Jiang Cheng said, looking as brave and foolish as he did on the day he had first asked Wei Wuxian for tips in archery, on the first day their sparrs had ended in his victory, on the first day they had seen each other after Wei Wuxian became mature. "I can understand if you just tell me."

But this was no trick to split an arrow in two; this was no training to pull each other up from afterward, and no heartfelt reunion in the shape of awkward sideways touches.

"Say goodbye to the kids for me, please," Wei Wuxian told him.

He kicked into his horse's side to hurry it forward, calling for the others to follow, ignoring the cry of his name that split the sky behind them as surely as wind and rain did.

The Wen sect remnants followed him through the hills of the Burial Mounds with fear haunting their every steps. They huddled close together, alpha and beta scents gone sour with fright, all of them old enough to have seen another generation grow and take power.

None of them knew what they were doing here; only that Wen Qing had taken the lead from them and told them that they were now safe. So the twenty-odd people walked among dead land, scared of the crows perched on tombstones along their way, wary of the scentless man in black who was guiding them forth.

Wei Wuxian took them to the cave he had inhabited after his fall. They creeped together for warmth once he built a fire, and the twenty of them found sleep at some point or another.

Wen Qing was the only one he showed to the deep end of the cave, where a bloodpool had grown out of all the spirits haunting the hills.

"How can we even breathe here?" she asked as he set Wen Ning's body down by another fire.

Wei Wuxian had no talisman paper on him that was not turned to wet paste by the rain, but the ground was smooth enough. He cut his thumb with Suibian's edge, bowing when the strength of the sword's spirit pulled at his coreless body, and drew an array twice as big as himself upon the floor. Thrice more did he have to reopen the cut in order to finish the design; by the time he was done, he was panting with effort.

"Wei Wuxian, we can't stay here," Wen Qing told him again.

"I'll keep the spirits at bay," he replied to her. His side ached. "Come, help me put him there."

Wen Qing was still weak and shaking with grief, but she obeyed. She held her brother's feet while he carried him by the shoulders and head, and together they placed him as exactly as they could within the blood circle.

He fell over when they were done. Wen Qing hurried to his side, ignoring his protests as she opened his collar and checked the center of his neck and chest with her fingers.

"The energy in your body is all over the place," she told him after a few seconds of silence. Her fingers left his skin and came to rest on his shoulder, trembling badly.

"You knew that," Wei Wuxian replied weakly. "You know why."

"I can barely even feel your pulse, Wei Wuxian, every vein in you is so thick with resentful energy. You've lost too much weight as well."

"You should tell me about losing weight, Wen Qing."

"I didn't have a choice in the matter," she snapped at him.

It silenced any answer he could have given her.

Wind blew in from the far-off entrance of the cave, making the firelight shiver and shadows creep over Wen Ning's still body. Wen Qing left Wei Wuxian's side to kneel by her brother's. She fixed the bloody clothing on him so that it aligned once more neatly with his shoulders and arms.

Wei Wuxian looked away when her breathing hitched painfully; when her hands seized Wen Ning's cold ones and she once more shook with sobs.

"I said I'd bring him back," he told her after she quieted.

The way the light shivered told him that she must have nodded. It wasn't a minute later that she rose again to her feet, her face free of tear tracks, looking almost like the woman who had once yelled at him for kneeling.

Wei Wuxian rose shakily. All the strength in his body had left after the horse ride and the trek up the hills, after using Suibian for the first time without a golden core for the sword to latch on to. He was not surprised to feel light-headed and see black spots before him, or to have to stumble to the edge of the poisoned pool in order to retch there.

He was surprised, however, to feel Wen Qing follow him and put a hand over his forehead. For a terrible second, he feared that he would cry and hold her as he did Jiang Yanli.

"You're feverish," she told him. Her touch left him before he could indulge in such childish, selfish needs; Wei Wuxian rose again and leaned against the wall, and hoped that none of his heartache showed on his face.

"I've been sick for a while," he replied haltedly. "Ever since you operated on me."

Even breathing exhausted him. He had to take in air slowly and carefully after speaking so that his head felt a little less dizzy.

"How sick?" Wen Qing asked with a frown.

"Not much. It's only my body getting used to the loss of the core."

She did not look as certain as he was, but Wei Wuxian had no desire to explain to her how little he cared about his own body, in the face of everything.

They sat next to each other in the light of the fire, watching the array around Wen Ning's body, as Wei Wuxian told her of how he hoped to bring the young man's spirit back. I can't give him a life back, he told her. It will not be the same.

He did not tell her of how little faith he had in his own success; Wen Qing must be able to read it off of him, and either way, all she seemed to care about was the possibility of her brother opening his eyes and looking at her with his own spirit back to him.

"What will you do now?" she asked him in the small hours of morning.

Rustling noises had started coming to them from the entrance of the cave, where the twenty prisoners of Lanling had started waking up. Daylight shimmered at the curve of the tunnel, reflected onto walls by the bloodpool at the far back.

"Wei Wuxian," she called. "What will you do? You've made many enemies last night. Jin Guangshan will not be happy with you, even if you let that wretched man live."

He had let Jin Zixun live because Wen Qing had asked him to; because if he had killed an heir to Jin Guangshan in full view of the man and his allies, they would have all been murdered before they could leave the city.

It did not change how deeply he wanted to have crushed Jin Zixun's throat under his foot until the man stopped squirming.

"I'll do as I told them I would," he said.

He stood up. He walked to the front of the tunnel, to the place where it opened into a wider cave and he had let the prisoners rest together. They looked at him in exhaustion and weakness, all of them pale with lack of food and shaking over the ground. Many bore bruises, like Wen Qing did. Some more had blood seeping through their clothing; Wen Qing gave an affronted noise at the sight.

Outside, Yiling's Burial Mounds shone out of a different light than the one he had known when he had been forced to live here. With Chenqing as an anchor to keep the vile haunts and creatures away, sunlight did pierce through the cover of clouds and fall upon the dry earth. The ragged and naked trees bordering every path cast long and twisted shadows, and the cold stream where Wei Wuxian had once quenched his thirst now sparkled with freshwater.

He could live here, he realized.

All of them could live here.

"I'll take them," Wei Wuxian said. "Their omega. I told them I would, and that's what I'll do."

Wen Qing grabbed his sleeve weakly. "It won't be that simple," she replied. "Most of them… They won't take your offer as kindness, Wei Wuxian. You don't know what it's like for those of us who have never set foot outside."

"I do know."

Zhu Yuansu's face was still burned into his eyes. His voice still rang through him ceaselessly.

"But those who want to come, those who want to escape," he said, "I'll take them. Even if I have to fend off a thousand angry spouses. If even one of them wants to be free, then that's enough for me."

If there was another Wen Yueying out there whose fate he could change, then his life would not have been worthless.

Meng Yao's quarters at the Golden Carp Tower were nowhere as elegant as the rest of the palace, but there was a sophistication to them that Lan Xichen greatly enjoyed. Whenever he visited, Meng Yao would have some new book of spells or ancient songs to show him or ask him about. He would be shown to the room at the back where Meng Yao collected paintings of great beauty and elegance. He would be made to taste teas imported from far and wide as they sat on either end of the centerpiece table and discussed clan affairs.

Always, A-Yao's comforting scent basked the space around him with such homeliness that Lan Xichen felt just as comfortable as he did in the hanshi. Candles and incense meshed well with this woodsiness, and often, he thought of the rainy days in Gusu; of the pale light of morning above damp grassy paths, and the petrichor smell he had loved since he was a child.

By his side, Wangji sat still and silent, his whole body thrumming with unease.

This was the lone reason Xichen did not feel so content, even when Meng Yao handed him his gift of the day; a stack of talismans as old as the Jin sect itself whose ink had blurred and weeped in places.

Meng Yao was always rather good at picking up on Xichen's quiet brother's moods. "Wangji," he called kindly, "would you like for me to close the window? The day has been quite cold."

Wangji shook his head and took his tea in hand, though he did not drink it.

Meng Yao closed the window anyway. Each time Lan Xichen saw him, he seemed to wear finer clothes than the previous, as his standing with Jin Guangshan seemed to rise. Xichen regretted that Meng Yao should never be recognized as the man's child, but at least his sworn brother seemed to live comfortably and happily.

"I asked the two of you to come here because sect leader Jin will not be long in asking you again for permission to install watchtowers at Gusu's border," he said once he was sat again. "I know your uncle was firm in his refusal the last time, but I was wondering if he may have changed his mind."

It was as Lan Xichen had expected.

Meng Yao must want for more than a simple opinion, if he had asked for Wangji to come rather than simply Xichen. Although the both of them had shared the duties of sect leader since their father's death, as their uncle thought Wangji to still be too young to inherit the position in full, Xichen held, in truth, very little power.

He traveled between the sects to deliver messages and gifts. He received in Wangji's place when his brother was busy. But any decisive power he held had to run first through his uncle, then through his brother; and then, Wangji was the one whose word the other sect leaders asked for in order to conclude dealings of any kind.

Seeing as Wangji seemed in no state to speak now, Xichen answered for him. He already knew the answer to this question. "Our uncle still disagrees with your father's plans," he said. "I fear the memory of Wen Xu's attack is still heavy on his mind. He is loathe to give so much control to any one sect and risk another Sunshot Campaign."

"This is what I said as well," Meng Yao replied, sorrowful.

He went on to explain to them why his father thought those watchtowers of his to be so essential—for the general peace and protection of people, and because they would allow for any sect to be warned of dangerous spiritual activity even in the most remote of places. But his tone was clipped and hurried, and Lan Xichen could tell that those were Jin Guangshan's words and not Meng Yao's.

Still, he entertained them. He discussed the pros and cons. He kept himself from agreeing to anything, smiling when ought to and nodding seriously when the discussion called for it. He kept an eye on Wangji all the while, worried for how wordless he had been since they both arrived at the foot of the tower.

Although, perhaps the reason for his silence was not so difficult to guess at. Lan Xichen had come and gone many times between Lanling and Gusu in the past three and a half months, and still he could not look upon the entrance hall of the Tower without remembering Wei Wuxian's terrible anger.

