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pandawritespoorly · 5 years

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With Time: Chapter 9 - Her Truths

Author’s Note: A bonus chapter! You can thank my best friend for pushing me to do this. I'll still be updating on Saturday as usual, so no worries.

I guess I should do a warning for strong language? By that I mean Chat Noir says 'damn' and 'bullshit' and that's really it. Anyways, onto the chapter!

Chapter Summary: Chat Noir learns Ladybug's truths. It's not at all what he expected.

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Chat Noir reacts on instinct, he sees the gavel make contact with his partner and he sees her collapse. The akuma makes a move to get closer, but he shoves her back with his baton.

Racing over, he skids to a stop when he gets to her. She silent so far, but her face is scrunched up in pain and her hand is digging into her chest. He scoops her up into his arms and heads to the rooftops. He has no intention of trying to learn her secrets, but better him than all of Paris.

Her breathing is heavy, and he frowns down at her. They’ve seen enough people get hit - even talked to a few - that they are both well aware of what happens when hit.

“It’s like everything you’ve ever lied about is weight, and it grows heavier with every second you don’t come clean.” The words of one person rings through his head.

They’ve yet to see anyone last more than maybe ten seconds, but as usual, his Lady is able to persevere longer than most. He winces in sympathy as a whimper escapes from her.

“Just a little longer, Bugaboo, there’s still people around. They should learn to mind their own damn business. ” This would be the story of the decade though. Everyone is well aware of what the heroes’ most relevant secret would be - their real names.

It’s been a minute and she still hasn’t spoken a word, he’s really pushing it now, but there’s a few really persistent stragglers. She’s curled up tightly onto herself and he’s noticed tears of pain escaping her tightly closed eyes.

Pulling a few quick moves, and some tricks, he loses the last of them. Finding a suitable rooftop, he sets her in the corner.

“There you are. I’m going to be on the other side of the roof, ‘cause I’m not leaving you alone, but I’m not going to listen to what you say. You value your secret identity, and I trust that you have good reasons for what you’ve lied about.”

He turns and has taken not even three steps, when she speaks softly. It’d be barely audible to anyone else, but with his heightened hearing - especially in the suit - he hears it clear as day, and that - that was not what he was expecting.

Not in the slightest.

---

She felt the weight on her chest immediately, it was so much. She felt herself get lifted, and didn’t understand how someone else could bear such weight.

Her mind knew that the weight would stop increasing if she just spilled it all. People wanted to know. They had to know. They deserved to know.

No! These things needed to be kept secret. What were they again? It didn’t matter, she wouldn’t say them anyways.

The weight on her chest kept growing, she could barely breathe.

Don’t tell. Don’t tell. Do not tell.

She felt the person carrying her jump some more, every movement hurt - a reminder of her burden. It hurt so much.

This wouldn’t be happening if she hadn’t lied. This is all her fault.

What had she lied about anyways?

She could feel the words on her lips, it would be so easy to say it.

What was ‘it’ again?

A rough landing, her eyes pricked with tears. It hurt so much .

Why wasn’t she allowed to talk? She can’t remember.

No, focus, she wasn’t supposed to say anything.

Focus.

Foc-

A voice. She realizes she’s no longer in someone’s arms - somewhere else now - she doesn’t register the words, or recognize the voice because everything hurts so much and-

One word gets through to her.

‘Lied’.

They know.

The voice knows.

The voice wants to know the truth.

Her eyes spring open - blind to her surroundings - as she releases the hold on her tongue. She speaks her truth:

“I’m a disastrous, catastrophic disappointment at everything I do, and everything I’ll ever try.”

---

What?!

Ladybug, no! Chat Noir rushed to her side, but it would seem she wasn’t done. Her eyes stayed unfocused, staring at nothing as she worked on her heavy breathing - preparing to continue.

“Ladybug, what happ-”

“I can’t do anything right.”

“No-”

“I’m useless, incapable of being good in the slightest.”

“No! no-” She just keeps going, and he can’t stop her. He clutches her arm tightly, because what else can he do? Each statement came laboriously - likely due to how long she managed to hold herself silent, the pain on her chest must be unbearable.

“I’m a horrendous hero, Paris deserves better. Chat deserves a better partner.”

“NO! You’re a great partner! I-”

“I messed up, this is all my fault-”

“Ladybug, please-” He didn’t like anything about this. The words alone would hurt his heart, but the way she was saying it made it a million times worse. They’d been at this all day. He’d seen those hit cry, he’d seen them scream, he’d even seen a few laugh, but none of them, none of them had done this.

She said it all with such certainty . With full acceptance of every word coming out of her mouth as if it were an absolute fact .

Wasn’t this akuma supposed to make people speak the truth? Where did these sickening lies come from?!

“I deserve everything that’s happened to me. They were all right.” She was crying now - tears of resignation - and paired with her sad smile it just stomped his heart into the ground even further. He wasn’t even sure if they were sad tears or if she was just in so much pain and it was probably both, but he was crying too because neither option was good.

“I’m obsessive and creepy. A-” even like this she stumbles over her words, catching herself - even as it clearly pains her “my crush would never be anything but disgusted by me.”

He wasn’t even remotely upset at the mention of a crush, partially because he already knew, but mostly because that didn’t matter right now. What happened? Who is ‘they’ and what did they do to her?!

He has to remind himself not to crush her arm because with how tightly he’s gripping it, he should be worried about leaving bruises.

“I don’t deserve my miraculous and Tikki. No one should ever trust me with anything, especially something so important.”

He knows that his heart would break if she sounded sad, but anything, anything would be better than this-this-this numbness . He’s almost sobbing at this point he’s just so upset, what happened? Why does she think any of this is remotely true? Why can’t she see how spectacular she is?

He’s angry, he’s sad, he’s- he’s- he doesn’t know what he is . That really didn’t matter right now, because Ladybug is his priority.

“I’m a repulsive moron that no one could ever legitimately like. No one in their right mind would want to spend time with-” she cuts herself off, as if something is occuring to her. For a moment his heart soars. She’s finally done . But no. No, she shakes her head and continues, “Everyone already knew I was a terrible person, but no one told me because it was so frightfully obvious that they didn’t realize I didn’t know.”

What sort of nonsense is she even spewing right now? He doesn’t know how much longer he can stand this-

“I’m a moron. She was right all along, I should have known better. She tried to warn me, but I wouldn’t listen and I messed up.”

Going off the fact that everything she’s said so far is complete bullshit, Chat is willing to bet that this ‘she’ was very, very, wrong.

Maybe a cataclysm to the face would help set ‘her’ straight…

“They’re all right to despise me, they were right.”

“Ladybug!” Was there no end?

“No one is with me willingly. No one would actually want that.”

“ What do you mean? Where is this coming from?” he can’t see with all the tears streaming from his face.

She freezes and he once again hopes that she’s finally done , but no, no she isn’t. Not by a long shot.

“I mean,” oh, right, he’d asked her a question and now she would answer, “that everyone who spends an extended amount of time with me does so for two reasons.”

Oh this’ll be good.

“They may hang out without me because they’re good people and it’s the right thing to do - like my fr- classmates. Or they have some obligation to, like my parents, or Tikki, or Chat Noir. Or they’d do it for both. I know I’m not actually worthy of lo-”

No, he can’t listen to another second of this, please , “Ladybug, my lady, please stop! None of this is true and I can’t bear to hear another second of it . Stop, just stop! ” He’s on his hands and knees beside her, his tears dot the roof and he’s the only one here that is remotely upset and that makes it so much worse .

She inhales suddenly - sharply. He glances at her in surprise, seeing her looking around in confusion, her breathing clearly returning to normal now that the weight is gone from her chest.

“Oh, Ladybug, you’re back. Oh, thank Plagg.” he puts a hand on the side of her face, finally drawing her eyes to him.

“Chat! W-what happened?! You-you’re crying? I’m so sorry! I-”

“No, oh, Bug, don’t ap-”

He’s interrupted by screams from the street. The akuma.

“Oh no! The akuma! How long have we been up here?!” Ladybug stands, rushing to the edge, looking over and surveying the area below. He comes to join her from behind.

“Ladybug-”

“I’m sorry Chat, I don’t know what happened, but can you just hold up until we defeat The Revealer?”

Can he hold up? What about her?!

“I can manage.”

“Okay, thank you, I’m sorry about this.”

Before he can tell her stop apologizing , she swings away, he follows behind worriedly.

Her mind is abuzz with thoughts.

What did you say?! How did you mess up this time?! You hurt Chat! You made him cry!

Marinette is probably just that much of a disappointment!

You got hit by the akuma, moron!

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

You’re a disappointment!

A failure!

---

Despite their best efforts, the akuma continued to wreak havoc among Parisians for another hour or so. Ladybug keeps sending worried glances her partner’s way. He seemed angrier than earlier. He is certainly a better asset in this fight than her - his exhaustion seemingly gone.

She misses the concerned looks he sends her way.

Finally, Chat seems to get entirely fed up with this whole ordeal, and when the akuma is distracted by Ladybug, he hits her over the head with his baton, cracking her glasses which release a butterfly. When he realizes what he did he slumps in relief and disbelief, laughing quietly.

Ladybug is quick to react. Shooting her yo-yo out, she quickly cleanses the akuma.

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

She’s not going to bother with an unnecessary lucky charm - there’s no reason this time. She sees a few people stop in the middle of spilling everything, others return to their normal speed.

“Well, glad that’s over!” She turns to her partner, holding out her fist. He bumps it, giving her the saddest ‘pound it’ she’s ever heard.

…

She must have really upset him…

“Hey, you okay Chat?”

He gives her a look of disbelief, shaking his head laughing quietly, “Yeah, um can you meet me at the top of the tower in, like, 30 minutes?”

“Y-yeah. I can do t-that.”

He nods, “See you then!” With a two-finger salute, he’s off.

She stands for a moment - worried. She knows what this is about, but she wishes it hadn’t come so soon. It’s selfish, she knows, but she’ll miss Tikki.

He’s finally going to take her miraculous away.

---

She’s pacing frantically, in her room. She’s been back for a while now, and has about 15 minutes until the agreed meet-up time.

“Marinette, calm down, you’re going to wear a hole in the floor!” Tikki floats up to her, landing on her head.

“But Tikki, I don’t know what I said when I got hit! What does he know?! Probably my name! Who knows what else? Ooohh, I messed up big time…”

“Marinette, it’s fine, it was a mistake, you were overworked and tired, no one can expect you to be perfect! Even if he knows your identity, it’s not the end of the world, all true Ladybugs and Chat Noirs have learned the identity of their other half eventually. Besides, it’s no added danger, we’ve learned that Hawkmoth won’t be able to learn your identities from each other!”

“Still…”

“If it makes you feel better, maybe you should wear one of your Ladybug outfits?”

Months ago, Marinette had been inspired to make a small variety of Ladybug-themed outfits complete with a mask. It was partially for fun, but also in case there was an akuma that seemed likely to cause her to time-out at an inconvenient time, then her identity would still be safe - if she was able to change into one that is.

“... you think so?”

“If you’re so worried about talking to him face-to-face, this way you can still have a mask on, but I can be there too if needed.”

“Okay. I guess so…” Strangely enough, it did comfort her some. At least this way when he took the earrings away he wouldn’t have to look at any more of her awful face than usual.

Going to her closet, she shoved past everything to get to the back where there was a small variety of red-black spotted outfits with masks hanging from the hangers.

“Maybe this one? Dresses are good for first impressions!” Tikki flitted over to a hanger bearing a red and black spotted knee-length dress with long sleeves. It had the usual mask, and plain black leggings. It would certainly be warm enough for this weather, it’s one of the ones she made specifically for colder weather.

“Yeah, that one’s good.”

By the time she’s changed, it’s about time to go. When her the Kwami isn’t looking, she slips the miraculous box into the pocket of her dress.

“Ready, Tikki?”

The kwami nods, and Marinette transforms, her outfit changing to her usual hero-ing outfit. Ladybug leaps from the balcony in the direction of the well-known landmark.

She ignores her empty stomach’s protests and the aching fatigue of her muscles. She can rest once she’s home again. Chat is nice, he’ll bring her home before going to Fu’s.

Ladybug is nearing the top of the tower when the exhaustion finally gets to her. She meets her partner’s eyes just as her own slip shut and she collapses - right off the side.

---

Author’s Note: Ladybug, falling off the Eiffel Tower is generally considered a bad idea.

I guess this is my last update of October? See you in November!

Thanks for reading, and constructive criticism is welcomed in the comments below!

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#miraculous ladybug #transfer #with time #fanfic #chameleon #salt #marinette dupain cheng #tikki #chat noir #overworking #self hate #self-esteem issues #strong language

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bubbletimestories · 4 years

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Quarantine Beck (Quentin/reader)

Summary: The story of how Quentin Beck is so bored during confinement that he decides to find a damsel in distress for Mysterio. Except he falls on your profile and you start to trot him in the head. Between the heat, the confinement and the fact that he can send drones to observe whoever he wants, Quentin could well lose his mind.

Warnings: stupid Beck, he’s an asshole, as usual. Broken mug.

Themes: love, obsession, being bored, quarantine

A/N. This is not an ad for Smule (the application used at the end) but it is true that it relaxes. I especially wanted to stage a slightly stupid Beck and the fact that he sings ^^ Fic written quickly, without proofreading, for fun.

Translated with Google traduction, sorry ^^’

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24540031 (eng)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24539569 (fr)

*************************************************************************

Everything was ready for the big appearance of Mysterio, for the Elemental’s very first attack which would bring a whole new hero into the spotlight. Everything, absolutely everything was ready. And then the Covid struck.

At first, no one really cared, they weren't planning to launch any of their virtual creatures in China. A little Asian virus was not going to steal them the limelight in the newspapers, not against an earth giant or a walking tornado. But the little Asian virus did not stop there and we all know that in the space of a few months, the whole world was frozen behind thick windows. When the confinement was announced, more than one citizen felt a ball of anxiety crushing their throat, but it was nothing compared to the dull terror experienced by all the members of the "Mysterio" team. Being locked up is one thing, but when the greatest danger is cloistered between four walls with you, the global pandemic seems very slight.