As luck or lack thereof would have it, they crossed paths with Jin Zixun while leaving Meng Yao's quarters.

"Ah, Zixun," Meng Yao said agreeably. "What brings you here?"

Jin Zixun froze at the sight of them. His face paled; his fingers clutched the front of his winter cloak until it closed tightly over his neck, almost chokingly so.

Considering the accusations leveled against him by Wei Wuxian, it was not a very good look.

Xichen bowed to him anyway in greeting. Wangji did not. When Xichen looked at his brother, he found him staring at Jin Zixun with such thinly-veiled disgust that all around should have been able to read it off of him.

Obviously, Jin Zixun was not yet this clever. "Meng Yao," he muttered, heedless of Wangji's burning hatred. "I need a word."

"Of course," Meng Yao replied. "Let me just see my guests out—"

"Now, you bastard."

If possible, the cold thickened around them all.

Meng Yao never showed so much as a hint of offense, however. He bowed his head with a smile, saying, "Very well. Er-ge, Wangji, I'm afraid I have to leave the both of you now."

"I look forward to seeing you again soon, A-Yao," Xichen replied, bowing in kind. "Take care."

Wangji did nod at Meng Yao, albeit very curtly. Jin Zixun spared him one furious glare before stomping loudly away, apparently expecting his cousin to follow in his steps unquestioningly.

Their walk out of the Tower was uneventful, after that. Wangji said nothing at all until they were far from the city and flying through icy winds; he shivered, however, which prompted Xichen into offering that they make a stop on their way back home and spend the night in Yiling.

Wangji seemed a little shocked at his words. Lan Xichen only understood why once they set foot onto the ground again and his eyes landed upon the cart of a vendor in the street, which bore many unsightly paintings of a man.

The Yiling Patriarch, each of the pictures read.

Of course. Yiling was where Wei Wuxian had elected to live after running away from his sect.

The portraits looked nothing like Wei Wuxian at all—they showed many variations of a same untoward design, when Lan Xichen had never known Wei Wuxian to be less than handsome, even after the war when he had looked so ill. The merchant who sold them was in the middle of telling tales of the Yiling Patriarch to a ground of children; he seemed to be under the impression that Wei Wuxian was of a different status as well.

"He builds himself a court of stolen omega; they say his palace runs with them, that he comes and steals them from under their spouses' noses so he can marry them all instead…"

"Ridiculous," said Wangji through clenched teeth.

He left, turning his back to the spectacle entirely. Lan Xichen followed behind him a little more measuredly, but then Wangji was speaking up again, saying, "I'll go back to the Cloud Recesses now."

"Very well," Lan Xichen replied. "I feel tired, I shall rest here for the night, but I'll see you and Uncle tomorrow, Wangji."

Wangji nodded and mounted Bichen anew. The white glare of the blade vanished near-instantly against the blinding clouds, and the sandalwoodscent of him lingered only long enough for Xichen to breathe in and out once.

It was not difficult to guess why his brother would have wanted to flee such a place.

For the past three and a half months, such rumors had crawled over all the cultivation sects like a disease: Wei Wuxian is fomenting evil plots of overtaking the sects. Wei Wuxian has holed himself within the legendary Burial Mounds of Yiling. Wei Wuxian is roaming the lands and breaking open omega houses, stealing their inhabitants unscrupulously, taking away from the riches of many clans and villages.

Lan Xichen had no idea what to make of it all. The only thing he knew for sure was just how upset Wangji had been after the discussion conference; how sick he had looked with anger and grief, when after Wei Wuxian had left and taken a camp of Wen sect prisoners with him, Jin Zixun had called upon all present to 'put an end to this ill-bred omega'.

He had felt no sympathy for Jin Zixun then, even with the purpling bruises at his throat. Though he knew not if Wei Wuxian had told the truth when he accused Jin Zixun of raping an omega, there was no mistaking Wei Wuxian's own hatred for a deception. Wei Wuxian whole-heartedly believed in what he was saying at the time.

The village they were in was small, spread only over two streets and a handful of faraway houses. Winter this year had been a cold and unforgiving affair, and even so near the end of it, all who walked outside were wound in all manners of cloaks and hats. They advanced through the frozen air hunched forward to ward it off.

No doubt this was the reason Lan Xichen took no notice of yet another hunched figure by a grey wall—at least until he walked by it and a familiar voice called, "Lan Zhan?"

He stilled. He turned to the man who had just called his brother's name. He thought faintly that it must be a play of words on the cold wind, or that his thoughts had been plagued by Wei Wuxian enough to make him mistake another voice for his.

But it was Wei Wuxian. Pale and sickly and with bruises under his eyes twice the size of those he sported the last time they met, but it was him, leaned onto a house wall, clutching a bag full of vegetables to his middle.

Wei Wuxian seemed only to recognize him after Xichen regained enough of a mind to speak. "Zewu-Jun," he said, straightening his back.

His eyes seemed unfocused. He blinked once, twice, till they finally met Xichen's in full.

"Young master Wei," Lan Xichen greeted belatedly.

An odd smile twisted Wei Wuxian's mouth. "Are you here to kill me, then?" he asked in such a light voice that at first, Xichen did not understand his words at all.

Before he could even think of answering him, Wei Wuxian changed the topic completely. "I thought I'd seen Lan Zhan pass by a little while ago," he said. "I suppose the two of you look very similar from afar."

"My brother was here only a few minutes ago, but he's gone ahead to Gusu," Lan Xichen replied. And then, "Young master Wei, what happened to you?" he asked, unable not to let worry slip in-between his words.

It was even clearer, now that Wei Wuxian was no longer hunched in on himself—he looked ill. Not simply sick and too-thin as he had in Lanling or at the end of the war, but ill, with fever-sweat running down his temples and tremors shaking through the bag he kept held against himself tightly. He hardly seem to even notice those tremors; he hardly seem to notice Xichen at all, what with the way his eyes opened and closed and looked around blearily.

"Are you here to kill me?" Wei Wuxian asked again.

His tone was so odd when he said it that Xichen could not help but shiver. "No," he replied in shock. "No, I—I was only passing by. I had no idea that you were here."

"Haven't you heard," Wei Wuxian said dryly. "All of Yiling is mine, now."

He sounded like he was in pain.

There was no injury that Xichen could see on him, not even so much as a scrape, nothing at all but how deathly pale he was. But Wei Wuxian's voice came with the same quality that those in agony exuded. His arms squeezed the bag he was holding so tightly that Lan Xichen knew, without needing to ask, that it was taking all of his strength not to cry out.

He stepped closer. "Young master Wei," he murmured insistently, "is anyone here with you?"

"Why should I tell you, Lan Xichen," Wei Wuxian let out.

It gave Xichen pause for a moment. Wei Wuxian had never addressed him so rudely before, not even once, not even when Xichen had known his uncle to be targeting him in class and done nothing to stop him. It was only too easy to notice, however, just how Wei Wuxian was cringing by the wall again—just how quick and whistling his breathing had become.

For some reason, he did not want Xichen to be helping him with whatever was wrong with him.

Xichen sighed. "I will leave as soon as I can ascertain that you are not about to die, young master Wei," he told him. "It's quite obvious that you're unwell."

Wei Wuxian said nothing.

"I only wish to know if you have someone with you to help. Is there a doctor in this town, someone who could—"

Before he could finish, Wei Wuxian's legs gave from under him.

"Young master Wei!" Lan Xichen called, crouching by him in the muddy snow.

It seemed he had simply slid with his back against the wet wall rather than fallen outright; but even so, a grunt of unmistakable pain escaped him and made Xichen's heart shake with worry. He put a hand just shy of touching Wei Wuxian's nose in order to feel him breathe. He called him again and again, going so far as to touch his shoulder and shake it slightly in spite of his own shame, as to call his name in full—"Wei Wuxian, Wei Ying, can you hear me?"

But there was no answer. Wei Wuxian sloped against the wall and looked like a corpse himself, and then Lan Xichen looked down and saw that blood had stained the snow that he was sat upon, and a taste like iron weeped over his tongue acridly.

"I'm sorry," Lan Xichen whispered, pushing the words out in spite of everything.

He was thinking both of Wei Wuxian's status and of his own upbringing.

You must never touch them.

He picked the unconscious Wei Wuxian up by his back and the crook of his knees. Even if worry and fear were not eating him alive, he would have found the man terribly light, and lighter still when the bag he had held against him all this time fell abandoned by his feet.

Wei Wuxian regained consciousness as Lan Xichen was carrying him around the village, out of view of the people who braved the winter wind to go about their daily activities. He shook with a terrible tremor, and then tensed so tightly that Xichen's hold on him nearly slipped.

"What," he slurred. "Who—"

He seemed to recall their meeting, then; or perhaps he simply saw Xichen's face above him, and the sight was enough to make him push against him in a rage.

Lan Xichen thought he must have said something, too lowly and furious for him to decipher, but then Wei Wuxian was on the ground again and retching painfully. When Xichen crouched by him, Wei Wuxian kicked him away.

"Get away from me," he said, crazed-looking, saliva dripping from his open lips above the spot of snow he had tainted with clear bile.

Lan Xichen could hardly care that his uniform would be stained with water and mud. He could not look away from the sight of this pale-faced and terrified Wei Wuxian, and it did not even occur to him that the place where he had been kicked was now throbbing with pain.

"Young master Wei," he tried to say.

Wei Wuxian recoiled as if hit, his bare hands slipping against melted snow. "Get away from me!" he roared.

"You're sick, I can't leave you here—"

"I would rather die," Wei Wuxian spat at him, "than let another alpha touch me."

I am not alpha, Lan Xichen thought hazily; but he saw the terror writ so starkly over Wei Wuxian's face, and he remembered the hatred which had suffused the wide hall of Golden Carp Tower months ago, when Wei Wuxian had come in wrought in shadows and called Jin Zixun a rapist.

Whoever Wei Wuxian was seeing now, whatever memory of his was cutting his body apart with fear, it was not Lan Xichen's doing.

Xichen realized that his own air was coming in thinly. That an ache had developed below his throat and constricted his lungs. He breathed in shakily, slowly, and said, "Let me help you. Please."

For a second, he thought Wei Wuxian may attack him. His grey eyes were swallowed in black, unseeing. His frostbitten hands were pulled into fists by his sides, red and dried by the cold snow. He stared at Lan Xichen like a wild animal about to jump at his own predator in a last try for escape.

Then, he breathed. His mouth opened laxly, his hands loosened, his back bowed unto itself. He slid sideways onto the snowy ground, curled in on himself like a child, and pain was the only thing anymore that could be read off of his face.

"Wen Qing," he said. His eyes closed against another ache of his body, no doubt, before he found the strength to continue: "She came with me. She said she'd wait for me at the inn."

"I'll take you there," Lan Xichen promised.

He had no idea how Wei Wuxian knew Wen Qing, the famous doctor of Qishan, but if she was here—if she was someone that Wei Wuxian felt safe enough to allow to examine him—then Xichen would not look a gift horse in the mouth. He approached the man slowly and carefully, making sure at all times to keep both hands far from the sword at his hip.

"Can you walk by yourself, young master Wei?" he asked once he was but a step or two away.

Wei Wuxian shook his head, eyes closed. His lips looked almost as pale as the snow he was laid upon.

This time, Lan Xichen did not apologize as he touched his arm. He slid it above his shoulders and rose slowly, pulling Wei Wuxian's weight up with him. Despite how thin he was, he felt heavy now against Xichen's side as they struggled through mud and snow in direction of the village's only inn. Wei Wuxian said nothing at all to him, though his body occasionally shook greatly.

There was an alpha woman waiting in the dining room of the establishment. She was wide-eyed and tall, the pepper-like scent of her almost warm after the freezing cold outside, and when she saw the both of them enter, she dropped the tea she had been drinking.

Her chair creaked against the wooden floor when she rose. "Wei Wuxian," she called, all but forgetting Xichen's own existence as she rushed to their side.

She took Wei Wuxian from him with no ceremony. In spite of his earlier words, Wei Wuxian showed no reluctance to be assisted by her up the stairs and to the bedroom he must have bought for the night, and even went so far as to grab her by the wrist after she laid him upon the bed.

"Wen Qing," he called weakly.

"What happened?" she asked. "Were you attacked?"

"He collapsed," Lan Xichen told her.

She turned to him in faint surprise, having forgotten that he was here at all.

Lan Xichen told himself not to stare at the pathetic slump of Wei Wuxian's body over the bedsheets. He looked at her instead, bowing quickly at the shoulders in greeting. "I met him by chance outside," he said. "He looked to be in pain. He's been vomiting as well, and I saw blood—"

He interrupted himself.

"Where?" Wen Qing asked him. "Where was he bleeding?"

"I'm—I'm not certain."

But he knew, did he not? He knew where that blood had come from.

Wen Qing must have seen something on his face, or perhaps she was simply that good of a physician, for she immediately started stripping Wei Wuxian down.

Lan Xichen turned away from them with blood rushing up his face hotly. It was not enough to mask the sound of struggle behind him, as Wei Wuxian held her back and said, "Don't look," with the voice of a man who knew exactly what was wrong with him.

"Why didn't you tell me," Wen Qing moaned. "Why on earth didn't you tell me—"

Lan Xichen left the room.

He did not leave the inn. He did not even leave the hallway beyond the door; his legs shook under his weight the second the panel closed behind him, and he had only the strength to drag himself to a wooden chair sitting by an unlit candle before he was the one to collapse.

A few minutes later, Wen Qing came out of the room as well. She hurried past him and down the stairs, coming back up a moment later with two buckets full of steaming water and a pile of clean sheets, and Lan Xichen did not make the mistake of looking at her face or asking her any questions.

What voice could he have asked them with anyway? His throat felt swollen and clogged, and it was all he could do to breathe at all.

His left hand was stained with blood.

Wen Qing did not ask for his help in any way as she worked, and Lan Xichen did not offer it to her. He felt that night had fallen, though there were no windows in the corridor—only the candle which a tenant had lit when he had come upstairs earlier. He felt that only a few hours had passed between the second he had seen Wei Wuxian and the second he heard what he had to.

The fog-like haze that he had been under broke at the sound of crying; and Lan Xichen suddenly breathed, the way one did after breaking out from underwater—greedily and sobbingly—and bent over his own knees till his hands could press against his own forehead and temple. Till he felt the ribbon there twist and loosen under the strength of his grip.

He closed his eyes so tightly that his jaw ached, and still he could not stop seeing Wei Wuxian's face oversnow; still he could not stop thinking of Wangji and feeling grief tear through him like nausea.

Wen Qing found him like this when she exited the bedroom. The awful sound from within had ceased some while ago whilst Lan Xichen's mind had gone. She sat on the floor beside his chair with a thump. Her legs and hands became visible to him through the gap between his own thigh and elbow, and he saw that they were stained with blood, too.

Lan Xichen wondered if ever he would look at his own palms again and feel that they were clean.

"He would never believe me," Wen Qing said, breaking apart the silence. "But for his sake, I am not above kneeling."

"Do not," Lan Xichen replied.

His own voice felt foreign to him.

"I will never speak of what I saw here today," he went on after a shuddering breath. "Not to anyone."

"He never wants to see you again."

Xichen let his hands fall away from his face. He knew that his skin would be red where he had pressed onto it, trying and failing to push the knowledge of the past few hours so deeply within him that they would be forgot.

"Then he won't see me," he said. "And if he does, if it can't be avoided, I will not speak to him."

Wen Qing nodded her head slowly. "Thank you," she whispered. "I will not forget this, Zewu-Jun."

The thought of being owed by her—by Wei Wuxian—for this made him feel sick again. He said nothing of the kind to her, not knowing how she would take it, but he knew he would never call upon that debt. Not even if his life depended on it.

He rose from the chair. His whole body felt tense and sore, as if he had trained with the sword for days rather than sat upon hardwood and waited for time to pass. Wen Qing did not stand to bid him goodbye, and he held her in no resentment for it, knowing how tired she must be.

Xichen tried to say, "I'll pay for your stay—"

"No," she interrupted, curt and heavy. "No, master Lan, I think you should just leave and forget about us."

She rested her head against the wall at her back. The flickering candlelight dug shadows out of her skin, out of the dip of her neck, where somehow blood had also found a way to stain her.

Finally, when he could not stand it anymore, Lan Xichen asked: "Who was it?"

Wen Qing laughed.

Lan Xichen suffered in silence the sight of her shaking above the floorboards of the inn, the jumping of her chest and shoulders which could have looked like sobs to anyone standing further away.

"Does it matters?" she asked him after she had caught her breath. "Does it matter who did it? It was all of them. Every single one of them. It's all of you every time one of you does it, and when it happens to one of us, it happens to all of us."

She said, "This is the only true difference between us all."

[PREVIOUS] [NEXT]

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #fic: and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow #featured

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helperfromabove · 3 years

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Elisa Lam, Cecil Hotel, Cold Case ? Or really an Accident ?

I am currently a student of Criminal justice system and Criminology.

At first I am very interested to know that how did the corners' office in Netflix Depiction of the actual tragedy showed; that Elisa Lam drowned accidentally? I mean is there a difference between being drowned accidentally and someone pushing you in the water? I mean if a person doesn’t know how to swim. Either way his or her death will be put as accidental, wouldn’t it? There are so many cases where by the use of new technologies old cold cases are brought to light or where courts realized they made wrong judgement and put someone away for a crime they never did commit. As an individual, one might feel that, we need everyone to support the idea that technology is actually helping police officers and departments open up old cold cases and helping people that had no idea something could be possible by science back in 2013. And secondly in my opinion, as an individual I do have a mental disorder, and I have been drunk and high from time to time which I know now and believe were one of my very bad decisions I had made over the past years. But whichever disorder one has, how does it make them walk out the elevator, Climb a set of stairs towards the hotel roof door, to access the roof without raising security alarms at the front desk. And then, they Climb up-to the water towers and not the one near the door of roof top but rather the one further away. Because if the water tower near to the door of the roof had any decomposition of living tissue, since the hatch was open as you can see in the show as well. I hardly would believe a dog might miss that. And that door is always shut except for being used by authorized personnel only. And if that door is opened, an alarm at the front security desk is something that usually goes on.

As much as I love Police officers on what they do and protect us. I honestly believe this case should have been given to the Elite service like FBI and RCMP. If you did see the Netflix show depiction it shows Water towers have a bit of sloppy edges. If you are disoriented due to medication or illusions I don’t think your brain makes you harm your self-like only a Hit-man would do. Plus why in the world would someone drowning in a water tower during cold winters would have to take off their clothes? It doesn’t make sense! Or doesn’t? (”Although I do know a symptom of getting high on Epsom salts and meth can make your body feel super hot, and gives you superhuman strength, and during that duration one cannot feel the cold even its in the minus. That condition is known as “excited delirium.”Although it is just an example, which is nothing to do anything with Elisa Lam ”) Lastly, my question is how come a former employee goes up to the water tanks and only seems to see one of the Panel or hatch of water tanks opened? And only the one further away, the one with the victim in it. Plus, If he had a thought that there was a possibility of something like that, why would he keep it to himself? Why not share it with the police during their initial search or investigations? Or, many be in reality,he just went up there to actually remove the victims body so he or the anonymous someone paid him to transport it elsewhere, but couldn't as we all know that even after a long shower our skin feels like it very soft and if we had stayed in water a little longer it might get cut or drop off. I mean, if he was there doing his job as a maintenance crew it might makes sense. But even in Netflix depiction it just says a former employee. What that tells us yeah absolutely nothing, besides, that he worked there! But questions are which department? Which floors was under his responsibility? Was he part of maintenance team or restaurant staff? Or maybe he was send there by someone else. The question is who? Anonymous someone the possible hit-man??? Or the manager who is someone that even the show points out to be suspicious?