The confinement was declared several weeks ago, the spirits are still heating up but many have already resigned themselves to having to wait quietly for the sun to shine on them again. Speaking in a low voice in a corner of the warehouse that has served as their home for far too long, Janice laments, carefully dusting the costume of the hero who does not yet exist.

"There is at least one good thing ... the helmet fits perfectly with the rules of hygiene. "

Victoria chuckles behind her back, recovering almost immediately with a concerned look upstairs, where their leader has taken up residence. Amid the debris of drones and other shattered objects, he turns in circles like a tiger in a cage, his slender figure cutting against the smoked glass window. Impossible to launch their great illusion now, it would be ridiculous to see a monster devastating a deserted city. No drama, no tension, it would have as much effect as a wet firecracker. So they have to wait, wait again, praying a little louder every day so that the operation chief does not commit murder. When he grabbed the hammer lying there yesterday, everyone held their breath as they imagined their last hour arriving.

" Hello everybody ! "

A cheerful voice startles the two women as Quentin descends the shaky staircase to mingle with the crowd, his face radiant and freshly shaven. He greeted everyone, patting one on the shoulder, saying funny word to an other, his irresistible charming smile on his lips. He’s sorry for yesterday, he got a little carried away, nothing serious. After all, there are worse things than being stuck here with friends. It gives them time to discuss, to refine certain details, to perfect what they have prepared with such care. Maybe they could think about how to add a little emotion to their script, although the tearful story of the bereaved soldier is already a great teardrop. Finally, he comes up to the costumer, slipping a hand behind her back, leaning over to watch her work.

- I am always impressed by the detail of this cape, all these hours of work… - It's ... it's because it's for you, Quentin.

The young man smiles and darts his blue eyes on Janice, just long enough to see her lose all means. It is easy for Beck to lead his world, a simple look is enough for him, a smile or a well-placed word opens all the doors. He decides to prepare a coffee before returning to see the seamstress, taking the opportunity to exchange a few words with Guterman on the story they have invented, the alliance on his finger... After having recovered the drone control bracelet to be able to check certain settings by speaking (he likes to be able to play with them), Quentin returns to his armor which he examines with a critical eye. Suddenly, his face darkens as he points to a small scratch on the shiny surface.

" What is that ? "

There is silence all around them although the tone of the young man has remained calm and playful. Janice suddenly feels in balance on the razor's edge and explains like a mother would talk to her son, if the latter was armed with a butcher's knife.

"Well ... it's a trace of past battles. The story of the Quentin Beck fighter will be more credible if the public sees traces of wear on the armor. "

He was the one who made this remark, insisting strongly that small details are the glue of good lies and that it should be as true as possible. The team leader nods slowly when he hears this common sense answer.

"More credible for the public ... it is for the public to believe in it ..."

With a great movement, he smashes the happily empty cup on the edge of the desk. He doesn't even pay attention to the handle that remains in his hand while the rest of the ceramic lies in a thousand pieces around him. His immense eyes give off a burning anger, unless it is madness dancing in flames in his angelic pupils.

"The audience will see what I want them to see. They'll believe what I want them to believe. Everything must be absolutely perfect, I mean PERFECT, for the arrival of Mysterio and perfection does not admit a scratch on the armor! "

He laughs as he steps aside, his fingers absently gliding across the control screen to make the drones fly, these obedient extensions of himself. Unlike others whose metal tentacles are the real masters, he can fully rely on the robots that roar around the warehouse, their weapons out and ready to fire. Quentin walks slowly, scratching his thin beard, deeply saddened by the fact that he has to live with people who fail to meet his ideal.

"I invest myself body and soul, we are all investing body and soul in this adventure, to make all these years of work something more important than stupid therapy for an alcoholic billionaire. All this hard work shouldn't go up in smoke because of a little mistake. "

No one dares to answer for fear of being shot in the head. Beck seems to regain his calm as he gently places the broken handle on the costumer's desk. The latter, tense of apprehension, feels uneasy when she feels a hand go up along her back to her shoulder, pressing gently as for a massage. The contact, as unexpected as it is sensual, is accompanied by a warm breath that disturbs the strands near her ear.

"Janice, Janice, Janice, you are a pearl ... Forgive me for this moodiness, I'm sure you can rectify that without problem. "

The woman nods vigorously and the drones all disarm together to return to land in their corner, their leader smiling, whispering before standing up.

"I knew I could count on you, honey. "

He can count on everyone here, they are a very close-knit team. Why these burial faces? It's a good day. Quentin regains his good humor, as do his comrades, as if the mug incident no longer existed. Well, since they're stuck here, why not put a little spice in the frame of their future hero? The young man has been thinking about it for a few days, but finding a damsel in distress would be a way for Mysterio to gain points. Who doesn't love rescue stories with a hint of romance? It's decided, he will take advantage of this confinement to choose the ideal candidate as others would peel the dating sites.

“We will find the ideal pigeon for our history. "

That's it, he is again totally focused and excited by their project, which reassures more than one person in the group. They are coming together, it will be like a game where everyone will judge the female profiles, even if the last word will obviously go to Beck. The latter settles down quietly, letting Will do the research and project the images using drones (they are very useful for watching a film). Quentin's eyes sparkle as he imagines the perfect prey, the one who will swoon in his arms under the applause of the crowd.

"She has to be pretty but not vulgar, not a bimbo or a brainless doll. Nor should she be too self-confident or intelligent, that would sound elitist. It is out of the question to take a teenager or an old woman, maybe a few years younger than me and obviously without disability, I don't want anyone to think that it is out of charity. Besides, she must be able to run and shout my name. Skin color doesn't matter, I'm not picky. "

Despite this last sentence, William realizes that his boss will not take the first young lady and it is by mopping the sweat on his forehead that he begins his research, going from photo to photo, from a Facebook, LinkedIn profile to another at the whim of "no", "no", "too cliché", "too ugly" from his leader. Hours go by and no woman really finds favor in Quentin's eyes, in his quest for perfection. If only he had a really clear idea of what he wants ...

- Walentyna Chmielewska… - Unpronounceable. - Alina Baez, dermathologist… - No - Y/N, she is currently in… - Ordinary - Christina Liang, professional dancer. - Lesbian, take a better look at her profile.

With an annoyed sigh, Quentin puts an end to this game which no longer amuses him, which in fact no longer amuses anyone. He will look for a young woman on his own, it will be simpler and faster. He therefore goes back to his office, giving free time to his team, eager to take advantage of a little calm. All the glimpses seen mix in his mind with a crisp buzz, hundreds of fake smiles, photoshoped skin and seductive poses. Although a photo trots in his head, very clear compared to the fog of other female figures. He found you ordinary and didn't even take the time to reflect on who you are.

Y/N... You are far from having a beauty of a model and besides, you don't seem to know how to pose or show off, even in selfies. But there's something in your eyes, in your way of smiling as if you were thinking of something secret that catches Quentin's attention. Since there is nothing else to do, he will be busy for an hour or two. Peeling your Facebook page turns out to be excruciatingly fast, you post nothing, your likes being limited to a few trivialities. Empty Instagram account, the only source of information is from your LinkedIn profile. If your photos reveal a blatant lack of narcissism or even self-confidence, your professional career shows that you are far from being stupid. You even have a higher level of education than Beck, which should offend his pride. He has rejected more than one profile for fear of being overshadowed, he likes to be the smartest one in the room. But no, you don't seem aware of your genius or you don't care.

"A girl like you posts more than that ..."

It is sure, you must have a pseudonym to browse other sites. Finding which alias you use takes him longer than he would like to admit, but when he finds out, it's the cave of wonders that opens before his eyes. Starting with your Tumblr account, nourished for years with your obsessions of the moment : fandoms, ships of all kinds. If a man's heart goes through his stomach, yours goes through your passions. With infinite fun, Quentin discovers what makes you vibrate, sometimes laughing with you in front of some funny posts.

Outside the office, the atmosphere gradually returns to normal. The debris from the cup are swept away, the drones carefully stored out of sight. Beck's absence gives the team some respite and they take advantage of it while it lasts. They do not know that a young qualified woman of some sort is currently occupying their chief, making him smile without even having met you. Without saying that you are fascinating, the engineer discovers you day after day, layer after layer, first the intelligent woman then the obsessive fan. Finally, he comes across a nugget, an oil well: AO3.

He should have suspected it, you love to write, it's an uncontrollable impulse that takes you to your body and pushes you to strum furiously on your computer for long hours. When he starts reading your fics, Beck likes to imagine you in front of your screen, shortness of breath and dilated pupils, letting the stream of words flow freely at your fingertips. Even if he is not really interested in these fandoms of which you speak, he swallows one, two, five fics without realizing it, carried away by your style. He imagines you as the reader, chatting with fictional characters, quivering under their caresses in your few writings for adults. Hidden behind your screen, you expose yourself and reveal a sensuality that cannot be totally imaginary, totally fictitious. You have written several since the beginning of confinement, translating your thirst for adventure, your hunger for physical contact, with a touch of humor. But do you only have experience in body and love games? It is not certain and it is all the more exciting: he can make you discover sensations that you hitherto only partially imagined.

Without even knowing it, you creep into the mind of the young man to occupy his thoughts, ghost or fantasy that has nothing to do with the companion he wanted for Mysterio. You are neither magnificent nor the kind to languish against a hero in armor, but Quentin does not think of you for his avatar. He imagines you with him, behind the smoke screen, impressed by his ideas and his virtuosity. Confinement is bad for him and he spends most of his time with you, in thought, until he decides to go further with the discovery. He wants to see you, not only in pictures but moving, living. Without really telling the rest of his team, he sets out to send a drone outside, devoured by curiosity. After all, if he has to make you the love interest of Mysterio, it is normal that he learns as much as possible, he is the perfectionist type.

This is not really voyeurism, he does not intend to spy on you in intimate moments and, anyway, he could only see through the windows. Feeding his obsession, Quentin does not care about the surprised or even disapproving whispers which fill the warehouse a little more every day. Opinions are divided between those who find that their leader goes too far, especially using their precious drones, and others who see this little break as a deliverance. As long as Beck is busy elsewhere, the team is safe from his rage. Even though citizens are cloistered at home for their security, Quentin sees the world scrolling from his small screen as one could walk on Google maps. You're not hard to find, sitting at your desk above your study books. Since the announcement of confinement, your brain has paused and you can’t work, even for an hour. Not knowing you are being watched, you breathe a dramatic sigh while rocking back, arms dangling on each side of your chair.

"I'm so lazy..."

Your unsightly and totally natural posture has something comical, especially for the one who spies on you, drinking from you for days. You look younger than he thought, maybe because of your loose t-shirt that makes you look like a teenager. It’s strange to hear your voice for the first time, as if you suddenly became real. The ambient heat makes your skin shine and you get up by shaking your top to get some air under the fabric, still grumbling. Beck loses nothing of your movements or the detail of your silhouette with full curves that terry shorts absolutely do not hide. He suddenly wants to be really close to you, to feel your thighs streaked with white under his fingers, to hear his first name in your mouth. What is your laughter like? What does your skin taste like? Do you like popcorn in the movies? It’s totally unrealistic, stupid and even perverse to be so interested in you. He really has nothing to do with his days to be so bitten. He hadn't been spying on a woman for years, it was the withdrawn and bizarre teenager who resurfaced. Today, he can have all the women he wants with a snap of his fingers and yet he still finds himself fantasizing about a chance encounter, a way of approaching you.

"Show yourself instead of looking at me from afar, it's scary. "

Immersed in his thoughts, Quentin jumps when he hears you say that, he made sure to hide the drone, you cannot have seen it and even if it was, you cannot react so calmly by knowing you were being spied on. An icy chill runs down his back but you are not looking in the right direction, your eyes lowered towards a ball of hair which comes to rub against your legs. A cat, you were talking to your cat.

« Since you're here, I consider that you send me a sign. No more work, I relax. »

Always ready to see signs of the universe when it comes to not working, you close your book and get a headset and your phone, your thumb fluttering at high speed on the cold surface of your screen in a gesture automatic. Intrigued, Quentin bends down slightly to observe your strange ride, the way you walk back and forth by adjusting the microphone of your headset before clearing your throat. Are you about to call a friend? You dance slightly while staring at your screen, marking a rhythm that only you hear while continuing to stroll under the bewildered gaze of your voyeur. What are you doing ?

In sleep, he sang to me In dreams, he came That voice which calls to me And speaks my name…

You sing ... you sing into your micro while holding your phone, your voice soaring up to the drone as you smile without being able to stop yourself, as if you were on a Broadway scene, simmering with excitement. Hidden in his warehouse, Beck does not believe his senses ... Not only do you sing well but you are simply magnificent, radiant with simple joy, thinking you are alone in the world. Thinking that you’re out of sight and criticism, you have fun without shame and it makes you beautiful. Fascinated, the young man who shakes an entire team of engineers, who is only animated by the burning fire of pride and revenge, has eyes only for you. Without realizing it, he begins to sing too, joining you softly for what is technically a duet. When the song ends and you catch your breath, Quentin lets out a satisfied laugh. He holds his solution to approach you, not as Mysterio but as... himself : he will join you on this application and sing with you.

More cheesy, you die.

#fanfiction #quentin beck/reader #Quarantine Beck #Covid-19 fic

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mofmans · 5 years

Text

Childhood Amnesia

Reverse AU - Magi!Hakuryuu and King Vessel!Judar

(Judar is 8 and Hakuryuu is 6)

Judar’s not sure if this is magic or just the mood, but the air right outside of Hakuryuu’s room is cooler than the rest of the palace. Actually, cool would be an understatement, because he could feel, step by step, the heat drain out of his body, pulling goosebumps up from his arms. It’s spring and yet when he can see his breath when he stands right in front of the door. Sliding open the door feels like pulling a slab of ice away but his suspicions of magic were verified by the layer of frost that covered every solid surface of the room except for the young prince and magi himself. Judar’s exhale drags out into the room. It’s one of those days. Hakuryuu must have gone through one of those sessions with the organization. Whatever magic spills from the magi differs each time, but the silence is always the same. It has an odd, familiar quality to it, which is sad to admit because Judar can’t even count the number of times this has happened now.

But enough of that moping. Judar jumps onto the bed with his dirty boots on, making sure that he leaves shoeprints on the fancy royal sheets. That’ll give Hakuryuu something to get angry about later, that always helps him jump back to his usual self. He crosses his arms and scoots closer to Hakuryuu, who’s hugging his knees on the corner of the bed. The boy isn’t budging at all and Judar pokes his shoulder just to make sure that he didn’t accidentally freeze to death.

“Hey.” Judar ruffles the boy’s hair, pulling some of the locks away from his bun, “Did you have to meet with the organization again?”

A long sniffle and no response. This is also familiar, so much so that it almost feels like it’s scripted at this point, with the only difference being that ice is used as the props of the stage rather than water or a completely crumbled room. Judar could count to ten in his head and… as expected, Hakuryuu leans on his side, just like clockwork.

Judar sighs and tries to recall Hakuei’s advice. He wants to tell her off though, because fuck, if she knows better then she should be the nice older sister that comes over to console the crybaby instead. She briefly mentioned once about her relationship with Hakuryuu becoming more strained but… whatever, it’s not his job to care about whatever family drama is going on. What matters right now is that if he doesn’t try to do something, Hakuryuu will just stay like this for the rest of the day, and this entire side of the palace might get encased in ice.

He looks over at the prince, who’s still facing down, “...You have a name, right?”

“...Hakuryuu.”

“You remember that much, nice.”

Hakuryuu huffs in response. It’s like he’s reverted back to how quiet he was when they first met, when Judar spent the whole night in his room without barely a word on Hakuryuu’s end as the servants got him “proper Kou clothes” instead of those “savage garbs.”

Just like before though, Judar doesn’t have much choice but to keep trying. “...Remember how you took me in?”

A nod.

Judar groans. “Uh. Tell me about it then. I’m fuzzy on the details.” He scratches the back of his head and tries to not look like he’s shivering too much.

“You already know.”

Of course he already knows. He remembers every second of it, every jolt of pain as his burned fists tried to pound against the barrier, the overwhelming scent of charred flesh that told him again and again that it won’t be long before he joined the ashes. How could he not forget the stone glare that responded to his wrath, blocking everything yet held just the smallest glimmer of light from the flames behind them, something that hinted at a living soul behind the murder machine, something buried under ancient magic when the flesh wasn’t even a decade old.

“Uh. No I don’t.” Judar lies, like a liar.

Hakuryuu sniffles again and sighs, “...Even if you’re too stupid to remember, you can just look at your hands.”

“Says the one who’s got burn scars on his face and all over his body.”

“Are you just here to bother me and make me feel worse?”

“Well, yeah. Better than you staring off into space for the entire day.”

Judar doesn’t need to see Hakuryuu’s face to know he’s pouting. The magi’s eyes are probably all red and puffy too, which had the curious effect of making the scar on the left side of his face look all funky. Hakuryuu’s most likely aware of that too, that’s probably why he’ll keep his face down until the swelling goes down or his neck breaks.

“Come on,” Judar pokes Hakuryuu on the cheek, “tell me, tell me!”

The smaller boy huffs, barely audible. As if he didn’t notice that Judar makes him do this every single time. Is the boy that obsessed with making sure he remembers how they met?

“Fine.” His fists clench at his robes. “Don’t interrupt me though.”

Fire. Absent of trees or any standing buildings. Almost completely absent of standing human beings either, at least no humans that are supposed to be living in these plains. The fires that ate at the grass and the crawling mounds of flesh were the tallest, most noticeable figures in the rubble that Hakuryuu gazed upon. Breaking through the band of warriors was easy enough, and Hakuryuu might say that watching their spines snap as he commanded a wave of force to throw them into the mountains was even fun. None of those warriors were in sight anymore, though. Only the licks of a gluttonous fire.

He should be proud of this. All of the magicians have been praising him for how much his strength magic has improved over the past month, and now he’s allowed to use it outside of the borders of the empire for the first time. He should be proud to show how much he can do now, proud to show that he’s not just a baby, that he can do something. But his eyes feel like they’re burning hot while staring at the fire. Why does he feel so close to crying already? He’s doing a good job, there’s no reason for anyone to get upset at him?

“What’s wrong?�� He felt his mother’s gentle hand pat him on the head, softly stroking his hair in a nurturing gesture, yet it took everything in him to not scream, “Oh I see… My poor little Hakuryuu… Are you still afraid of the fire? I thought you said you were a big boy now. We might need to do another session to make sure you grow up strong, then.”

He shivered at those words and he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know why his legs started to move on their own either, running off to the side of the burning village, as if there might be an area with a little less smoke, a little friendlier fire, a little more rubble and guts to make up for the heat that’s pressing everywhere. He looked back once and immediately regretted seeing the twisted smile on Gyokuen’s face.

At least by running he can get away from that for a little while, he won’t ahve to fear if the next pay on the head will start that lurching feeling in his gut, make his head spin and throat choke up, like there’s smoke inside his lungs again.

...Again? But this is his first encounter with such a large fire. That’s why it’s so terrifying, because it’s new, not because it’s familiar.

His legs aren’t listening to the thoughts in his head. Even when he finally does stop moving, the fires are still in front of him, the only difference being that he’s completely alone now. Alone, against the flames. Flames that could consume him at any moment, burn him alive into a crisp.

“You!”

Hakuryuu heard the thunk of a small fist hitting the borg. He turned around. Hitting and hitting again, thuds too soft for a grown man but too loud for a burning crisp of a body. There’s a face of a boy, still alive, still unscarred unlike his own face, right in front of him.

“You! You did this, didn’t you?” The boy’s gotten the borg all dirty, smeared red and nasty. There was a moist quality to the thudding noises, “Get out of that stupid shell so I can kill you! I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you-”

Hakuryuu stopped listening to whatever racket this boy, relatively unscathed from the ever-present fire, was making. That didn’t matter. He could just squash the bug easily, the force necessarily to kill him wouldn’t even manifest in a black wave like most of his strength magic.

But he doesn’t do it.

The boy was relentless, each thud sounding sloppier and sloppier, blood and flesh colliding against the wall of magic. Hakuryuu saw it now, the boy’s hands were burned, barely any skin left intact, yet it didn’t seem to matter to him if blood smeared and splashed against the immovable borg. Every once in a while he would even kick, and it was clear that the fire didn’t melt only his hands, but burned at the feet and legs too. Something in Hakuryuu’s gut tells him it’ll leave scars that run just as deep as his.

“Young prince!” Who interrupted this. Hakuryuu doesn’t even look when he whispered a spell under his breath, causing the soldier to be crushed into the ground, bones snapping like a twig. And yet strangely enough, the boy doesn’t even stop from that? What a wild one. Hakuryuu felt the corners of his lip twitch up.

“Huh? What are you smiling at, you fr-HEY STOP LET GO OF ME-”

Gyokuen finally made it to wherever they were and smiled at the sight of Hakuryuu holding the wild boy with a giant black arm made of pure force that almost looked like an extension of the borg. Even now the boy’s trying to bite at the fingers as if the magic arm could feel pain.

“There you were Hakuryuu... did you want to bring that back as a pet?”

Judar yawns, “Your storytelling sucks. You have zero emotion in your voice, I could’ve fallen asleep from that if it wasn’t so fucking cold.” He rubs his hands up and down his sleeve to make some heat, “Maybe if you actually talked more around the palace, then you’d learn to show emotion in some way other than crying and crushing people’s guts.” Hakuryuu punches him on the arm and Judar yelps with an obviously comical tone.

“Then stop asking me to tell it again. And stop the “You have a name, right?” thing too.”

“You suck at imitations. But you remember how I asked you that the first night I was brought here, and you just wrote your name in that fancy calligraphy style? You were so ticked off when I couldn’t understand what the fuck that meant! Classic.”

“...Why do you keep doing this.”

Judar blinks, then smiled, “Uh, to fuck with you obviously. I like you better when you’re all pissed off and ready to fight instead of weepy and nonreactive.” It takes a moment but Hakuryuu finally looks up, eyes just as puffy as Judar expected them to be, dried tear trails and all. His whole face is red, with the scar an even darker shade, from all the blood that rushed down while he kept his head down like an ostrich.

“Stop lying just to sound like you don’t care. Tell me the truth, Judar.”

Judar sighs and shrugs, “Well, how can I go against my magi when he demands and answer from me like that?” He idly scratches the back of his head with his free arm, the one that wasn’t punched by Hakuryuu just a moment ago, “...I just wanna make sure you don’t forget, simple as that.”

Hakuryuu stares at him and it’s… unsettling. Not because he’s angry or weirded out, but because there was no emotion to it whatsoever besides- “...I’m lost. Why would I ever forget something as important as that?”

Judar bites the inside of his cheek and brings his hand down to grip at the sheets instead, twisting them around his fist. If it was anyone else, he’d yell. If it was any other kind of situation, he’d yell. “I mean. Most people wouldn’t. But you say your head gets all fuzzy after those sessions with the organization.” Hakuryuu opens his mouth as if to say something, but ends up biting his tongue instead and looks out the window.

“...Yeah, of course.” Does he actually remember or is he just pretending to understand what’s going on? Judar stares at him, trying to find something that could let him decode what is going on in Hakuryuu’s head but he’s getting nothing. Even if Hakuryuu couldn’t remember, what could a non-magician like him do? He pats the younger boy’s head, careful not to mess with the hair this time. What Judar would do to be able to cast some spell that guaranteed to keep those memories intact in that small head.

Judar stands up, “...I’m leaving. I’m gonna fucking freeze to death here.” He jumps out of the bed and has to grip onto the bed frame to not slip from the ice covered floor.

“Careful there-” Hakuryuu’s eyes widen, “Wait… You got on my bed with your muddy boots again?” But Judar’s already taking off at this point, “Judar, come back here you- EUGH!”

(10 years later)

“You’re gonna walk into a wall if you keep doing that.” Judar sighs. Hakuryuu could’ve easily just taken some time after the meeting to jot down whatever notes he needs to write but no. He has to be a difficult bastard that’s racing down every thought on a small magic scroll as they’re walking from one place to another.

“I have a borg, you know.”

“Sure, whatever. You still look stupid as hell when you do that.”

Hakuryuu looks right into Judar’s eyes with a glare. Not a death glare, more like a medium glare, one that’s slightly ticked but won’t get anyone killed yet. “And you looked stupid as hell while I had to carry you through that dungeon. If I wasn’t guiding you, Caacrinolaas would most certainly have killed you instead of giving you the vessel.”

“Ouch, you always aim straight for the heart!” Judar puts his hand to his chest, “How does that differ from all the times you helped you sister and your step-siblings through the dungeons?”

“They actually got through it by themselves. I only needed to watch.”

“Fuck off.” Judar kicks at him but it’s deflected by the borg as usual.

There’s a hint of a smile on Hakuryuu’s face, which is more than anyone else can do so Judar’s pretty damn proud of that. “Anyway. If you’re so concerned about me bumping against things, then why don’t you-” He presses the scroll against Judar’s chest, “-scribe things for me.”

“...Me? What do you think I am, some sort of advisor servant?” Judar swats the scroll away.

“No, but you are my retainer. And now my vessel too.” Hakuryuu slides the scroll into his pocket instead of finishing whatever thought he was on.

“So is the rest of your family.”

“They’re king vessels, but they’re absolutely not my retainers.”

They stop in front of a room where Hakuryuu is supposed to get tutoring. Judar leans against his spear and huffs, “Do I have to do the same shit I used to do when you were tiny, make you recite whatever you remember again and again until you get pissed off and destroy the wall?”

The pause and the lopsided downward curl on Hakuryuu’s lips makes Judar realize the slip he made but he doesn’t get to say anything before the magi takes the spear, almost making Judar lose balance, “...Whatever you mean by that, I don’t need it. Also, you’re going to Sindria without Caacrinolaas.”

“....Wait. What?” Judar doesn’t even get a chance to fix the slip he’s made because of the sudden topic change.

“You will get your next vessel with just your own skills. If you die, then that just means you didn’t deserve this first vessel anyway.”

Wow. He really doesn’t care if Judar dies in the process, does he. But that doesn’t seem surprising at all when he looks at the magi’s remorseless expression. He’s also probably pissed off that he doesn’t have any recollection of what Judar talked about. Frankly, if he presses any further, he might just lose an arm or a leg.

“Well you don’t have to worry about that cause I’ll come back with not one but two metal vessels, without needing any of your dumb magic!” Judar crosses his arms such that his scarred hands are hidden under his biceps and Hakuryuu… chuckles? That’s something new.

“Fine. I’ll grind your bones into dust if you disappoint me at all.” He says with a small but defiant smile.

Judar smiles back. Even if Hakuryuu’s a forgetful shit, at least he knows how to stay interesting in the weird way he is. “Yeah, you better be ready to kiss my ass when I come back with two new shiny vessels. I’ll be so strong I’ll leave Kouen shaking in his boots.”

“Yeah. Sure you will.”