But in reality do all hotel employees do that? I don’t think so, I believe if you are part of maintenance crew yes you can go to water tanks to fix something. But common sense speaks its very likely to be part of an inside job. I think Police did what they could do, people tend to think that Police didn’t do much or they could have done more. The issue is the ratio of Police per Citizen of any city they serve to protect. Its horrible, in Canada for example we have more security guards than police officers. Another example I would give is; let's look at New York City the total population size is approx: 8.4 million people as of 2019 approx, and the number of police officers in New York are 36,000 officers as of 2019 and guess what, not half of them, is detectives. So if you do the math; the ratio that comes down is 1:235 I mean wow! So in reality its one Police officer is responsible towards the safety of 235 people!

So we can all agree that at the end police officers are not machines. They need rest, have mental stress and have seen so much worse things that we aren’t seeing because of their sacrifices. And their every day hard work to save other possible victims like Elisa Lam. But in this case, that even gathered world attention. I believe FBI would have been a much better fit for the investigation as they are experts in resolving cases far worse than something like what Elisa Lam became the victim of.

A couple of examples if they make sense why FBI is from my perceptive better option or a solution. 1)Remember one thing: “To hunt a Lion, you need other lions. Wolves aren’t made for that job"

2)Another example would be; if you want to hunt an Alpha down, you need an Alpha or pack of Alphas to do the job done. 3)Another example would be when army soldiers are not able to do a task to complete a mission. You hire a pack of Seals or Marines to complete that mission and with 100 % success.

That’s what I mean when I say, why FBI is more capable of helping as they are one of the best! “They should have given the charge!” Anyways it's little bit related to this topic but in past, there was a homicide in Ontario, Canada. Where land owner was murdered because she asked the delayed rent of 3 months to be paid or the renter must exist the apartment by end of the week. Or, she will call the cops and the city. The lease holding renter murder the poor land owner. Just because she asked him to pay due 3 months rent next week. In short by the end of 2 months of investigations, the Police were able to arrest the guy. And found the body buried in the front porch garden under the snow, which at the time was not possible since the cold weather was at its peak with heavy snowfall. The point is that the search dogs couldn’t pick the scent of the body. Why? No decomposition occurred. Which does conflict with my statement above about Police search dogs missed the scent of Elisa Lam. But in that scenario the lid or hatch was open and the water was cold not solid form. In the Ontario case the body was covered under pile of snow. That’s why dogs didn’t pick the scent. But again you all might agree, that below minus temperature does preserve our bodies, decreasing our body temperature to below minus as well, which stops the decomposition process. Like for example, they are doing now with crypt-o-freezing humans, so some of us can be brought back to life in let's say 100 years like Frankenstein or something. But in my opinion its very much a possibility that Elisa Lam death is not a accident, but its very likely that its a homicide.

And/or next best assumption or more of a question one of us or all of us should or could, ask our own conscious minds Would be “how would a possible Hit-man do a job? The answer would be : make something seem like an accident, which in reality is not an accident”

As an example : It happens in so many shows and movies that depict what some actual people are capable of, its not always necessary that geniuses /smart/ intelligence around us are always looking to help people, or save and protect the world. Its like having a power which can make you save lives or that one can be used in other ways period Share your kind opinions, and how many of you think it does speak of professional hit-man situation or inside job or an accident. Personally I would go with Hit-man and inside job or maybe both. A death that looks like an accident that isn’t as usual and normal way of suicide or death speaks of a hit-man job or a serial killer! Doesn’t it?

#elisa lam #fbi investigation #fbi cases #Elisa lam case #Elisa lam Cold cASe

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nebulacorps · 4 years

Photo

SAMPLE APP

here is another sample app! if vorna’s sample app is an example of the minimum we’re looking for in an app, this app is the opposite! you do not have to write this much or expand the skeleton to the same degree. but if that’s where the muse calls you then we would be happy to see it! this app was written by my lovely co-admin rion! i hope it helps!

STATS

Chosen skeleton: The Technician

Full Name: Tergi Daxu

Age: 12

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Species: Alien ( Prequian )

Faceclaim: Rocket Raccoon

HEADCANONS

( + ) : dependable, hardworking, vigilant, paternal

( - ) : blunt, critical, controlling, stressed

Tergi has been in the Nebula Corps for ages now. He came on as a junior technician when he was five, and has never had another job. It’s the same job his own father had when he was a kid, and it was from him that Tergi learned the skills he needed to do it well. He lacks any sort of formal higher education — save for on the job training, but he’s damn good at what he does and… not much else. He understands the ship and what needs to happen to keep it running, but that’s always been enough. That’s why there are other crew members, to even everything out. It’s a carefully balanced system, one that Tergi has seen work well for seven years now. Every team has run with ease. Every team, that is, until the last one. Tergi had what one might call irreconcilable differences with the engineer. A distaste for each other quickly became a glorified pissing match which escalated with unprecedented speed. It almost cost the team the mission, damaged the integrity of the ship they had been stationed on, and ended with both Tergi and the engineer being severely reprimanded.

He’s practically a veteran, nearing the age of retirement (if not having already passed it), reliable as any of the technicians in the Nebula Corps, and should have a place on Team Alpha by now, if it weren’t for the dark spot on his record. He’s in the second half of his life, he’s got three kids and a wife, he just wants to go home, but he needs the retirement benefits that Nebula Corps offers so he’s sticking it out for a few more missions. Even if he’s on some low priority team. He was not expecting Team Proxima. He was not expecting a pilot to go rogue before the mission even began. He was not expecting for anything to happen that could overshadow the dark spot he already had. Yet, here they are, committing what is essentially piracy, on an unapproved mission, no backup…. he could go on about the aspects of the mission that worry him, but with a sigh he’s realized he has to make this work. If there’s any chance of him getting a good retirement, this mission needs to be more than a success; it has to be done so well that Nebula Corps will be forced to forgive the circumstances under which it began.

The problem? Well, the crew itself seems to be (as far as Tergi can tell) just as chaotic as their pilot. If he wants this to go well, it’s going to take a lot of work on his part. He does his best to explain that if everyone was just a little more careful things would go a lot smoother.

COOL ▰ ▰ ▱ ▱ ▱ : tergi really tries his best to keep a level head. he knows it would be better for his job if he could, and he tries his best. however, tergi has always been prone to stress ( and team proxima raises such feelings without even trying ) . likewise, as was the case with the engineer on his last team, certain personalities can dig their way under his skin and cause him to lash out, though he usually will not make the first strike.

CHARM ▰ ▰ ▱ ▱ ▱ : there’s a sort of awkward paternal charm to tergi. in his bluntness and clumsiness with interpersonal interactions, he can be somewhat endearing. however, at the end of the day he is brutally honest and doesn’t often think about how his words might affect his crew mates, and has a habit of putting his foot in his mouth without even realizing it.

SHARP ▰ ▰ ▰ ▱ ▱ : tergi might not be book educated, but where it counts, he knows what he’s doing. he’s been taking care of nebula corps ships for over half of his life now, and at this point it is almost second nature.

TOUGH ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▱ : there’s a particular constitution that prequians ( and, although he doesn’t want to hear about, their earth born counterparts ) are known for, and tergi is no different. add that to the fact that he’s used to the little accidents that come when working on a ship, along with being an active member of the nebula corps for 7 years, he’s a pretty resilient little guy.

ARSENAL ▰ ▰ ▱ ▱ ▱ : tergi isn’t completely unprepared if it comes to blows, but he’s certainly not the most powerful fighter on the ship. he can hold his own for a little while, just long enough to hopefully get himself out of trouble. the truth is, he’s getting old; he’d rather avoid fighting altogether.

LASERS VS FEELINGS : 5 : tergi definitely has “dad energy” but that dad is awkward, stressed, and doesn’t totally understand the best way to interact with people. he can be a bit controlling, as he wants to make sure this mission goes as well as possible ( with the ship making it through in peak condition ) and isn’t really sure how to impart how important that is to him to the others. he’ll say the wrong thing without even realizing it, but is much better at solving problems that have to do with the ship.

CORE TRAIT : DEPENDABLE : save for the last mission, tergi has been one of the most reliable engineers in the nebula corps, but it isn’t just that he’s dependable in his work ethic. even though he isn’t great with feelings, he is a good friend to have. he shows his love by fixing things for you, or by listening ( though he’s likely to say something ill advised or a strange platitude that doesn’t totally make sense after ).

MOTIVATION : KEEP THE SHIP INTACT : if the mission goes well, and the ship is in peak condition when it is returned, tergi can hold out hope that he won’t be held responsible.

PLOTS

I’m excited to see Tergi grow to accept the team. I think right now he’s reluctant team dad because it benefits him. He needs them to do well so that the mission goes well nad he can get what he needs to retire. I think through the course of the group he’ll come into more of a “team dad because I care about my ragtag children crew” vibe.

I have the urge for the more .. reactionary version of Tergi that exists to pulled into play, the one who got into trouble due to his fight with the engineer on the last team. Something that would push him over the edge for sure would be damage to the outbound communication systems. I think, if this is possible, Tergi has been keeping in touch with his wife and kids pretty regularly, and cutting him off from that would really push him to be very upset, both personally and professionally. Additionally, the outbound comms being down might have a bunch of other more group wide implications.

For the drama… and this would have to happen near the end because it would require Tergi to be close with the team to a point where this would actually be a hard choice, but making Tergi choose between honorable recognition within the Neubla Corps and supporting the team. Perhaps there’s an offer to expunge his record in exchange for revealing their location to HQ, or something similar.

SPECIES INFO

Parallel evolution is an interesting thing. The Prequians come from an Earth-like, although generally more advanced, planet. They evolved similarly to the Earth Racoon for similar reasons, but managed to develop further than their counterparts. They have their own language, cultural organization (which values family very highly), and outlive the average Racoon in the wild by about 17 years. Similarities continue between the two species in that the Prequians are scavengers, but not just for food. Small hands (With opposable thumbs! Suck it trash pandas!) were found to be perfect for dealing with delicate pieces of technology. They built up their own society by using discarded tech from other species and improving upon it. While not all Prequians take part in this, it is a large part of their society and how they got to where they are currently.

Species stat wise, I imagine them as similar (though not identical) to Rock Gnomes in DND 5E, with some Racoon vibes thrown in to even it out. Here’s some details!

Favored abilities: Prequians tend to be intelligent and hardy.

Lifespan: The same as the Earth Racoon when in captivity, the average being 20 years. If I’m doing my math right here that makes Tergi basically 60 human years old. He would very much like to retire soon.

Size: Between 24 and 38 inches, weighing between 14 and 25 lbs. Tergi is 40 inches and it is more important to him than it should be.

Speed: Little legs, so not super fast when just walking, but on all fours pretty zippy! Can run up to speeds of 15 mph, though not for very long.

Other notes: Tend to be good swimmers, can see decently well in the dark, amazing sense of touch, colorblind, naturally nocturnal but can adjust. Due to the colorblind aspect, Tergi uses little tags to mark wires on the ship where color is important.

ANYTHING ELSE

Here’s a pinterest board !

Here’s a muse tag !

TV Tropes: Book Dumb, Bezerk Button, The Comically Serious, The Complainer Is Always Wrong, Control Freak, Crippling Overspecialization, Dude Where’s My Respect?, Happily Married, Hard Work Hardly Works, Only Sane Employee, Not So Above It All, Parental Substitute, Standard ‘50s Father, The Reliable One, White Sheep, Workaholic,

Character inspiration: Bob Belcher (Bob’s Burgers), Dr. Cdr. Ryan Dalias (EOS 10), Michael Bluth (Arrested Development), John Yossarian (Hulu’s Catch 22)

#sample app

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junker-town · 4 years

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The defining Browns moment of each year in the 2010s

The Cleveland Browns did not finish with a winning record in any year of the 2010s.

All hail the only NFL team to get through the 2010s without a winning record.

Ten years, 117 losses, 17 starting quarterbacks, zero winning seasons.

Welcome to the Browns’ decade of sadness. Cleveland played host to the league’s most miserable franchise, one that managed to shatter expectations both low and high.

But while the Browns were terrible, each season was a unique snowflake in the 2010s crap blizzard that descended upon northeastern Ohio. Cleveland was subject to a decade in which even its peaks became woefully depressing. And just when the Browns appeared to be turning a corner, the football gods led them off the cliff again like a state full of Wile E. Coyotes.

How did we get here? Let’s examine every straight line and gently listing curve that led the Browns from very bad to awful and then back to very bad over the past decade, year by year.

2010: Eric Mangini is fired, loses will to coach

Starting quarterbacks added to the jersey of shame (and their record as a starter): Colt McCoy (2-6), Jake Delhomme (2-2), Seneca Wallace (1-3)

Eric Mangini, who once parlayed his wunderkind head coaching success into a cameo role on The Sopranos, plummeted out of the NFL’s coaching stratosphere after getting fired by Cleveland. He spent just three of the last nine years on an NFL sideline. A stint in San Francisco ended with his dismissal from a club eager to hand the reins to Chip Kelly, which, eeeesh.

There’s no evidence to suggest coaching the Browns sapped his will to coach ... but that certainly seems like the most likely scenario. Several coaches have taken the risk of helming the Browns. Few have ever been as irreparably damaged as Mangini was. And he might be the best coach Cleveland had this decade.

2011: Peyton Hillis makes the cover of Madden, promptly turns to dust

Starting quarterbacks: McCoy (4-9), Wallace (0-3)

Hillis was a surprising high point in Cleveland’s 2010. The 2008 seventh-round pick, a throw-in to Denver’s trade offer for Brady Quinn (ew), emerged as the Browns’ top runner in an 1,177-yard, 11-touchdown campaign. That led him to the top of EA’s fan vote for the following year’s Madden cover, and the Cleveland back immediately lent credence to the game’s vaunted curse.

Hillis and his 4.64 40 time couldn’t baffle defenses for long. He ran for just 587 yards and 3.6 yards per carry for a four-win Browns team in 2011. Cleveland declined to offer him a contract for 2012. It had better (read: much worse) plans in mind for its tailback spot.

2012: With two first-round picks, the Browns select ... Trent Richardson and Brandon Weeden

Starting quarterbacks: Weeden (5-10), Thaddeus Lewis (0-1)

Richardson quickly became Exhibit A in the case against taking running backs in the first five picks of the NFL Draft. While he ran for 11 touchdowns as a rookie, he averaged just 3.5 yards per carry as a Brown before being traded to the Colts, somehow in exchange for a first-round pick (which was quickly squandered, keep reading). He averaged 3.1 yards per carry in 1.5 seasons in Indianapolis and was out of the league by 2015.

Weeden, a sprightly 29-year-old rookie, was drafted before quarterbacks Russell Wilson, Nick Foles, and Kirk Cousins. He was selected with a pick Cleveland acquired when it traded down in the 2011 draft to allow the Falcons to select Julio Jones. This turned out to be a wise decision for Atlanta.

Weeden rolled up a career 31:30 TD:INT ratio and a 6-19 record as a starter. Like Richardson, he was wiped clean from the Browns’ roster before the 2014 season.

Mitchell Schwartz, the best player from the 2012 draft class, played four forgettable seasons as a starter at right tackle in Cleveland. The Browns made no discernible effort to re-sign him in 2016 and he’s since gone on to have three straight All-Pro seasons with the Chiefs.

2013: Brian Hoyer begins his claim as the decade’s best Browns quarterback

Starting quarterbacks: Weeden (0-5), Jason Campbell (1-7), Brian Hoyer (3-0)

Here are all six quarterbacks who’ve started at least 10 games for the Browns since 2010.

Hoyer is the only one with a winning record. He’s the only one who isn’t at least five games under .500 as a starter. He started 13 fewer games than Mayfield and still had one more fourth-quarter comeback than the franchise’s No. 1 pick of 2018.

The stats only tell part of the story, but from a purely win/loss scenario Hoyer was the most successful passer the Browns had this decade. This is especially notable, because he wasn’t a very good quarterback in any typical definition of the word. Also, good lord, this table. If QB stats were wines, this would be a warm bottle of Night Train Express.

2014: With two first-round picks, the Browns select ... Justin Gilbert and Johnny Manziel

Starting quarterbacks: Hoyer (7-6), Manziel (0-2), Connor Shaw (0-1)

Holy crap holy crap holy crap it happened again! Cleveland’s two first-round players in 2014 would be out of the league by the end of 2016. The Browns traded up one spot from No. 9 to No. 8 in order to select Gilbert. He lasted two years in Ohio before being traded to the Steelers and would make three starts in three years as a pro. Anthony Barr, the player Minnesota chose one selection later, made four straight Pro Bowls between 2015 and 2018.

Gilbert’s fading star is nothing compared to Manziel’s, however. The Heisman Trophy winner, drafted using the assets acquired in the aforementioned Richardson deal, was out of Cleveland after two seasons and two wins as a starting QB. Off-field issues swirled around the mercurial dual-threat passer, who was released by the team in 2016.

He’d take his talents up north to Canada before being effectively barred by the CFL. No one’s quite sure if he’ll show up in Vince McMahon’s XFL reboot in 2020, but given Oliver Luck’s public trashing of the former Aggie, (and McMahon’s “no arrests” rule for active players) it appears unlikely.

2015: Yoooouuuuuur Browns player of the year ... Gary Barnidge!

Starting quarterbacks: Manziel (2-4), Josh McCown (1-7), Austin Davis (0-2)

The Browns won three games, ranked 29th in the league in points allowed and 30th in points scored. Despite all that, there was only one truly disappointing loss on the team’s resume (to the 5-11 Ravens).

Instead, this year’s sigil of Browns misery was the team’s top skill player. Barnidge, a not-especially-athletic 6’6 tight end, had just 44 career receptions in his seven seasons in the league prior to 2015. Then, thanks to a WR/TE corps led by Travis Benjamin, Brian Hartline, and, uh, Jim Dray, Barnidge shot up to the top of the progression tree for whichever underwhelming quarterback happened to be in charge that week.

Barnidge tied for the team lead in targets (alongside Benjamin at 125) and led the team in receptions (79), receiving yards (1,043), and touchdowns (nine). His touchdown count would drop down to two the following year, and then he’d be released in 2017. He hasn’t played an NFL game since.

2016: Hue Jackson’s hired and then, somehow, not immediately fired

Starting quarterbacks: McCown (0-3), Cody Kessler (0-8), Robert Griffin III (1-4)

Jimmy Haslam, who purchased the Browns in 2012, fired Mike Pettine after the 2015 season (his 10 wins in Cleveland tie him for the franchise lead since 2008 with Mangini). He proved he was capable of making extremely Browns decisions by hiring away Marvin Lewis’ — the Bengals coach with the 0-7 postseason record — top assistant, Hue Jackson.

The former Cincinnati offensive coordinator oversaw a unit that scored 13 points or fewer eight times in his debut season. His offense had only three more touchdowns (28) than turnovers (25). He went 1-15 in 2016 and somehow got WORSE the following year.

2017: ALL OF IT

Starting quarterbacks: DeShone Kizer (0-15), Kevin Hogan (0-1)

Only two teams in NFL history have ever gone 0-16. Jackson’s Browns joined the 2008 Lions by virtue of losses to the five-win Jets, four-win Colts, four-win Texans, and five-win Bears. Cleveland’s offense scored just 14.6 points per game.

That group had 15 more turnovers than touchdowns. Ricardo Louis was the team’s most accomplished wide receiver; he finished the year with 27 catches, 357 yards and, fittingly, zero touchdowns.

Browns fans, acutely aware this may be the closest they’d get to an accomplishment in their lifetimes, threw a parade to immortalize their epic dive into failure. Jackson, retained after the season despite his 1-31 record, did not attend.