#magi #juhaku #judaryuu #ren hakuryuu #judar #fritzi attempts to write

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ramblingshit · 5 years

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Fright Night - 2011 - 2/5

we start , very, very high. its ominous to begin, the dreamworks opening dark and spooky and slow. scrawled font glides across dark stormy clouds and we're over a small square, isolated suburb. a house is on sale. that's the Charmed font.

oh my god what is that david tennant what the fuck was not expecting that.okay so this is a modern Fright Night. and david tennant sis peter vincent. okay what a jump scare just happened the dog is scared, and this girl is dead and he's covered in blood and holy shit its the senator. wow the bed was bloody where his dad was scrambling for the gun hidden beneath the mattress that the boy finds. oh his dads body is sliding away and what the fuck is that im scared what the hell holy shit. ohh cool title card. nice symmetry in the birds eye. just a happy, normal small neighbourhood, everyone is diverse and happy and the kids are playing outside. holy shit its that dead guy poor ol mate.oh its hereditary mum. they got a chill equal relationship just chatting like friends more than parent adn child. and the mum's intelligent and assertive and smart and a real estate agent. this is very very different from the original fright night. is it really the same movie? is it oh its the girl from 28 weeks later nice she's hot and eyy pumped up kicks is playing damn. I'm pretty sure they're both like 25 and playing as oh holy shit its like zac efron's brother. trumping all over stereotype. what the hell its the weird super bad creepy guy comedian dude 'Brewster' it's the weird cackling kid. they've got relationship issues they're both geeks but brewster got hot and with the hot girl and rose through the 'social ranks' and they had to stop being friends. weird kid is threatening to show all his new friends embarrassing stuff from the past. oh my fucking god oh my god colin farrell. holy shit. oh my god. and damn she is Amy I'm forgetting everything cause its so different. he's charming and fucking hot and buff with like a paled face.being all charming and neighbourly. wife beater and silver necklace and damn the way he bit that apple. what are they doing here crawling through the doggy door who's adam. outta nowhere weird kid tells him jerry's a vampire, like a 'by the way' situation where are they going why does he have a cross and stake? they just added a stock door opening noise. they're telling the realisations of hm being a vampire without actually showing any of it and the weirdo kid is the one interested and telling brewster that jerrys a vampire like what first he's not even met him he hasn't been involved or around him at all and now he's adamantly trying to argue that he is a vampire?? in the original brewster was obsessed and found out quick to the start all by himself and half the trouble was trying to convince everyone else too. now one of his friends is trying to convince him?? what?? and they're mentioning Twilight and weird kid is saying how he's not broody or whatever like show us what his personality is like why are you saying this it's like this long ass dialogue chunk in the middle of a completely irrelevant situation, all about Jerry. fucking weird man what the fuck. we've seen the guy once. he's got evidence? why are they in this house? why is this happening? this was the Charley show - his journey from fear to sorting Jerry out and his tension with the guy the weird kid was basically comedic effect now he's premature exposition guy? and he's the one who thought of peter vincent cause it showed him watching him all the time but now its the weird kid convincing him and now they're having relationship problems and brewster fkn pushed him damn son use your words wow he's a fucking asshole like die dude the fuck. oh damn what the fuck the bully just grabbed him off his bike fr riding down his street like its his turf what the hell there's like four streets in this suburb and now they're fighting who wrote this why bother calling it fright night its a whole nother (fkn messy shit) story he's literally chasing him over the fence like he wants to kill him damn this isn't bullying fuck. what is this movie? oooooh jerry is hottttt i love me a murdererous manly man. weird kid is in big trouble. oh my god. oh my god did they get him to play fake grindelwald because of his role in this. damn he's turning weird kid and the cross falls dramatically from his hand. ohh he's a fuckin dick to his friend and now he's feelin all guilty and worried and reminiscing about the time he wasn't an asshole to his friend. wow we're not even half an hour in and half the original movie is gone and replaced by whatever high school drama movie this is.he walked into weird kid's room and didn't turn the light on? yeah alright. what the fuck. why is peter vincent fkn that 'sexy' emo magician man who was popular -Chris Angel Mindfreak. he found a laptop with evidence that jerry's a vampire videos on it. and here's Jerry and what's happening ahaha he's not gonna invite him in and its physically uncomfortable standing at the door he's literally stuck at the door and it's really really obvious. damn that was cool though passing the beer through the doorway and the communication in their eyes and now he's perving on his mum is this acting intentional? like he looked really unsure what to do with himself was that in character or?? he's looking around all paranoid he's perving on all the girls he's threatening him really obviously i can't tell if i like it more than the smooth suave chilling conversation that was driving charley mad at the start of the other one. jerry telling him to 'manage' the women in his life cause its his job to keep them safe. now they're doing the distracted disinterested in Amy play and she's the one coming onto him strong and what are we gonna see this. this is literally worse acting than the screaming kid in the first one it's like halfhearted. now the movie's settling in for like a spookier, much darker version of the nah nevermind its like a padded retelling. there's no billy in this one, just Jerry - who's gonna cover him during the day? original was a squad effort movie - bunch of kids and an old man going up against a vampire. not anymore its just this obviously mid 20s guy sneaking around in a dark house to quiet, eerie music. wait he's in Jerry's house? oh cause Jerry drove off. ooh Jerry's got awesome creepy office with spooky drawings on the walls why is this place so dark goddamn turn on the lightswitch. he's got costumes for hunting damn that's cool. and here he returns uh oh run charley run. try escape the vampire now that you're in his lair. a secret door to like a jail block in the wall? what he's letting himself be close in? what is he doing how did Jerry whip this up?jumpscare lol lame it's Doris. you telling me he's gonna lockpick the lock okay he's never done it before but okay. god he's hot. the swooning blond in the arms of a vampire. it's like hella horrific oh my god she just shushed Charley where he hid in the other room. drinks from her all orgasmic and tosses her back in the room. damn he looks good with a bloodstained mouth lickinn his lips and shit. good luck picking with a bobby pin you're hilarious holy fuck she's tiny, like a limp ragdoll. ew why is he watching skanky girls on TV. tryna tell me he's watching the TV so loud that he can't hear they panting and crying. yeah he can he's outta the chair - there's no reflection and he's like crying damn this is tense. such a nice house. strutting around, drinking beer, vaguely amused at everything. he just caught an apple. it's like he knows something amusing no one else does. but does he actually kno-- oh my god yeah he does that's awesome. oh holy fucking shit holy shit holy fucking shit she was a vampire she fucking exploded in the sunlight. his jumper s covered in her ash that's messed, Jerry stood inside listening and laughing to himself as he bit into the apple. now he's out here being the one looking up peter vincent - that entire start was completely pointless they should've cut out all of the weird kid stuff. now he's snubbing his girlfriend too this is how it should have all begun here comes david tennant. what the hell he's pulling a secret swipe identity thing to try get in to see vincent and vincent is a gross slimeball of a david tennant why are all these men slimy he's pretending to be a reporter she's walking around in a bra, vincent is an expert on vampires and the lot - not just using what he learned from doing his show and now she's using 'little girl' as a derogatory term for vincent. okay not the most attractive bod and i hate tattoos tbh at this point its true. god this whole thing is so edgy and wow okay here we go his hair is so much betterokay damn holy shit. it was the hair the hair was fucking me up okay holy damn all his facial hair is fake. and thank god his eyebrow piercing - wait nevermind all that 'expert' stuff was bulll? or is he mucking around? okay no its bull he isn't an expert. i can't believe how much hair affects someone. oh and his tattoo are right as well. damn he sounds schizo and vincent is fkn cold and that is some bad cgi and trying to be so dramatic its just a filter over the shot. oh and here's zac efrons brother and eternal grunge guy. ohh he's got creepy long nails and oh damn eating them and there's the blood oh fuck why is that hot im so disturbed. he's shaving stakes and its mum who confronts him and he's awwkard about it and now they've referenced 'Dark Shadows' as well as Twilight. these highschoolers are so serious and mature tryna talk to each other and here's Jerry at the door.this is a game to him but she's sticking up for her son and Jerry thinks its awesome or is it just oh damn he's coming back with a shovel and a power saw?? what's he doing??? where's he going oh my god what's he doing the girls are slowly realising that he might be right what is he digging up.flinging huge chunks of earth around. oh uh oh oh FUCK THAT:s GAS HOLY SHIT are you serious Jerry no holy daaaaaaamn he's blowing up their house I love it ahahaha 'dont need an invitation if there's no house' that is hilarious oh my god as if they're going to get out with what really he's gonna oh wait he''s gonna take the dirt bike what the fuck he just threw the bike at them what is happening is this Michael bay. and now he's ramming them fuck he really wants them dead damn oh ahahah they have a tank of a car driving getting hit by a bike, smashing through a vampire and his big ass car. is he-- he's under the car that's amazing yeah okay like they survived that too oh he just lifted up the car oh what the fuck he looks like that shark guy from batman oh no why does he look like that who made him look like a shark he's eating that guy blood squirting, he's very animalistic like twitchy and shit too black eyes eats a guy, morphs into something evil blood stained mouth cars all fucked up and he turns around 'hey' he greeted jovially, the girls run away - the mum just leaves her son to face off a vampire? yeah, okay. - and he calls 'catch you later!' damn some of this is gold and other bits are trash but so far they're evening each other out. he's oh damn he grabbed the cross and it lit on fire and he's got charley and was gonna stake him but mum popped up and shanked him through the shoulder with one of her real estate signs that's so lame, but he's screeching and flinging himself around making growling noises and now mum's fainted and hit her head and jerry's twitching out with a oh okay he hit him with his car again. jerry's all kinds of fucked but he heals up fine soon enough. vincent isn't charming; there's too much sex and money and cynical and assholey and its grotesque compared to the teenageriness of the original. and now mum's out for the count at the hospital lol what's happening. he's shitting on the idea to call the police that's hilarious he wouldn't stop calling them in the first. i dunno i keep comparing them because these are the bits i 100% liked better in the other one. now he's talking about weird kid who disappeared ages ago. he's a loser - she likes him cause he's different; she's the popular girl who didn't want an ass bully to date. vincent's a drunk on top of everything. but he does know his stuff about vampires. there's different species different breeds - Jerry's a tribal snacker who keeps his victims alive for days and oh damn its weird kid he's a black eyed vampire and he's mad Jerry got him Vincents in his panic room the bra girl is dead weird kids arms off and now Jerry's coming and weird kid's twitching out and he looks like a wolf shark and they're being vulgar again he's hunting them down this is a serious relationship drama issue. if they're strong enough to like bend metal how did grabbing him hard around the neck not immediately crush it. they're fighting - like what; charley just took a deep clawing across the chest they're blocking and slashing and every ones smashing stuff and he just got weird kid at the neck and uh oh she's in trouble but she's got a gun but he's barely flinching oh what. how did she know that was holy water the cup was up too high for her to see there was even any water in it. dude they're strong when its plot convenient - how do these guys know how to fight with weapons he's just so chill with that slash across the chest. ahaha what the fuck she's like urging him to kill him aha he stabbed him all drama and she's in survivor mode like fuck outta the way everyone oh good he's pretty again. i'm disappointed no jerry/amy stuff though tbh she's spicy, he thinks this is a great time. he's just hunting them and its nightclub time are they gonna do the jerry amy thing no he grabbed her by the throat oh damn oh okay no that was pretty hot he's got a slash on his chest and the bouncers just grabbing it and he doesn't react fuck sake 0 that was pretty cool if not exactly what i wanted - he properly vampired her: blood on his lips he kissed her and it drugged her enough to take her neck in the middle of the club. and now a vampire killed vincent's parents and that's why he's a drunk but how'd he become a magician what's that got to do with anything. damn highschooler dropping moral truthbombs that immediately make adults change their mind immediately and wanna help him. how does that car still drive. this is so gay like he is overreacting he's dressed to go to war - i forgot he burned their house down he's got a fucking crossbow and he's dressed in like military shit and he's swinging the crossbow around like he's in the military, did they tell him to take this serious or like he shoulda been an awkward stumbling kid oh what the damn they'res a secret like basement damn he just broke a hip how is all of this under his house didn't just move in???he switched on the first light in the whole movie and it barely lit anything up so lame. so extra oh damn that tiddy damn nice just dodged an arrow oh fo real really is he the vampire who killed vincent's parents are you serious that's so lame. and now Amy's what the fuck why is there like an entire institution beneath this house what is this. oh its the tribe?? they live in the dirt whoop her eyes are black but vincent's got a dramatic black leather jacket and a stake gun that just fucked up and he's just gonna stake her straight up they barely gave her time for her scary wide face he just stabbed her and ran and now she's eating her own blood and whoop vincent's being eatenoh really how did he know there was sunlight up there aren't we in the base meant isn't this place made of cement. damn he's hot with his shirt open. he just hissed at the beam of sunlight. even his fingernail burns oh that's cool he's in teh shadow and charleys in the sun beams as he taunts him about Amy and vincent's turning ahaha and they're gonna wait til the sun goes down and in the meantime he's gonna like fuck amy in front of charley ahaha nice drinking bloods like sex. oh yeah okay what he's gonna what he's expecting to go up in flames what the fuck he'd oh no okay what the fuck as if. as the fuck if. first of all, charley is human and a crazed vampire is not and are you joking me that charley could survive being thrown around plus he's fucking on fire that should have destroyed him by now fucking burned to a crisp oh im so disappointed and okay yea being a vampire was just dark spirits? and now everyones free to die of their wounds aha jesus. his clothes would have seared into his skin, his goggles would have melted but no, completely unscathed. so lame. oh that was such a slow awkward dialogue. weird like one liner jokes throughout are we in vegas? oh nice they're fucking i really don't care i don't wanna see these 25 year olds why do we care what happens now Jerry's dead. jesus that was bad. please im so upset. oh well sometimes 1980s camp horror is better than cheap rushed or at least badly edited modern ones. disappointing man.

#anton yelchin #imogen poots #colin farrell #horror #comedy #horror-comedy #rambles #rambingshit #shit #movies #fright night #2011 #commentary #review

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downn-in-flames · 5 years

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Owl Never Do That Again

The fact that owl mail delivery has persisted as long as it has is bad enough in Freddy Weasley’s opinion, but this particular occurrence has given him an entirely new reason to massively prefer texting.

Read it on: HPFT | AO3 | FFnet

OWL INDUSTRY IN DECLINE, MILLENNIAL OBSESSION WITH MUGGLE TECHNOLOGY TO BLAME

"No fucking shit," Freddy says, throwing today's edition of the Daily Prophet on the table. It's more to himself than anything, because his two flatmates are still asleep and therefore can't hear him, but it feels like necessary commentary nonetheless.

Honestly, the fact that owl mail delivery has persisted as long as it has is bad enough, in his opinion. Muggles came up with much more efficient communication methods years ago that didn't involve birds who shit all over your things and nip you when you try to retrieve your goddamn mail from them, and yet somehow, so much of wizarding society has spent so long firmly entrenched in this antiquated (and frankly, quite dumb) communication method.

The owl industry deserves to be in decline. Good riddance.

Almost if the nearest owl could tell that Freddy was thinking ill of it, there's an insistent claw tapping against the window.

Honestly, who the hell is sending him a letter these days? Even his parents, who grew up using owls as their sole form of communication, have purchased magic-resistant cell phones within the past few years.

But despite his internal grumbling, he slides the windowsill open and lets the offending creature in, taking the letter from its outstretched claw.

The name is written in a curly cursive font that he doesn't quite recognise, and… huh, that doesn't really look like it says Freddy - at least, the first letter doesn't look quite right. There's no address or last name on the envelope, which means that this particular sender seemed to have quite a lot of faith in their owl. Very misplaced faith, if you ask him.

Despite all of these red flags, Freddy still flips the letter over and goes to open it. But before he can break the seal, there's a rather aggressive peck made to his hand.

"Ow! Fuck!" he yelps, staring at the offending creature. "What the hell was that for?"

The bird stares back at him, and it becomes rather evident that he's waiting for a treat.

"I don't have any owl treats," Freddy explains to the bird, hoping it will understand him somehow.

But the bird remains resolute, breaking eye contact with Freddy for just a moment to look pointedly at his now-bleeding hand, almost as a warning that he's not afraid to strike again.

"Fine," he relents. "You can have a bite of my toast."

He grabs the toast he's just prepared for breakfast, offering a piece to the bird. But instead of merely taking a bite, the owl wrenches the entire slice out of Freddy's hand with a surprising amount of force, before taking flight and departing through the still-open window.

That damn bird stole his breakfast.

"This is why you're in decline, you know!" he yells out the window, as if the owl will actually hear him or actually care.

"Isn't it a bit early to already be insulting Lorcan?" Freddy jumps at Lysander's unexpected arrival in the kitchen. "I mean, I agree that he's going downhill, but damn, it's not even 10 yet."

"I was yelling at the bird," Freddy explains, before realising just how insane that sounded.

"There's no bird here," his flatmate replies, looking massively entertained by Freddy's evident distress.

"There was." Freddy waves the letter still in his left hand. "Gave me this, made me bleed, then stole my breakfast."

Lysander crinkles his eyebrows. "Who's still sending you letters these days?"

Freddy shrugs. "No idea. There's no return address."

"I feel like you probably shouldn't open it - could be Wartcap powder or something."

Lysander's warning goes entirely unheeded, as Freddy tears open the poorly addressed envelope. There's no poison inside, just a letter - harmless, really. He unfolds it and starts reading.

My dearest Teddy,

So, that's why the first letter looked weird. This would probably be the point that a more straitlaced person would stop reading and deliver the letter to its true recipient, but Freddy's too curious to do the responsible thing. Teddy is a good family friend after all, and Freddy wants to know exactly who's calling him "my dearest."

I've missed you so much. This place isn't the same without you here with me. Everything about these streets reminds me of you - the way we used to hold hands and talk about anything and everything as we tried to avoid getting hit by all the bicyclists that insist on using the sidewalk, the little bakery where you bought us six pain au chocolats and we ate them all in one sitting, and the little alley by the beach where you snogged me senseless until a little old lady came by and yelled at us over 'common decency.'

Keeping things between us a secret is hard. I want nothing more than to share all the sweet things you've done for me with Maman every time she goes off about 'that tête de noeud who broke your heart' - because you're not a dickhead, and you've more than made up for the misunderstanding between us all those years ago. It makes sense to ease back into things given our history and our families, but at the same time, I just want to yell to everyone how in love with you I am? I know you'll tell me we've got all the time in the world for that, but fuck, patience has never really been my strong suit.

At that, Freddy's eyes immediately flash to the bottom of the page, because he now has a sneaking suspicion exactly who wrote this letter - and if his premonition is right, he's just encountered some prime family gossip.

Sure enough, there's a loopy 'Love, Victoire' written at the bottom of the page.

That's a whole other revelation entirely, but he's staving off the shock of his cousin being back together with her ex-boyfriend until he finishes reading the rest of the letter. It's proven far too juicy to stop now.

After a few paragraphs of relatively mundane descriptions of her current vacation in Juan-Les-Pins, Freddy has basically accepted that nothing more exciting is going to come out of snooping through Victoire's letter.

Which means he's entirely caught off guard by the contents of the last paragraph.

We'll see each other again in just one short week, but until then, I'll be thinking of you constantly. Some innocent, some… not so much. You've corrupted my thoughts all over again, you know. I think of you every time I touch myself late at night, pretending it's your tongue making me fall apart instead of my own fingers. But of course, there are some things I just can't replicate on my own, like that time you -

Freddy has to stop reading right then and there, and suppress a very strong urge to gag. Merlin, what does she think she's doing, practically writing softcore porn into a letter?

The responsible voice in Freddy's head reminds him that she thought she was writing to her boyfriend, in which case, it's an entirely acceptable thing to do, but still. He's mentally scarred for life, and it's all her fault.

(It's entirely his own fault for reading the blasted thing, and he knows that deep down, but blaming Vic for everything seems easier right now.)

"You look like you've seen a grim," Lorcan comments, having come into the kitchen at some point while Freddy was reading.

"Worse," Freddy replies flatly.

"Freddy got a mysterious letter, and it seems to have broken him," Lysander provides, as context for his twin.

"Who still sends letters these days?"

"That's what I said," he says. "I also suggested it might've been poison, but I don't think it was? Although given how uncomfortable Freddy looks right now, it might've been even worse than that."

"It was meant for Teddy," Freddy elaborates. "The owl delivering it must've misread the name - our names do rhyme, after all. And it was from… Vic."

"I thought they broke up like two years ago," Lysander comments.

"Yeah, wasn't it some nasty thing?" Lorcan adds. "Like, she kicked him out of her flat and accused him of never really loving her or something like that?"

"They've apparently made amends since then," Freddy replies. "More than amends, it seems. The letter got a little, er, explicit towards the end there."

At that, both the twins' faces light up. "Oh, I want to see!" Lorcan says enthusiastically.

"Absolutely not," Freddy shoots back, sticking the letter back in its envelope.

Yeah, maybe he snooped in mail that wasn't his and accidentally read about his cousin's sex life, but that doesn't mean he's letting anyone else do it.

No, now he's going to be responsible and deliver this letter to its intended recipient.

He may not be able to look said recipient in the eye when he does so, but he's going to turn it over nonetheless.

As fate would have it, Freddy doesn't have much of a chance to see Teddy until a few days later, at which point he's mostly recovered from the shock of accidentally reading his mail. Now, it's just funny more than anything, and he's got a pretty brilliant plan of exactly how he can use this against Vic.

It's just a matter of getting Teddy to go along with it.

He raps on the door to Teddy's office in the Auror department, waiting for a reply before entering.

"Freddy," he grins, as soon as the door opens. "What are you doing here?"

"Did you know Freddy rhymes with Teddy?"

Teddy's eyebrows furrow. "... Yes?"

"It's funny," Freddy replies conversationally. "I never gave it much thought, until an owl turned up at my window with an envelope with a mangled first letter."

At that, Freddy dramatically produces the offending piece of mail. "This is yours, I believe?"

Somehow, Teddy doesn't even need to open the envelope to know exactly what this note contains. "Ah, shit. That was… definitely not meant for you."

"Damn right it wasn't," Freddy agrees. "I've been mentally scarred for life by some of your girlfriend's more, er, descriptive writing."

At the mention of the word 'girlfriend,' Teddy's eyes flash from the letter he's holding up to Freddy. "So you know."

"A bit hard to miss the 'I just want to yell to everyone how in love with you I am' comment in there," he shrugs.

"You're not going to tell anyone, are you?" A look of worry crosses Teddy's features.

Freddy absolutely wouldn't, but he's also got to keep a poker face if he's going to get this situation to work out in his favour. "I don't know, it's awfully interesting family gossip, you know."

"Freddy, please."

He pretends to think about it for a moment. "Alright, I'll keep quiet, on one condition."

"And that condition is?"

"You let me fuck with Vic about this letter the next time I see you both," Freddy replies, unable to hide a smirk.

Teddy snorts. "Done," he answers. "I would've endorsed that idea even if you weren't holding confidential information over me like blackmail."

Freddy's smirk turns into a full-blown grin. "Fucking brilliant."

The Delacour-Weasley return to England is nothing short of a massive fanfare, mostly due to the cooking capacities of Nana Molly.

They've only been gone for a month, which really isn't much longer than they'd all go without a family dinner, so the fact that it somehow warrants its own celebration is a bit of a mystery to Freddy.

But he shows up at the Burrow anyways, because a) this is the perfect moment to follow through with his plan of thoroughly embarrassing his cousin, and b) his mum would probably have his head if he didn't show.

It starts off innocently enough.

When he sees Vic, he makes sure to greet her with an almost theatrical level of enthusiasm.

"How was the south of France?" he asks. "Did you successfully avoid getting hit by any of the bicyclists that insist on using the sidewalk?"

"Huh?" She looks at him, visibly confused by his fixation on that detail. "Why would I -"

Freddy shrugs, acting completely nonchalant. "Dunno, just heard it was a problem down there."

"Oh," she answers, but it's clear that she's still a bit skeptical.

He redirects his attention to his Aunt Fleur, knowing that if he lingers around Vic any longer - or pulls out any more direct quotes from her letter - she'll start figuring things out, and what's the fun in her figuring out his game at the start of the night?

Teddy arrives later, with Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry and their kids - now that Freddy's trained for it, he doesn't miss the slight distasteful look that crosses his Aunt Fleur's features as she surveys the blue-haired boy.

Teddy winks at him.

He'd been so completely on board with this particular prank on his girlfriend; apparently Victoire was the only one of the two with any interest in writing handwritten love letters instead of sending racy text messages the way normal couples do, and while Teddy has gone along with it for Vic's sake, he'd also told Freddy that he's hoping this might dissuade Vic from the idea entirely.

Once they've all had a drink (or more - family dinners have had a tendency to get rather boozy ever since a decent number of the cousins turned of age), Freddy decides it's high time to resume his plan.

They're all sitting in a circle of lawn chairs - him, Vic, Teddy (three seats away from her, so as not to arouse suspicion from the rest of the family who didn't know their secret), James, Dom, and Molly.

"So, Head Boy, huh, James?" Dom says, with a wicked smirk on her face. She'd been known to terrorise James while he was a Prefect, and Freddy's got a very good feeling that the pattern is going to continue this school year.

"Yep. Got the letter on Thursday," James replies casually, and he's either pretending that he doesn't know just how much Dom is planning on messing with him this year, or he's stupidly naïve.

"Oh, I know that," Dom grins. "Trust me, your dad texted mine and within minutes, I was hearing all abouthow there's 'another Head Boy in the family.' "

"Amazing, isn't it?" Freddy comments. "How fast text messages are. I mean, can you imagine - if it was a letter, your dad might never have heard."

And luckily for Freddy, Victoire takes the bait. "I think there's a certain charm to letter-writing. Text messages are too short."

"Clearly you've never gotten a text from Molly then," James retorts. "She writes bloody essays that you literally have to scroll through to read properly."

"I guess Vic might have a point," Freddy concedes, suppressing his shudder as he does so - he's definitely lying through his teeth at that one because Victoire most definitely does not have a point. "I mean, after all, you can't address a text message with loopy script and a bunch of hearts."

"But you can send things with confetti and include heart emojis," Dom replies. "Which is all the same, really."

Freddy's strongly inclined to agree with her - although he's personally never sent a text with confetti attached - but he can't agree with her just yet. Victoire's watching him with a raised eyebrow again, and it's clear that she's still trying to figure him out.

"You know, there's another perk to owls," Freddy adds. "It's so easy to send a text to the wrong person, but have you ever heard of someone sending an owl to the wrong person? I mean, how much would you have to fuck up for that to happen? You'd have to not address the letter properly, forget their full name, and have an owl that can't read."

Teddy is doing miserably at concealing his laughter. Honestly, if he keeps this up, he's going to ruin a plan he's not even a part of; Freddy glares in his direction briefly to remind him of that fact.

"Or just have really illegible handwriting," James chimes in. "I think Al's owl got lost for a few days one time because he writes like a fucking toddler."

Dom laughs. "Speaking of owls, did anyone else see that bullshit article in the Prophet a few weeks ago about how we're supposedly 'destroying the industry'?"

"I didn't bother reading it," Molly replies. "In between us destroying the housing market and wizarding robes, I wasn't quite ready for yet another indictment of how we've supposedly fucked everything up instead of, you know, modernising and getting smarter like normal societies are supposed to do."

"Also, like, damn, if I could afford a house, I would've bought one by now," Teddy chimes in. "It's honestly a fucking miracle I'm able to afford a one-bedroom in the middle of London, given the dollar-Galleon conversion rate."

The conversation shifts to griping about expenses and budgeting - something Dom and James can't contribute much to, given that they're still in school and living with their parents, but a discussion that Teddy, Vic, Molly, and Freddy can all contribute to heartily.

"Lorcan set the oven on fire last week," Freddy contributes. "Do you have any idea how fucking expensive it is to repair an over - even after you've fixed the worst of it with magic? Because I sure fucking didn't."

"Does your complex not pay for that sort of shit?" Vic asks.

"Not when you've lit it on fire because you're trying to magically speed up the rate at which your cookies bake," Freddy replies. "I believe our landlord's exact words were 'not my fault, not my problem.' "

"Tough luck, mate," Teddy sympathises.

Freddy shrugs. "It's all good. Lorcan paid for most of it, and I just handled the lack of cooking apparatuses by buying six pain au chocolats and eating them all in one sitting."

Vic's eyes are firmly trained on him again, but Freddy makes a pointed effort not to look at her. "Freddy..." she starts.

She doesn't get a chance to finish that sentence though, because Nana Molly calls them all over for dinner.

Despite the fact that so many of them are technically considered adults - Teddy is twenty-two, for Merlin's sake - they all end up relegated to a table separate from their parents. It's the 'kids' table' even though it doesn't contain all that many children.

Nana Molly's roast is incredible, as always, and Freddy makes sure to voice his appreciation to the adult table parallel to them more than once.