More raw parade video pic.twitter.com/vPwJnMIYNI

— Daryl Ruiter (@RuiterWrongFAN) January 6, 2018

During all this, Joe Thomas — future Hall of Famer and 10-time All-Pro — played his 10,000th consecutive snap. He’d suffer a season-ending triceps injury 363 snaps later. Having seen both the alpha (10 wins as a rookie) and omega (the aforementioned zero wins of 2017) of the Browns, he opted for retirement at age 33.

2018: The ascension of Freddie Kitchens

Starting quarterbacks: Tyrod Taylor (1-1-1), Baker Mayfield (6-7)

Jackson’s firing — after 2.5 seasons and a 3-36-1 record — gave way for Kitchens’ rapid ascension. He had never held down a job higher than quarterbacks coach in nearly two decades as an assistant, but his promotion to interim offensive coordinator helped Baker Mayfield realize his potential. A 5-3 finish had the Browns scraping a .500 record for the first time since 2007 (they’d fall just short at 7-8-1).

That was enough to convince Haslam to roll the dice and promote Kitchens to the top spot based on eight solid weeks of temporary coordinator excellence. All this created just enough hope to get Browns fans stuck in a vortex of their own (finally well-placed!) hype. Kitchens would spend the next season overseeing the league’s least disciplined team (see below) while crushing the hopes and dreams of any Cleveland fan foolish enough to have them in the first place.

He’d be fired after 2019’s disappointing campaign. The Browns went through seven coaches in the 2010s, including two that lasted only a single year (Kitchens, Rob Chudzinski) and interim coach Gregg Williams. None finished with more than 10 wins.

2019: Myles Garrett, who does not care for Mason Rudolph

Starting quarterbacks: Mayfield (6-10)

Mayfield came into 2019 with MVP hype and suddenly devolved into late-stage Philip Rivers. Kitchens’ team averaged more than eight penalties per home game before he was fired. Both Odell Beckham Jr. and Jarvis Landry publicly questioned the team’s decision-making on the sideline.

The Browns went from AFC North frontrunner to a spot in the draft’s top 10. That’s not what you’re going to remember from this season, however. Garrett’s primetime bashing of Rudolph is.

This is all ugly pic.twitter.com/9WQzcjZCCj

— CJ Fogler (@cjzero) November 15, 2019

There it is. There’s your decade of Browns football in one clip. An act of ugliness ultimately rendered pointless. The team’s best defensive player, in the midst of a possible (but unlikely) postseason run, hanging up his cleats for the season because he attacked a rival quarterback with his own helmet.

In terms of Cleveland schadenfreude, that might be considered a high note. And, in case that wasn’t enough, here’s your final quarterback count.

Mayfield will return for year three with Beckham, Landry, an eventually reinstated Garrett, and a brand new head coach in 2020.

Go Browns.

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tinymixtapes · 7 years

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Feature: 2017: Third Quarter Favorites

As we stumble into the final quarter of the year, TMT would like to temper the political incoherence and informational carelessness of the last few months with another transmission from our trusty quarter-list propaganda machine. And you, dear reader, are invited! Whether it was transcendental smackdowns (Young Thug) or moonlit ruminations (The National), unlistenable prayers (Lingua Ignota) or symbol play (Giant Claw), 2017’s summer sounds found our bodies trembling (Pan Diajing), swiped like a shoe along concrete ($3.33), and glowing with deceitful charm (White Poppy). It didn’t matter if it was coming from the Dar Es Salaam underground (Nyege Nyege Tapes), a modded 70s Speak & Spell (White Suns), or Jack Rabbit’s Palace (Twin Peaks); it didn’t matter if it was evinced by lurker auteurs (Nmesh), sonic ecologists (Avey Tare), or one Pretty Bitch (Lil B). In the face of an ever-increasing shitshow, the last three months of music carried on like if often does: with a mix of hope, absurdity, and some exquisite world-building, with hearts both heavy (death’s dynamic shroud) and gentle (Mark Templeton). The full list can be found below, but first check out our ridiculously long list of releases that didn’t make the feature proper. And thanks, as always, for reading! Shortlist: Yves Tumor’s Experiencing The Deposit Of Faith, Nate Scheible’s Fairfax, Tzusing’s 東方不敗, Jay Glass Dubs’s Glacial Dancehall, Shabazz Palaces’s Quazarz vs. The Jealous Machines, HKE’s HEEL AESTHETIC, Windy & Carl’s Blues For A UFO, Shabazz Palaces’s Quazarz vs. The Jealous Machines, woopheadclrms’s Meeting Room + Rare Plants (Ukiuki Atama), Youngboy Never Broke Again’s AI YoungBoy, Costanza’s George, Mount Kimbie’s Love What Survives, Femminielli Noir’s Echec & Mat, I am just a Pupil’s CRYSTAL PAIN, Léo Hoffsaes & Loto Retina’s Early Contact, Arve Henrikson’s Towards Language, Schneider Kacirek’s Radius Walk, S.W.’s The Album, Damien Dubrovnik’s Great Many Arrows, Alan Vega’s IT, chris†††’s social justice whatever, and Ariel Pink’s Dedicated to Bobby Jameson. --- Nmesh Pharma [Orange Milk] [WATCH · LISTEN · REVIEW] With Pharma, lurker auteur Nmesh has both legitimized and destroyed the vapor-non-genre, virus-like, from within. Now entombed in some lo-poly pyramid, we can see the ‘wave for what it was: a dig through the garbage-dump archives of the 1990s to recover, warp, and recontextualize whatever memories got lost beneath the pile. The samples and annotations would be nothing, though, without the music, and lucky for you Pharma delivered well on this front. Not only is this Nmesh’s best album to date, but these 26 tracks (plus many remixes) ran rings around an entire micro-era of electronic music, wearing it out until the soul within was revealed. Plus, how brazen is that Ferris Bueller sample? –Dylan Pasture --- Pan Daijing Lack [PAN] [LISTEN · REVIEW] Abstract music, even “noise” if you want, is too often discussed in relation to absence. Absence of harmony, of “form,” of the philosophy of separation underpinning musical tradition per se. I imagine that, in witnessing a performance by Pan Daijing, who discusses her music along the lines of embodiment and the “acting out” of sound, it becomes difficult to persist in this manner of speaking. With Lack, a document of that performance practice, she rattles the consciousness of the home listener from its critical distance back to where it belongs: the wanting, lurid presence of the body. “Practice of Hygiene” breaks words — “above, below,” “excuse me,” “why do I have to” — into moaning, groaning, and almost-human creaking, cradled in the bleed of a low, repeating piano note. A dissonant arpeggio dances for five minutes across “The Nerve Meter,” a synthesized pattern that seems to shake the receiver as if having passed through air from a nearby amplifier. At the climactic moment of “Lucid Morto,” the final track, delayed vocals combine with the unsure, three-note melody of a meaty trance lead. In different and captivating ways, this album takes advantage of the notion that sound is a physical encounter; its Lack is not of form or substance, but the one that lives in all of our hungering, trembling bodies. –Will Neibergall --- Milo who told you to think??!!?!?!?! [Ruby Yacht/Alpha Pup] [LISTEN · REVIEW] “Ghiath Matar is dead, roses are not armor,” goes the first rapped line, and if you’ve fallen into the trap of thinking that Milo’s strictly a “college rapper,” you might also be assuming that Ghiath Matar is the name of some ancient Eastern deity or the protag of a Russian fantasy novel. But it’s not. He was, I know now, a Syrian activist who gave flowers to soldiers, then was arrested, tortured and killed. The next line goes, “In my neighborhood, it was become a poet or a farmer.” Writing amazing, beautiful, weighty verse is part of Milo’s job, as is performing. But geeky flights of fancy aren’t gone, they’re just getting pointier. Also in the first song, he says, “Hold the self like J’Zargo in Winterhold,” referring, of course, to the fictional cat wizard and mage college in Elder Scrolls: Skyrim. Did I mention this is the album’s first verse? It goes deeper still, metaphors atop one another like racks. I haven’t cracked the seal on my vinyl copy yet, because it looks so snug sitting in its shrinkwrap beside Down With People’s self-titled album. One more unsolicited thought: if Nostrum Grocers ever drops, there are going to be a lot of professional poets out there burning their own chapbooks. –Samuel Diamond --- Avey Tare Eucalyptus [Domino] [LISTEN · REVIEW] Ever since Campfire Songs, we’ve known that Avey Tare is a sonic ecologist, attuned to the environments and relationalities that bloom and burble through his terraformed recordings. Lately, though, his work has dripped somewhere Down There, somewhere murky and suffocating, goopy and fecund. But, aerated and sun-drenched afresh in the Eucalyptus, Avey Tare sounds like he can breathe again. Awash but not overwhelmed, the atmospheres that populate Eucalyptus oxygenate the expansive melodies Portner has always nursed — from “Chocolate Girl” to “Amanita” — only this time, they can photosynthesize something delectable out of the coral, salt, soil, air that have always permeated, always tickled, always snickered. There’s a spaciousness in the hebetic sonic environments here, room to snuggle and inhale. Like the calyx that protects the budding eucalyptus flower, Eucalyptus chaperones us into a nourishing amnion. We can’t help but curl up and sink in. –Benjamin Eckman Bieser --- Various Artists Twin Peaks (Music from the Limited Event Series) / Twin Peaks (Limited Even Series Soundtrack) [Rhino] [WATCH · WATCH · WATCH] IRRATIONALLY ESSENTIAL. There’s no other way to put it. For Twin Peaks fans, this was the Summer of Frost/Lynch. We watched, listened, pondered, argued; we breathed it, ate it, shit it, and then sniffed the shit for more clues. By the time the 18-part series that first infected us back in May fully metastasized at the beginning of September, we were zombies. Our gray matter was hollowed into cheese by Dougie-Cooper’s Disease, characterized by the frenetic drive to bathe ourselves in anything connected with the story in any way — e.g., these two albums, featuring Angelo Badalamenti’s iconically eerie scores, plot-pregnant songs from each of the show’s Roadhouse bands, and a few of Lynch’s maniacal manipulations. Even now with the series in the spooky, Lynchian rear-view, the obsession lingers. The past dictates the future. There’s no going back. –Dan Smart [pagebreak] SADAF SHELL [Outside Insight] [LISTEN · REVIEW] An album gets called cinematic when the music elicits the feeling of a wide shot, of a soundtracked scene, of prestigious drama. SHELL is cinematic because it’s a movie. Vestigial, footgazing, inflammable, SHELL is a movie with no stars, a movie with no film, that unfolds in unfolding, getting ahead of itself. Even the pronoun is in the can before she means to. So you hear SADAF: just trust your eyes. Audition requires participation, and here, off the top of her head, participation means filmmaking. The unmaking of, in stereo. Although there are no bangers, there’s still the magic of SADAF’s multiplying VOICE, playing over scripts. (Little fires, drowning onscreen, disowned from the spark that lit the faucet. Its instructions crossing themselves out, the skipping noise and scraping strings roll like credits, hand in hand, like the tide, a substitute for reaching through to the other side.) “Though there is stillness, I can feel your heartbeat. Though I can’t see you, I can hear a sound.” Fear that you hear yourself, but you don’t listen. –Pat Beane --- Various Artists Sounds of Sisso [Nyege Nyege Tapes] [LISTEN] It’s fair to say that Uganda’s Nyege Nyege Tapes has left a rather sizeable imprint on the TMT hivemind this year (see: Otim Alpha, Mysterians, and first-quarter fave Riddlore http://j.mp/2g2GAt3

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gossipnetwork-blog · 7 years

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Veronica Lodge of 'Riverdale' Was Supposed to Be Just Another Brunette Bad Girl—Now She's Something Greater

New Post has been published on http://gossip.network/veronica-lodge-of-riverdale-was-supposed-to-be-just-another-brunette-bad-girl-now-shes-something-greater/

Veronica Lodge of 'Riverdale' Was Supposed to Be Just Another Brunette Bad Girl—Now She's Something Greater

Much has been made of the many changes Riverdale made to the original Archie comics mythology. In 2017 Archie isn’t a blithe doofus who lucked into the affections of not one, but two gorgeous women—now he’s a varsity football player with washboard abs and a budding songwriting career. Meanwhile, Miss Grundy is a sexy librarian of a music teacher, Josie and the Pussycats are a woke neo-soul group, Jughead is a brooding, budding-writer cutie with a way less lame hat, and, of course, Riverdale is the epicenter of a Twin Peaks–style murder mystery that seems to involve every citizen in the whole damn town. (I also don’t remember the comics featuring so much way-obvious Cover Girl product placement, but that’s a topic for another essay.)

While most of these changes are welcome in that they diversify the formerly white-bread town, humanize formerly two-dimensional characters—and hell, just make them hotter—there was one change that gave me very conflicted feels: the decision to de-villainize Veronica Lodge.

Years of exposure to formulaic TV means that even if you never touched an Archie comic, you still knew exactly what to expect the moment Veronica first stepped onscreen. She was the mysterious new girl in town, a raven-haired siren with a dark past, sophisticated enough to casually drop Capote quotes in the middle of Pop’s Chok’Lit Shoppe, beautiful enough to captivate Archie at the precise moment when sweet, pining Betty Cooper is trying to stammer out the old “What are we?” speech.

I’m not ashamed to admit that I had a near-Pavlovian reaction to Veronica’s appearance. When a girl like that steps out of a limo and into a suburban burger joint, you know it’s about to get real. Clearly, she was there to sprinkle some much-needed spice on bland old Riverdale, be Betty Cooper’s archnemesis, seduce Archie with her HBIC charisma, and entertain us with endless scheming and catfighting. Veronica Lodge had arrived—and I wanted her to get her bitch on in the baddest way.

Only, this Veronica is a lot more complicated than that.

This Veronica sweeps into town in a swirl of rumors about her not-so-well-kept secret: Her father, Hiram Lodge, was arrested in a high-profile fraud case that turned Veronica from—in her own words—“a shallow, toxic rich bitch who ruins everything in her path” into a laughingstock. Now she’s thoroughly “humbled” and determined to shed her bad-girl rep in Riverdale.

Dear reader, if you could have seen my face the moment Veronica announces her bad-girl-gone-good intentions, it would have looked exactly like this GIF.

How could this shady queen we had only just met be on the path of good? Why could there not be a Riverdale prequel set in 2015, in which we savor the sight of Veronica Lodge running her private New York prep school with an iron fist? This girl wears a sheath dress, stilettos, and pearls to high school—you know she can serve Georgina Sparks realness when she needs to. But if Veronica Lodge’s good-girl aspirations were almost a deal breaker, it’s only because of my lifelong love for a very specific archetype: the bad-girl brunette (we’ll call her BGB for short).

What is a BGB? She’s self-assured, headstrong, maybe a bit domineering (think Jackie on That 70s Show). Sometimes she’s troubled and weird (Allison Reynolds in The Breakfast Club), sometimes she’s rich, sophisticated, and wise beyond her years, making her a one-liner dispenser par excellence (Buffy’s Cordelia Chase). At her worst, she’s a scheming, unapologetically selfish alpha-bitch (Courtney Shayne in Jawbreaker or Dynasty’s Alexis Carrington). She’s often—and this is key—unapologetically sexy. Even more terrifying, she’s fully aware of her power over men (think Twin Peaks’ seductive schoolgirl Audrey Horne).

In short, the BGB knows what she wants and is not afraid to demand it. In a pop-culture landscape often lacking in complex depictions of women, it can be totally, vicariously thrilling to see a female character own her power and sexuality. And, OK, I’ll lay it out on the table: I’m a moody brunette weirdo myself and not ashamed to admit I get my life watching BGBs own the room. I’ve always found these characters easy to root for, even (or especially) when they’re a little bit evil.

Of course, not everyone feels that way about BGBs. For every person like me who eagerly breaks out the popcorn every time a ball-busting brunette steps onscreen, just as many people hiss. That’s because BGBs are often asked to play another, less glorious role—that of the rival to a perky blond lead.

Examples of the blond-versus-brunette trope abound in every form of pop culture, from TV and movies to teen lit. Think Beverly Hills, 90210’s drama-queen Brenda competing with poor little rich girl Kelly over Dylan’s affections. Cordelia Chase’s mean-girl wisecracks at Buffy Summers, who’s literally trying to save the world. Vivienne Kensington scheming to humiliate Elle Woods in Legally Blonde (like Reese Witherspoon in a Playboy Bunny costume is ever not winning). Haughty rich girl Lila Fowler stealing boys from Cali-queen twins Elizabeth and Jessica Wakefield in “Sweet Valley High.”

But the fact that the BGB’s selfishness and scheming makes them hated by some has always struck me as hypocritical. After all, the last 20 years of television have been defined by men exhibiting antisocial behavior that puts almost any raven-haired temptress to shame. Think Tony Soprano, a neurotic teddy bear with a body count to rival Jason Voorhees. Don Draper, who slept with and/or lied to 98 percent of the women in Manhattan. Or Walter White, who cut a ruthless path of destruction as he built an international drug empire. Next to these genuinely disturbed dudes, even the bitchiest, most backbiting BGB looks downright quaint. If we cut female characters the same slack we did men, these women—powerful, sexual, funny, and yes, sometimes even selfish or sadistic—would be celebrated antiheroes, not villainesses you love to hate.

PHOTO: Maarten de Boer

But back to the whole blond-versus-brunette thing. It’s as tired and misogynist as tropes get, which is why I’m glad Riverdale lives to upend it at every chance. Yes, Betty and Veronica circa 2017 have their ups and downs and petty jealousies over Seven Minutes in Heaven. And Veronica does want and (spoiler alert) eventually gets Archie. But beyond an early misstep, Veronica also takes pains to be respectful of Betty at every point, even swearing allegiance to her over Archie because, as V puts it, she feels like they “were meant to be best friends, like, it’s my destiny.” Betty eventually gets over Archie, starts dating Jughead (who’s hotter in my book anyway), and the four sip milkshakes in Pop’s like best buds. It’s all so heartwarming. Meanwhile, because Veronica and Betty aren’t wasting energy competing against each other for a dude’s attention, they can join forces to avenge actual injustices—from solving the murder that’s at the heart of season one to getting revenge on a bunch of sexist jocks who are slut-shaming girls at school.

So if Riverdale deprived me of a bitchy brunette antagonist, it gave me something much cooler and even kind of revolutionary. It dares to imagine a world beyond female competition, where women consciously decide to value each other, and to stomp all over the false good-girl, bad-girl dichotomy that holds us all down.

Season one ended with a new mystery and a slightly resparked rivalry, when Veronica notices Archie suddenly pining for Betty now that she’s with Jughead (ugh, dudes). But I’m pretty sure they’ll get over it and get on with the business of being badass, crime-fighting, injustice-exposing best friends. These girls prove that blond or brunette, heroine or villainess, girl next door or new girl in town, when women get along, they get shit done.

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Has Rick and Morty Lost the Zeitgeist?

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Rick and Morty season 5 is nearly upon us and, even among all the high-quality productions released at a rapid clip these days, the show still stands out as a unique television experience. Yes, there are a lot of amazingly well-crafted dramas (I’m looking forward to the conclusion of Better Call Saul) and this seems to be the heyday for brilliant comedies that actually turn out to be the most heartbreaking thing you’ve ever watched (I’m looking at you, PEN15). But truly great sitcoms that do what sitcoms are historically known to do—namely make you laugh a lot and endear you to a cast of characters—are rarer.

For those of us who grew up with the golden age of The Simpsons and like our sitcoms densely packed with clever, layered jokes, there’s a lot less out there. Bob’s Burgers and its offspring The Great North are pretty great, but there’s a simpler, gentler vibe to those. Their storylines are solidly constructed, they’re full of heart, and you can usually count on several laughs per episode (The Great North‘s Judy Tobin might be the most notable breakout comedy character since, well, Rick and/or Morty). However, they’re a far cry from the Simpsons tradition of semi-madcap, complex plotting and rapid-fire gags that hardly let you catch your breath.