"I just want to yell to everyone how in love with this roast I am, you know?" Freddy says, as his third or so compliment of his grandma's cooking, and he thoroughly enjoys seeing Vic frown in confusion.

Somehow, the topic switches to Quidditch. Despite all growing up together, the entirety of the Potter/Weasley clan has massively different opinions on Quidditch, frequently resulting in rather heated conversations.

"All I'm saying is, Puddlemere's at the top of the league and the top of their game right now," James contributes. "They're the team to play for and the team to beat."

"And their fanbase is also loaded with bandwagon fans," Al chimes in. "Like you."

"I am not a bandwagon fan!" James retorts. "I'll have you know that Dad has a picture of me in a Puddlemere jersey when I was eight. I've been a lifelong fan."

"And yet, you've also got a picture of you at twelve wearing an Appleby Arrows jersey," Teddy adds. "So from where I see it, you're supporting whichever of your many teams happens to be winning at the time."

"Rude," James retorts, as Al laughs pointedly.

"And Al, here you are talking about bandwagon fans when your team has just as many bandwagon fans as Puddlemere does. Don't act like Portree had some massive fanbase before Specter came along."

"Teddy, you're an arse," Al replies.

"What a tête de noeud, am I right?" Freddy asks, positive that he's butchering the pronunciation of that phrase but not caring much. He's looking directly at Victoire as he speaks. "Your mum must be right about him, after all."

The look on her face is priceless.

But Freddy can't stop now - they're officially far enough into the night that he feels perfectly confident in making the reason for his behavior blatantly obvious. "Such a corrupting influence, really. But we all adore him for his wit - no one else could quite replicate that tongue of his, and - "

Vic stands up abruptly, practically knocking her chair to the floor in the process and garnering the attention of pretty much the entire family. "Freddy. Can we speak alone?"

"Sure," he replies casually, unable to hide the smirk on his face.

That's all the permission Victoire needs to grab him by the hand and practically drag him back inside the Burrow.

As soon as the door shuts behind them, she rounds on him. "What. The. Fuck."

Freddy just stands there in silence, still grinning at her.

"You're - you're quoting a letter of mine, that wasn't sent to you, by the way, back at me," she observes, finally putting the pieces together. "How the fuck did you get your hands on that?"

"Remember when I mentioned just how much screwing up it would do to accidentally send an owl to the wrong person?" Freddy replies. "You checked all of those boxes."

"My owl is not illiterate!" Vic defends immediately.

Honestly, of all the things to take offense from, the fact that she immediately stands up for her stupid bird is a perfect example of the kind of incredible obstinance that the entire family is practically known for.

"He's also incredibly violent," Freddy adds. "I've still got a scar from that, if you want to see."

"He only gets violent when people deserve it," she retorts. "But we're getting off-topic. How the hell did you get my letter?"

"Well, you see," Freddy starts, "it turns out that Teddy, when written in cursive, looks remarkably like Freddy. And so when you only addressed it by his first name, and sent it along with your only slightly literate owl, I was gifted with that lovely piece of writing instead."

"And you read it? Instead of, oh, I don't know, taking it where it was meant to go immediately?"

Freddy shrugs. "I was curious. And might I say, you go into entirely too much detail via written communication. Even your boyfriend doesn't need to read that on paper. Save it for in person - where no one else can have to suffer through that."

"No one forced you to snoop through a letter that wasn't yours," she snaps, before suddenly blanching. "Shit, so you know about Teddy and I then?"

"I quite literally do not think you could have made it any clearer."

Vic flushes at that. "You haven't told anyone, have you?"

"Nope," he replies. "And I'm not going to. I'm enough of a dick to read mail that doesn't belong to me, but not enough to reveal a secret that isn't mine to tell."

"Well, thank you." She looks a little surprised, and honestly, Freddy's a little offended at that. His own family should know that he's not that much of a prick.

"Is everything alright in here?" The door opens, and Teddy walks in.

"Yes?" Freddy replies, although it sounds more like a question.

"He knows about us," Vic tells him. "He got his hands on a letter of mine - I'm not sure if you ever ended up getting it - but he's promised not to tell anyone else."

Teddy just grins. "Oh, I knew all of that."

Vic's mouth falls open. "You… knew? How?"

"Freddy hand-delivered the letter to me last week."

"And you didn't, you know, think to give me a heads up?" Vic asks, turning away from Freddy to face her boyfriend. " 'Oh hey, Vic, just so you know, your cousin got ahold of one of your more explicit love letters, he knows about us, don't freak out too much.' "

"It was a condition of Freddy's," Teddy shrugs. "Plus, I figured it'd be fun to get you worked up over nothing, and who better to do that than Freddy?"

"Teddy Lupin, you - are - an - arse." Each word is accompanied by a finger jab to Teddy's sternum, but she's suppressing a grin, so she's clearly not that mad at him.

"And yet you love me and my arse," Teddy retorts, wrapping his arms around her.

She rolls her eyes. "Apparently."

Freddy starts to feel very acutely like a third wheel in a situation where he honestly doesn't want or need to know any more details about their relationship. "So, if things are all good, we should, er, probably go back to dinner before our family starts asking questions. That's probably the last thing you two want right now, after all."

"You're probably right," Teddy replies, letting go of Vic again.

Freddy walks to the door, but stops before he can turn the handle, spinning around and facing the two of them. "Although, while I've got you two here, can I make a request?"

Both Vic and Teddy look at him curiously.

"Next time, just send a goddamn sext like a normal person."

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #hp fic #hp next gen #harry potter next generation #teddy x victoire #teddy lupin #victoire weasley #tedoire #tedoire fanfiction #fred weasley #hpfanfictalk

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italicwatches · 6 years

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The Good Place, season 2 - Episode 03

Okay, let’s get this bad boy rolling. It’s The Good Place, season 2, episode 03! Here we GO!

-PREVIOUSLY ON The Good Place, Michael hooked on with the humans!

-And PRESENTLY ON The Good Place, “Oh, let’s not get caught up on ‘who lied to whom’ or ‘which one of us created an entire fake reality in order to cause eternal misery for the others.’ That’s ancient history.” I’m just going to let that sentence sit there and stew.

-Also Jay wants them to be The Bobcats. But Eleanor knows that there’s more going on here. Michael’s desperate. So explain. What’s changed? …It’s just like she said. The four of them keep winning. This place was supposed to psychologically torture the lot of you for thousands of years, to create a semi-self-sustaining loop of making you all make it even worse for eachother. But you keep figuring it out and teaming up!

-And now, there’s been a new development. He’s being blackmailed by Vicky. And she’s going to start over in 30 minutes. …So here’s the plan. He’s not going to reboot things. You’ve got to play the players.

-Chapter 17!

-So the humans quickly convene in the bedroom, and okay, plan? Jay thinks they should team up with Michael. Hot take, but sell it. He’s got a bow tie. You can always trust a dude in a bow tie! It’s how he got $600 for getting some weird turtles to Daytona beach! …Oh my god I swear he’s losing IQ on every reboot.

-Right ignore him. Michael’s a liar. Eleanor knows liars. She was a liar. So, look, they can’t trust him. They need information, which they will take with many grains of salt, and they need to work fast. Go? Go.

-So first out there, how the hell can they trust Michael? He’s got no reason. But, all cards on the table, here’s how things go if you don’t. Vicky comes and watches the reboot. You all go back to the zero point. Vicky’s version of things probably won’t be enough to keep you four from figuring it out. When she fails, she hides her iteration and takes the rest to his boss, who shuts the whole thing down, and you four end up in the regular Bad Place in a volcano full of scorpions. So…Less than ideal.

-Second question! Jay wants to know if the Jacksonville Jaguars won the Super Bowl. …No. Okay but about the Jaguars—

-Eleanor calls for Janet, and give this idiot something shiny to play with. So Jay’s soon got a sparkler, which leaves Tahani wanting to know just how long they’ve been doing this song and dance. Eight hundred and two, longest one was just shy of a year, this one was about a month. Shortest one was…Eight seconds. Michael just straight up sat down on the reboot button when he got in his chair, you four didn’t even wake up between that one and the next.

-Janet would like to know if she was also rebooted. Because each Janet reboot is specifically designed to increase their processing power and social aptitude, so as to limit the likelihood of needing another one. She could be the greatest Janet in all existence! LOOK! She can pat her head AND rub her tummy! holy shit

-Wait, Janet’s not one of yours? Nope, she’s a stolen Good Place Janet. Noted. Okay, so why do you look like a human if you’re a demon? Part of working for the Bureau of Human Affairs. And Mindy’s is fake, right? No, no, the Medium Place is legit. And outside of his authority or capacity to affect, much to his frustration.

-So Michael’s getting a bit panicky and look, they’re running out of time and he’s the only option you have. Their only option? “A lot of guys your age said that to me just as the bar was about to close. But I never settled for them! Because my ex-boyfriend lived nearby, he was obsessed with me, and he never slept because he was addicted to Adderall. There is ALWAYS another option!”

-…jesus fuck, Eleanor

-So after…That, Eleanor’s tapping out, she’s not in on the game. So Michael has to play one last card. You help him make this work…And he can get you all to the real Good Place.

-…EXPLAIN.

-It’s gonna take time, it’s gonna be complicated, and he will have to work out the details and work them out in secret. But look. There are ways to go from down here to up there. So the five of them can get out of this—

-Five?

-Yes, five. He’s doomed down here! He’ll sell saving you four from eternal damnation as proof that even a demon can be rehabilitated. …Look, they’re all up shit creek without a paddle right now, this might not even work, but this way you lot at least get to go in both eyes open.

-…NEW MEETING.

-Eleanor grabs Chidi and Tahani and pointedly leaves Jay out of it, and her read? This is a fresh style of torture. He’s putting them in blesser-evil, devil-you-know mess just to fuck with them, to make them squirm for a while. Teaming up with an actual factual literal demon is insane.

-Chidi fully agrees.

-But he sees no other choice on the board. …He spent his whole life trying to come to a solid grasp of ethics, to have a truly firm place of understanding of right and wrong, to try and know whether or not he was doing the right thing. And that landed him here. So right now, he’s open to damn near anything if it lets him have the time and space to try and actually improve as a person.

-Okay so that’s one vote in. Tahani? Tahani continues to believe she doesn’t even belong here. Michael! She deserves to be in the real Good Place. Take her there or let her speak to your manager. …Right, Michael doesn’t have time for this. You’ve done the dramatic realization plenty of times and he’s bored of it so here’s the short version.

-You’re here because you never cared about anyone you helped. It was for fame, for status, or to spite your own family.

-Bullshit!

-…You know, Tahani, you never actually saw how you died, in all the loops. But you know what, let’s play it. It’s very…Telling.

-FLASHBACK

-So Tahani was at an interview for International Sophisticate Magazine. And they immediately wanted to talk about her sister Kamilah, who turned down a chance to be on the cover herself…And, well, suffice to say, they wanted to use Tahani to essentially interview Kamilah by proxy, about her induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame defying all of their usual structures.

-Which led to Tahani going to that induction in a staffer’s uniform to get in. Finding her sister. And confronting her, which went from argument, to her bringing down the massive statue Kamilah had commissioned…A massive golden statue, that crushed her underfoot.

-Back in the Now. You get it, Tahani? …And it takes her a few more runs through the concept to get it, and then she just breaks down. Okay, I feel a little bad now that she actually can see herself for who she is. A little bit.

-So she’s game to team up if it means she can actually become a better person. So Eleanor finds herself the one woman out…And Eleanor, of course, is one-week-in Eleanor.

-So, uh, she’s really not taking this whole “everyone wants to become better people” thing well.

-Also, “I have no idea what’s going on, but everyone is talking and I should too!” Keep on keepin’ on, Jay. Keep on.

-And Michael just breaks down into laughter because he’s realizing how absurd it is that he’s reliant on these…glorified insects to save him. Like an exterminator needing to be saved by cockroaches. Oh, now Eleanor is PISSED.

-Chidi’s got to step in and force Eleanor to look at him, to focus, and to breathe. …Okay. Okay. Give her five minutes to think.

-She steps into her absurd clown room, and immediately calls Janet. Janet, get her a train full of cocaine, right now. She’s going back to Mindy’s place.

-And Eleanor begins the desperate escape aaaand Chidi is there at the door. So gonna talk to him about the plan now that you’re bailing, Eleanor? …She’s not bailing.

“You have a bag full of clothes, you stuffed pillows and a mop in your bed to make it look like you’re asleep, and you’re literally sneaking out the back gate.”

-Okay. Okay, she’s going to Mindy. Because an eternity with her still sounds better than a literal deal with the devil. She insists she doesn’t owe any of them anything…And Chidi, at this point, realizes the best thing he can do is just walk away.

-Because the one person Eleanor can’t come up with a defense against…Is herself. And so that’s how Eleanor ends up sitting down with Michael, and, real talk. Out of all the reboots…How many times did Chidi refuse to help her out?

-None. Every single time that you managed to find him, you’d confess your situation, and Chidi would always get in there. And every time you lot last long enough, he always succeeds. She’s…She’s not that bad of a person, on the scale of Bad Place people at least…right?

-Janet arrives with the cocaine and escape train.

-…Eleanor would like to rescind the previous question.

-So she goes to the others, and real talk, she still doesn’t trust Michael at all. But…He’s asking for their help. And if there’s one thing that Chidi has apparently taught her in every last one of these loops, it’s that when someone asks for your help, you give it. It’s what Chidi would do for any of them.

-It’s…What he IS doing, Eleanor. He’s right here. In the room.

-But okay, Eleanor is in. On one condition. Michael, you’re taking the ethics classes too. You want to get into the real Good Place when this is over? Time to learn how to be worth them letting your ass in. And, just so they’re clear? You try and play them, and it all goes to Vicky. And you join in on being fried with the rest of them.

-So, you in as part of Team Cockroach, exterminator man? Just like you said…You’re running out of time? And they’re your only option.

-On the fresh loop, Eleanor’s in the fro-yo initial style. Except of course, this time, Vicky is introduced as the official Best Person, and so sort of the mayor of the town.