The last series that gave me what I was looking for in a sitcom and then some was Community, created by Dan Harmon. At its peak, the scripts sang with tight, clever plotting; joke stacked upon hilarious joke; and characters so wonderfully charming they made you wish you’d been in a community college study group, it looked so damn fun.

However, there was also the “and then some.” Community wasn’t just retreading the ground worn by classic sitcoms past. As a product of a more media-savvy era, it packaged its earnest, heartfelt sitcom stuff in a self-aware, meta framework with the events of many episodes guided by classic genre tropes (the genesis of this parody/homage method of TV storytelling probably originated with the UK sitcom Spaced, but Community took the torch and really ran with it). Further in contrast to classic sitcom protocol was that Community made character and world development a cornerstone. Where old-school sitcoms—from I Love Lucy all the way up to The Simpsons—prioritized a familiar setting and characters who “reset” every episode so that new viewers could jump in at any time, Community (taking a cue from shows like Arrested Development but being quite different in execution) pushed the weirdness threshold of its universe further every season and the changes characters and their relationships went through weren’t just one-offs—they stuck and evolved the dynamic of the series as it progressed.

I was a champion of Rick and Morty before it even premiered. I’d followed Dan Harmon’s career from back when he was making things on the internet and my favorite thing he’d ever done that I will never shut up about was a series of animated shorts called Mr. Sprinkles, which was made in collaboration with Justin Roiland. Despite all the episodes adding up to little over twenty minutes total, it still featured everything I loved about Harmon’s work, packing a ton of worldbuilding and character development in at a breakneck pace.

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By Alec Bojalad

However, Roiland’s involvement added some new spices to the usual Harmon flavor: ultraviolence and gross-out humor, yes, but, more importantly, extremely dark, emotional lows and poignant—well, not quite highs—but bittersweet moments that hit hard. It was a powerful and unique combo that resulted in one of my all-time favorite pieces of media, so when it was announced the two would be working together again for a new series, I predicted it could very well be the best thing ever made.

And I was right! Well, at first, anyway. The first season of Rick and Morty is one of the most surprising and confident comedic works ever put on television. In true Harmonian fashion, it used his and the audience’s shared knowledge of sci-fi tropes to rapidly advance the development of its multiverse and characters and, Roiland-style, it shocked viewers with the devastating emotional depths it was willing to plumb (and it also had violence and lots of gross burping). Unfortunately, after that first season, Rick and Morty ran into some familiar problems.

The problems were familiar because they’d showed up previously in Community. That series evolved and pushed the limits of its world for three seasons and Harmon’s original plan was to keep following that trajectory and move the protagonists’ lives further outside the confines of the community college setting with the characters themselves embodying the community of the show’s title. However, before that could happen, Harmon was fired. Following an abysmal fourth season, he was rehired, but felt he had to reorient the series, which meant keeping the characters in community college for the remainder of the show’s run.

It’s understandable why Harmon felt he had to approach his return to Community this way but it’s also the reason that, even though the series was overall better with him back in charge, it never reached the heights it had in the early seasons. Community was about growth and change and, though it tried to get more experimental while staying within its old confines, there was a sad sense of stagnation hanging over the proceedings up until the end. In other words, the radical ambition of Harmon’s earlier work spelled doom for the later (perhaps unavoidably) safer stuff.

The problem that Rick and Morty faces is that it burned through its world and characters even faster than Community did before it. Again, it made for an incredible first season. It was a season that said: “Hey, you know these sci-fi tropes, right? God-like character who can do pretty much anything and can jump through an infinite supply of crazy universes at will? Well, since you already get it and we already get it, let’s just go for it.” And so, you have a season in which the protagonists use and abuse their sci-fi tropes so hard that only six episodes in they destroy their home universe and are forced to take shelter in another universe in which they’ve previously died. When a series so early on establishes that its protagonists can jettison their problems by starting up a new life in a whole new universe, how do you create satisfying conflicts anymore? Where do you go from there?

Look, I get that I might be taking the show’s sci-fi rules a bit too seriously. Rick comments that they can only start a new life in a new universe so many times, which, with endless permutations of universes available to them, doesn’t really make any sense, but that’s the point. The series doesn’t always want you to think of these sci-fi rules as concrete guiding principles. To wit, last season’s “Never Ricking Morty” seemed to poke fun at fans for expecting too much from serialization. If you don’t take what you’ve learned about the multiverse too seriously, Rick and Morty can just keep getting into trouble in all manner of crazy universes. But unfortunately, the development extends to the characterization as well.

Just as in Community, character development sticks and Rick and Morty are extremely different characters from the ones they were at the show’s start. Morty is far more jaded now, quite rightly; you’d be jaded too after burying your own corpse. In fact, the entire Smith family (except maybe Jerry) are sick of Rick’s crap and his position as the alpha is very much in question.

Rick and Morty certainly is, in part, a sci-fi cartoon sitcom that’s just trying to make you laugh, surprise you, and gross you out in each episode. However, its depth and ambition are what set it apart. It’s the pop culture phenomenon that it is because of how well-crafted it is and because of how unique and exciting it was that it was willing to go all-out in its first season. We’re endeared to the characters because it makes sense that an almost-all-powerful being like Rick would be cynical and pessimistic and that Morty would transition from a gee-whiz kid ready for adventure into a world-weary traveler who kind of hates his grandpa.

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As much as I see some fans claim the serialization should be ignored and is just the creators “trolling” (gosh, they sure put a lot of work into these episodes just to troll lil’ old me), I’m quite certain you’d find it very odd and annoying if Morty suddenly regressed to his pilot episode persona for no reason. In fact, this sort of happened back in season 2’s “Mortynight Run,” in which Morty caused a lot of death and destruction in his naïve pursuit to rescue a sentient fart cloud. I was actually fine with this episode myself as I felt Morty still retaining some naivete at this point was not entirely out of character, but a commenter noted that it felt like Morty was relearning a lesson he’d already learned, which I couldn’t really argue was incorrect. And, with everything Morty’s been through in subsequent seasons, it would only make less sense now for him to devolve back to his early, innocent form.

This means you get a lot of episodes in which Rick and Morty deadpan their way through threats, murdering up whatever gets in their way as though every otherworldly intergalactic threat is merely a nuisance to be brushed aside. This makes perfect sense after what we’ve seen these characters survive, but it’s not particularly exciting to watch, and gets old. It also makes sense that the Smith family are regularly antagonistic toward one another after all the sci-fi dysfunctionality they’ve been through, but that gets super unfun to watch and seems entirely at odds with what Rick and Morty is at its core: a sitcom. We’re supposed to be endeared to these people, not put off by them.

Rick and Morty has backed itself into something of a damned if it does, damned if it doesn’t situation. If it retcons all its character and world development, it’ll feel cheap and unfair, but if it maintains the status quo, we’ll be getting a lot more episodes where all-powerful beings who hate each other effortlessly whack-a-mole their way through conflicts (the trailers haven’t revealed a ton, but the tone unsurprisingly feels like it’s mostly sticking to the latter approach). Perhaps all the blame shouldn’t be put on Dan Harmon’s shoulders, but the problems feel like the same ones from Community. I must reiterate that I remain glad regardless that there’s a Harmon-helmed series on TV because, even if the conflicts are lacking and the characterization has gotten a bit stale, no one else is doing complex, breakneck plotting that stuffs gags into almost every possible moment.

Or at least that used to be true. There are now multiple writers out there who’ve emerged stronger from a Dan Harmon writing room. As a result, we’ve got Solar Opposites from Mike McMahan and Justin Roiland, which, unlike Rick and Morty, has (at least so far) managed to have its cake and eat it too with a core cast who follow the classic sitcom tradition of silly characters dealing with self-contained conflicts, but also a portion of every season’s runtime is dedicated to another group of characters’ concurrent, darker, more dramatic, serialized story.

McMahan is also the creator of Star Trek: Lower Decks and he’s brought his solid plotting and above-average joke-writing to that show, too. Michael Waldron started out as a writer’s assistant on Community and then wrote for Rick and Morty and Dan Harmon’s animated improv role-playing show HarmonQuest. He’s since he’s been brought aboard by Disney to write Loki, the upcoming Doctor Strange sequel, and the screenplay for Kevin Feige’s as yet untitled Star Wars film. Former Rick and Morty writer Jane Becker now has a Simpsons episode writing credit under her belt, which makes everything come nicely full circle (a la Dan Harmon’s famous story circle). Furthermore, there’s even a new Dan Harmon cartoon on the way called Krapopolis that I’m willing to bet will at least start out very strong and, if we’re lucky, this one won’t fall victim to the Harmon Curse.

Plus, the Harmon Curse is hardly absolute. In spite of its somewhat depressing twilight years, Community stuck the landing with a beautiful series finale and, similarly, Rick and Morty still totally works a lot of the time, e.g., I really enjoyed the season 4 finale specifically because it brought back serialization. Even though it often feels like the characters on this show hate each other or that there are no real stakes to the conflicts, sometimes it pulls off an episode that makes me forget all that and just have a good time.

It’s also not entirely impossible for Rick and Morty to reintroduce stakes and sitcom character likability. There’s the aforementioned fact that Rick’s standing in the Smith family is in flux, so there’s possibly emotionally resonant character stuff to wring out of there. And, though it certainly wouldn’t be good to overuse him, there’s always fan-favorite Evil Morty, whose dark influence seems to transcend universes, making him a palpable lurking threat to the titular duo.

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As Disney’s stranglehold over all of existence only grows more absolute and seemingly every other TV show is either a superhero show, a Star Wars spinoff, or an origin story series nobody asked for about a side character from a classic film, I remain glad a creative visionary like Dan Harmon is still in the business. We’ve got great Harmon-adjacent series like Solar Opposites and Lower Decks, plus another upcoming new Harmon show, and former Rick and Morty and Community writers all over the industry. Dan Harmon’s unique influence reverberates throughout modern media and our entertainment is all the better for having him.

Rick and Morty season 5 premieres June 20 on Adult Swim.

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