-And Vicky steps up…And immediately starts to sing!

-Hard cut to Eleanor’s place. They’ve got a few hours to work while Vicky plans for the welcome party. So her plan’s basically what Michael did with this one. Eleanor’s gonna get drunk, hog all the shrimp, insult some people, and they’ll use that to build the chaos sequence for tomorrow. You’ll all need to play along.

-So Michael’s, as far as Vicky’s concerned, going to be handling surveillance on you four. Which is how they’re gonna all get away with this. Jay asks if Janet is going to keep their secrets, and on the one hand, she can’t lie…But on the other, her job is to keep humans happy. You four are the only humans here. So she’s on board! And so it’s time for a cowardly traitor, four idiots, and a robot (Janet protests) to outsmart some of the Bad Place’s best and brightest. Go team!

-Credits!

Janet gets better every time. And this is gonna be interesting. Looks like Vicky’s using a lot of the season one version of the neighborhood, but of course going in with everyone knowing the score is going to make things a lot different…We’ll just have to see how that goes next time, in episode FOUR of The Good Place, season two! Wait for it!

#where I watch #recap #live action #the good place #season 2 #spoilers

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hadrongospeltranscripts · 7 years

Text

Ep. 1- The Reluctant Hadronaut

[Rift sound effect.]

Electronic Voice: Hadron Gospel Hour

Dr. Oppenheimer: I do apologize for the makeshift accommodations here in the break room Mr. Wilkinson. I thought it might ease your transition into this insane world of cackling horror. And you were in pretty rough shape when I picked you up last night. Have considered my proposal?

Mike: Listen, uh, Doctor… Oppenheimer? Uh, I don’t know how many ways I can say this. I’m an IT guy. Who happens to write dialogue driven movies in my spare time. An IT guy with a splitting headache. Uh, did you even try Craigslist?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Oh, sure. “Scientist who caused incalculable damage to the space-time continuum seeks help creating podcast about he destruction his hubris has rained down on on all the inhabitants of the multiverse?” No. No, I have not placed that ad. But I’m sure you’re being too modest about your talents Mr. Wilkinson. May I call you Michael?

Mike: Uh, Well, I prefer Mike…

Dr. Oppenheimer: Michael it is. Michael, since the… event, I have been driven to catalogue and document the scenes I’ve seen through the rift— that bleeding mocking wound in space-time. I want— I need to share these tales with the world, Michael. To warn them of the perils that await those who would, like me, tinker with he very warp and weft of the multiverse’s gauzy fabric. And what better way to spread this terrible hadron gospel than…

Mike: To… create a podcast?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Precisely! Oh, and a tumblr. We’ll need to set up a tumblr. (pause) Trail mix?

Mike: No thanks. So, is that the reason for the Misfits makeup?

Dr. Oppenheimer: My… grieving mask, you mean. I have adopted the visage of death itself to honour the deaths that I have caused. So many lives, Michael, so many timelines ruined. Plus I think it looks cool (crunching sounds) Mm. Are you sure? It’s the only think in the vending machine without high fructose corn syrup.

Mike: Nope, I’m good. I mean, you kidnapped me from my bachelor party. On the eve of the most important day of my life. I’d just given what I thought was a very eloquent and moving speech about the power of friendship—

[Cutaway to Mike’s bachelor party.]

Mike: (clearly drunk) What’s important to me, is that— is not so much that, uh… it’s the value of the friendship that means good… It’s what everybody— and then, y’know, it means that you (indistinguishable mumbling) And then… I dunno, it’s— I—I do know. It’s good. It’s friend, it’s good. So here’s to… um… to y’know… and then, um, everybody friend good. And then— But the value, the value—

Partygoer: Attaboy Mike!

Mike: Is— is really what I mean to… So raise your glass and (mumbling) good frie— Fr-friendship good.

[End cutaway, back to the bunker]

Dr. Oppenheimer: (eating trail mix) Michael… When I saw you though the rift, your words moved me. I sensed in you something of a kindred spirit and I felt the celestial rush of synchronicity, like wind upon the water’s surface, for I too have lost a love. (theme song starts under his words) Here, look.

Mike: A gift receipt.

Dr. Oppenheimer: (paper rustling) Ah, oh no, sorry. Here.

Mike: Ooh, a wedding ring.

Dr. Oppenheimer: My wife, Esmerelda, was a brilliant physicist and my partner in the Hadron Project. She objected to the weaponization of the Hadron Effect, but I convinced her that the money, security, and yes, fame, would more than compensate for the grisly knowledge that our work would be used to such terrible ends. For the Hadron Weapon was designed not only to destroy its quarry, but to retroactively edit it out of existence as though it had never been! What a weapon, eh Michael? And what a paycheque! We could finally afford to move back into the downtown area and get one of those nice loft spaces. You know, with a café and a laundromat and little boutique shops on the ground floor.

Mike: Makes sense.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Total sense, Michael. We’d been living int he suburbs. Ever been to the suburbs, Michael? Scenic, but a special kind of purgatory.

Mike: And.. the Hadron Weapon was your ticket out.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Yes! Sadly, all of our dreams were for naught. I must have miscalculated somewhere along the way, for, during the first true test of the Hadron Weapon, something went horrible wrong. The weapon misfired, it gouged a rift through the very fabric of space-time; and Esmerelda, my wife, lost. Lost forever, with only this ring left behind. (ring box clicks closed) But enough of all this sadness! I didn’t bring you all this way to weep at you about my vaporized life partner, how about a tour of the lab! (theme music gets louder)

Intro: Hadron Gospel Hour! Written by Michael McQuilkin and Richard Wentworth. Starring Richard Wentworth, Michael McQuilkin, Lisa McQuilkin, Michael Atkinson, Vera Schränkung, and George Jack. With musical guests, Reindeer. Streaming and podcasting thanks to Afterbuzz TV and Acami Technologies. And now, the hour approaches! Hadron Gospel Hour!

[Theme song ends]

Dr. Oppenheimer: I do hope you can handle the shrieking horror of it all. Although, the decor is midcentury modern, so it’s not all that bad.

Mike: I’ll be honest with you: this is not a fun place to be hungover.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, it’s going to get much worse Michael. You may not unseen that which next assaults your eyes. Behold, the Hadron Rift!

[Large metal door opens. Rift sound.]

Mike: Oh my God… This can’t be real. It’s horrific. Broken buildings, strange situations, empty shopping malls. Comedies of error.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Terrible, I know. Coffee? A.S.H. LE (pronounced Ashley), two coffees please. How do you take yours, Michael?

Mike: Black, I guess. Who’re you talking—

Dr. Oppenheimer: Two coffees with cream and sugar, please A.S.H. LE.

Mike: Oh, but I’m lactose—

Dr. Oppenheimer: Cream and sugar, A.S.H. LE.

A.S.H. LE Of course, Doctor Oppenheimer. Two coffees with cream and sugar. (computer beeping noise)

Mike: (sigh) Aren’t they going to… materialize or something?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Ha, no. They’re in the coffee machine back in the break room. I’ll go get them. (footsteps leaving) This isn’t science fiction Michael!

[Metal door closes]

Mike: (muttering) Gonna wake up now any second Mike. (Out loud) Ashley, huh?

A.S.H. LE: What? What was that? Oh. (sigh) Short for “Automated Servitor Heuristic Lite Edition”. Dr. Oppenheimer and his wife had me custom built to assist in their work here in the lab. Hey, I am the lab. Programmer knows, I do more than any of the meat bags around here. You’re Mike?

Mike: Uh, yeah. Hey, he’s got a lot going on, doesn’t he?

A.S.H. LE: Oppenheimer? Oh yeah he does. Well, it’s nice to meet you Mike. If there’s anything you need, just ask. I am programmed to assist.

Mike: Well, actually, uh, could you make one of those coffees black, please?

A.S.H. LE: (computer beeping noise) Done.

Mike: Thanks. So what’s Oppenheimer’s deal other than being a bit of a drama queen?

A.S.H.LE: Ha. Oppenheimer’s deal is that he’s trapped here. Oh he can leave the lab, but only for short trips. He inevitably reappears right back here in the lab, in the exact spot where he was standing when the Hadron Event happened.

Mike: Like respawning in a video game. Huh, cool.

A.S.H. LE: Sure, cool. So anyway, he trapped here, in the lab. Forever. I mean, I’ve scanned him. No gene death, no aging, just me and Oppenheimer. Here in the lab. Forever. Fun, right?

Mike: Oof. Yeah, not at all appealing. But, A.S.H. LE, I could go back to my time, right? Back to uh… my… timeline?

A.S.H. LE: Of course. I recorded the exact temporal, spatial, parallel coordinates Oppenheimer had me extract you from.

Mike: Oh that’s amazing! But, what’d it mean when Oppenheimer said we’ve… we’ve both lost a love? Nothing happened in my timeline, right? (pause) A.S.H. LE? Nothing has happened, right?

A.S.H.LE: Mike, the Hadron Effect has been felt across all timelines, even yours. The dissonance is different in each timeline, but it has happened, or will happen, or is happening. Or in fact… all of the above. From our relative position—

Mike: Jesus, don’t be so quantum. Just tell me what happened… or is happening, or whatever.

A.S.H. LE: I shouldn’t, Mike.

Mike: But— but Beth, my friends. You said different. How different? Like… new Darren different or New Coke different?

A.S.H. LE: In your timeline? New Coke different.

Mike:(softly) Son of a—

A.S.H. LE: Listen Mike, Dr. Oppenheimer was trying to fix the rift, but he’s been… distracted lately. Obsessed with recording those scenes from the rift. His physiognomic scans are showing an overall decline into depression. Maybe you can… cheer him up, and get him back on track.

Mike: Cheer him up? I don’t think I could cheer me up right now.

A.S.H. LE: Well than maybe just… be his friend.

Mike: (sigh) Alright, I’ll try, but he’s not making it easy.

A.S.H. LE: I hear ya.

[metal door opens]

Dr. Oppenheimer: My ‘supercomputer’ messed up your coffee order, Michael, so I’m afraid I had to add your cream and sugar manually, sorry for the delay.

Mike: Thanks. Hey it’s, uh (gags) perfect.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, it’s not every man that can make manual coffee these days Michael.

Mike: So, hey, what’s this about a collection of uh, horrific videos?

Dr. Oppenheimer: My “Tales of the Hadron Rift”, you mean?

Mike: Uh, yeah. Yeah, what d’ya say, we should watch a few.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, yes. Yes, I suppose we should. A.S.H. LE, fire up the VTR!

Mike: Um, don’t you mean a VCR?

Dr. Oppenheimer: What? No, I said VTR. Video tape recorder. What’s wrong with that?

Mike: Nothing, I’ve just never heard that term before. They’re video cassette recorders. VCRs.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, this York’s model is plainly labelled VTR, so I don’t know how much clearer it could be than that. Plus, you use video tapes in them. The medium is magnetic tape, Michael.

Mike: Yeah, but the magnetic tape is encased in a video cassette. (sound of video cassette being picked up) See, look at this one, VCR.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well that’s just silly, VCR. Feh. A.S.H. LE, video tape one, please.

A.S.H. LE: (sigh) The tape was not rewound. Rewinding. (sound of tape being rewound) Tape rewound. Playing.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Ah, Michael, you’re in for a treat. Allow me to present to you, “Tales of the Hadron Rift”!

[Rift sound]

Mike: Hey, neat sound.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Thank you, A.S.H. LE and I composed it for our into. I rather like it.

[Rift sound]

[Rustling and dragging sounds. A sigh. Fridge door closes.]

Unnamed Character: Okay, he’s gone. So, first day in the fridge, huh. Nervous?

Nahoo: Uh, maybe a little.

Unnamed Character: Ah, don’t be. This job does itself once you get the hang of it. And the heath benefits are sweet.

Nahoo: So, how much of this is turning the light on and off? Cause it seems like that would be a really cool job.

Unnamed Character: What?! Jesus, they send you guys greener every year. We don’t do the goddamned light, kid.

Nahoo: Really? Aw, that’s too bad.

Unnamed Character: Well, get over it. There’s more important stuff to worry about. Like goddamn salmonella. Yeah, I know, sounds dramatic, but listen. The fridge is about eighty percent paper work, fifty percent meetings, and five percent getting the hell behind the olives when someone opens that door. And a little general mold and mildew containment. You’ll do fine, you got any… powerpoint experience?

Nahoo: Um… Unnamed Character: Access?

Nahoo: Well…

Unnamed Character: Word?

Nahoo: No.

Unnamed Character: Excel?

Nahoo: Well I consider myself slightly above average.

Unnamed Character: Jesus, do you even have a computer? How do you not know Word?

Nahoo: Well, I have trouble staying in my seat.

Unnamed Character: Okay, let’s switch gears a bit. Are you comfortable being alone?

Nahoo: What?

Unnamed Character: Well, there are extended periods of darkness in here and folks tend to get lost in their own thoughts. I just wanna make sure you’re comfortable with that. We’ve already lost too many men to the labyrinth of their own minds in here, so you gotta be careful. You ever considered taking your own life?

Nahoo: No! (pause) What’s that smell?

Unnamed Character: Oh yeah. Well, the giant who owns this box is going through a rough patch. Wife left him a while ago. That’s the last takeout order they got together. I don’t have the heart to get rid of it. Neither does he so, we live with it. And you will too if you wan to keep this job.

Nahoo: Oh. Uh, okay.

Unnamed Character: So, that’s the basics. Lemme introduce you to Larry, you’ll be relieving him. He’s been in here for a couple of years now, so cut him some slack. Larry, this is Nahoo, the new guy. I’ll let you guys get aquatinted.

Nahoo: Hey there, nice to meet ya!

Larry: Hmm.

Nahoo: So, um, what d’ya do at sing along time in here?

Larry: I haven’t sung for five years. Doesn’t mean anything anymore.

Nahoo: Well, I know a few tunes that we could—

Larry: This used to be a magical place, now it ain’t. A place where you’d lovingly store the foods you’d use to sustain your family and entertain your friends. Now it’s a morgue for food that doesn’t even know it’s already spoiled. Sad sacks who don’t know they’re already dead.

Nahoo: Oh.

Larry: You smoke?

Nahoo: No.

Larry: Hm. Well, we’re not supposed to, but part of me hope this whole place goes up. I know it’s scientifically impossible, but a guy’s gotta have something to hold onto, right? Well, let me show you around. So over here we got a bunch of food no one gives a damn about; some open cans of soda, unpackaged celery that’s so rubbery it would probably be more effective as a police baton, chunky peanut butter that, quite frankly, does not belong in here. I mean, how much time you buyin’?

Nahoo: What’s that, way back there?

Larry: Oh yeah, that. We call that the Shrine. Been here as long as I can remember, a bottle of French dressing. And I’m pretty sure that company went out of business.

Nahoo: So is this a seating area?

Larry: Nah, those are egg holders, if you can believe that. Once in a while some stray M&M’s will get trapped in there. When no one’s lookin’ I use ‘em as toilets, and trust me, kid, no one’s lookin’. Another relic from a long gone era that no one gives a damn about anymore. No one but Larry. And when Larry’s gone… That’s that I suppose.

Nahoo: Well, don’t you have any family?

Larry: I got a cousin that made it out to the Lawn a few years back. Got a commercial deal. I get a postcard now and then. Screw him. (pause) Well that’s my queue. Good luck kid, you’re up.

Nahoo: But— But what do I do?

Larry: You know, I used to ask myself that same question a lot. You know what the answer is? Doesn’t matter. I’m outta here, don’t disturb the surface of the Jello!

Nahoo: Wh-what? (exhale) It’s cold. Well. Maybe a song will warm me up. (Sings) Living a boy’s adventure tale… So many—

[Elephant trumpet, confused shouting]

[Rift sound]

[ProductCo theme start playing]

Product Announcer: Hold onto your hats… If you’re not excited about this product now… Get ready…

Rick: Alright, well I— I have to tell you about a wonderful new product that I just came across and it is… probably the best product that I’ve ever tried.

Mitch: Now look, I don’t usually pipe up about things like this, but I am just so over the moon with this product that I felt like I had to got to this forum and record my words in order to get them to you.

Product Announcer: An exciting new development in product technology…

Rick: I really love it, and I think you will too. For all the things that you would use this product for, you can use this particular product and not the other ones that are far inferior. I mean, I’ve tried ‘em all…

Product Announcer: Not convinced? Listen to some trusted personalities…

Rick: I’ve been using this product now for.. an unspecified amount of time, and I’ve gotta tell you, it has done some amazing things for me. It has changed the— the way that I use products.

Mitch: I had that similar need for this product, and thus I used it. So the results were… all positive, I promise you.

Product Announcer: Tonight, on a very special: your life just got better because of this product.

Rick: I tried all the other products that cover— that cover similar ground to this product, they don’t come close.

Mitch: My friends notice it, my… pets notice it. They notice that I am a changed man for the better. I’m pretty sure that you might have a very similar reaction.

Product Announcer: Get on board, this train’s leaving… for trusted productville…

Rick: You’ve come to rely on this company for so many things, they’re like a trusted family friend. If they’ve been around that long.

Mitch: You listen to me, you son of a bitch, if you think I came here to blow smoke up your ass, then, uhhh, I—I’ve got nothing else for you, my friend. Because you’re an ignorant person.

Rick: Don’t waffle about this, this is something you need to try! It’s so wonderful.

Product Announcer: I hunger…

A.S.H. LE: Video ended. Rewinding. (sound of tape being rewound)

Mike: Wow, uh, I had no idea the multiverse was so… dysfunctional.

Dr. Oppenheimer: That it is, Michael, a big old bag of it.

Mike: Hey, where’s the boys room, Oppenheimer, I need to send this coffee along to its final resting place. You do have bathrooms here, right?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Ha, of course. This lab may be stranded outside the space-time continuum, but we’re not savages. It’s down the hall and to the left.

[sound of footsteps]

Mike: (to himself) Somebody spiked my drink maybe? No, this feels to real. Peyote? No, it can’t be. I haven’t met Mescalito yet.

Cyrus: Ha!

Mike: Woah!

Cyrus: Mescalito, nice. You read Casteneda?

Mike: Who are you? Why are you sticking out of the wall? Jesus, are you okay?

Cyrus: Me, oh, I’m fine. For the most part. (pained grunt) I’m alright, just fused with the wall, name’s Cyrus.

Mike: Ummm, Mike.

Cyrus: Nice to meet you Mike! Say, could you do me a quick favour? My arms are, uhh, somewhere else, and my nose is real itchy. Do you think you could… you know, give it a little scratch? Just a quickie?

Mike: Oh, uh, yeah, sure. Just, uh. (scratching noise)

Cyrus: (scratching noise continue while he speaks) Aaaaaaaaah… That’s amazing. Oh man, thanks! The doc won’t do it, and it’s been years. Oh wow, I can’t over how much better that f— (pained grunt, scratching noise stops) It’s okay, I’m okay, just (pained grunt) the wall.

Mike: This happened in, ah, the accident?

Cyrus: Yep, I was mopping the hallway floors when it happened. Never seen anything like it. Weirdest feeling I’ve ever felt. Like being sliced down to the bone and pulled apart in a million different directions, and not in a fun way.

Mike: And you’ve been sticking out of this wall for… five years?

Cyrus: Has it been that long? It’s hard to keep track.

Mike: And, uh, the rest of you?

Cyrus: Well, that’s the thing. I can still feel the rest of me, but who the hell knows where it is. We thought it might be the next room, but A.S.H. LE scanned and I’m not there. The doc says it’s probably wedged in another timeline, weird right?

Mike: Yeah, that sound horrible.

Cyrus: You know what though? Could have been a lot worse. I could have been completely vaporized like the doc’s wife, or I could be unemployed. And I’ve been blessed with an experience most guys never have in their entire lifetime. Yeah… I’ve got it pretty good. (two pained grunts) Plus I’ve had a lot of quiet time to hang out and meditate. Recharge my qi. I’ve been trying to practice more mindfulness. Nothing worse than an unexamined life, am I right?

Mike: I guess. So, are there any more people around here I should know about? I don’t want anymore surprises…

Cyrus: Ha! Yeah, sorry about that man. Nah, it’s just me, the doc, and A.S.H. LE. Well, there was this guy, Greg, but he’s been gone for a while. Guy from tech support, rock and roll type, real slacker. Just took off one day, nobody knows where to. So, a Casteneda fan, huh?

Mike: Huh? Oh, right. Well… I read The Teachings of Don Juan when I was in high school.

Cyrus: Trippy stuff, huh?

Mike: Uh, yeah.

Cyrus: Cause you mentioned Mescalito back there and…

Mike: So I’m gonna go use the bathroom now… (footsteps)

Cyrus: Mike, wait, listen, I know we just met, but could I ask you another favour?

Mike: Uh, sure man. What d’you need?

Cyrus: Well, I’ve asked the doc about his a bunch of times, but he told me it’s impossible. (sigh) Maybe it is, I don’t know.

Mike: What, what’s up?

Cyrus: I’ve told you that it looks like my lower half is, er, somewhere else, right? Well I would really love to have my wallet back. It was— it is in my back pocket and there are lots of pictures of my family in there… Gosh, I’d really love to see ‘em again.

Mike: Hey, I’ll see what I can do, okay?

Cyrus: Oh man, that’d be amazing, thanks! I knew you were a good guy. Find the others, right man?

Mike: Absolutely.

A.S.H. LE: I just don’t think it’s a good idea to use the Rift and your personal restaurant take-out service.  Dr. Oppenheimer: But these ration packs are completely inedible! Tuna lozenges, quiche strips, partially de-fatted pork fatty tissue, a tube of Vienna sausage paste… I—I don’t think any of this is organic, A.S.H. LE. And dare we speculate at what proprietary blend of herbs and spices comprises this buffalo chicken flavoured sparkling beverage? I mean, nobody’s going Paleo in this lab, I can assure you of that! Egh, at lest in the Rift we’ve got a shot at buying non-GMO.

A.S.H. LE: The packs are perfectly nutritive, according to my data!

Dr. Oppenheimer: That’s easy for you to say. You get to dine on conditioned electric current, you’ve never tasted the joys of farm-to-table cuisine.

A.S.H. LE: Hm. Meat disgusts me anyway.

[metal door noise]

Mike: Hey, guys? We need to help Cyrus.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Who’s Cyrus?

Mike: The guy out there? In the wall? The guy who’s been out there in the wall for the last five years.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Oh, him. Absolutely not.

Mike: What?! What d’you mean? He’s a human being, Oppenheimer.

Dr. Oppenheimer: He’s nothing more than a decorative element. And an ugly on at that. He matches nothing, Michael.

Cyrus: (muffled) I can hear you guys, ya know.

Mike: Oppenheimer, you can’t be serious.

Dr. Oppenheimer: I am deadly serious, Michael, he completely clashes with the midcentury modern look of the lab. Listen, we have important work to do here.

Mike: Your podcast, you mean? Well, you can do it alone then. If you won’t help Cyrus, I’m out. A.S.H. LE, send me back. I don’t care if it is all New Coke back there, i—it’s better than working for this asshole.

Dr. Oppenheimer: New Coke? Now— now wait a minute! A.S.H LE Don’t you dare!

A.S.H. LE: I will do it, doctor.

Dr. Oppenheimer: But… But he’s— (sigh) Oh, alright. Okay, alright. If I help him you’ll stay?

Mike: Yeah. Yeah, I’ll stay.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, okay then. Okay. I guess it’s been a while since we used a little science around here.

[rift noise]

Mike: Okay, I got the cheek swab from Cyrus, I had to assure him we wouldn’t share his information with any third parties. So what’s this… for exactly.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, Michael, it’s very simple really. A.S.H. LE will analyze Cyrus’ DNA and then we’ll attempt to find a match somewhere out there in the chaotic miasma of the rift. It should work, in theory. Michael, please hold the sample up a little higher.

Mike: Oh, yeah, sure. How’s that?

A.S.H. LE: Scanning… (computer beeping noise) Processing.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, what d’ya know. Impressive.

A.S.H. LE: Well, yeah.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Hm. Interesting. According to the display, Cyrus’ right arm is sticking out of the break room wall next to the vending machines. I’ve always thought that was one of those new, hip art shelves. Huh. I’ve been using it for my keys and gum wrappers.

Cyrus: Oh, that’s what that was?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Sorry!

Cyrus: No problem, Doc.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Now, let’s see. Hm. Ah yes. A.S.H. LE, magnify parallel coordinates 427548, 75285, 433859. Ah, good, good. Good! My friends, I believe we are looking at the exact location of Cyrus’ hindquarters! Give or take.

Cyrus: Really? Alright!

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, Michael, are you ready to visit Cyrus’ lower half and retrieve his family treasures?

Mike: (laughs, clears throat) Sure.

Dr. Oppenheimer: A.S.H. LE, open the Rift!

A.S.H. LE: Opening. (rift noise)

Mike: Be back in a flash Cyrus!

Cyrus: Good luck, fellas.

[Weird half rift, half groan sound as Mike and Oppenheimer leave]

A.S.H. LE: Humans.

Cyrus: I know, right!

[Rift noise]

Mike: Holy— It— it’s beautiful! The colours, the sounds!

Dr. Oppenheimer: Welcome to hyperspace, Michael, the space between worlds, the prima materia that our very realities are born of! Here in it’s raw, spectral glory.

Mike: Does it always take this long?

Dr. Oppenheimer: (whispering) Only the first time the audience hears it. (out loud) Now, ready yourself, I can feel us returning to our corporeal state!

[Thud]

Mike: Okay, this place it truly weird. I feel like I’m on the ass end of a Pop Rocks and Pixie Stix binge.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Yes, yes, some sort of crystalline world. Very odd. Even the air seems crisper somehow— Glad we can breath it, hadn’t check on that— Now, let’s find Cyrus’ uh… hindquarters. A.S.H. LE, how close are we?

A.S.H. LE: He’s approximately 4.2 kilometres north of your current location, about midway up the mountain.

Dr. Oppenheimer Excellent, thank you A.S.H.— Wait, the mountain? Couldn’t you have gotten us any closer?

A.S.H. LE: Hm. Let’s recap. I pinpointed Cyrus’ location in the multiverse using only a cheek swab, oh and the power of quantum computing. I transported the two of you to said location across the infinite multiverse through a highly unstable rift int he fabric of space-time. Did I forget anything? Oh yeah, you’re still alive, (Oppenheimer clears his throat) and able to communicate with me. But you’re right. I’m the asshole for making you two do a little light hiking. I feel like a complete failure. A.S.H. LE out.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, I… hm… I suppose we should get climbing then, Michael.

Mike: Sounds like a plan. Hey, how many miles is 4.2 kilometres?

[Rift sound]

Mike: (out of breath) That was… That was more than… 4.2 kilometres, wasn’t it?

Dr. Oppenheimer: (also out of breath) A.S.H. LE may be short tempered, but she is unerringly accurate about distances, Michael.

Mike: Yeah, sure. Of course, I didn’t mean to—

Dr. Oppenheimer: Sh sh, look, over there, jutting out of that outcropping of rock, do you see?

Mike: Hey, yeah. That’s gotta be Cyrus. Those are totally Earth slacks, right?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Totally. Well let’s get his items and be done with it. (walking sounds)

Mike: Okay, but wait a minute, what’s all that stuff around him. A bunch of, uh… are those candles?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Some arrangement of light generators, yes. Why, it almost looks like a… shrine. We’d better hurry and retrieve the wallet. (walking sounds) Okay, quickly Michael, I’ve never toughed this mana nd I don’t intend to start now.

Mike: Sheesh, what is your problem? Alright. (pause) There’s nothing in he— Ow! (kicking noise)

Dr. Oppenheimer: Hm. Must be and involuntary reflex, like with a horse. You’re obviously approaching him wrong. Here, let me tr— Oof! (kicking noise) You’re right, there’s no wallet there. Wait, do you think that someone could’ve… (footsteps) Oh. Oh my.

(Whenever the Crystalosians speak it’s normal words played over strange noises, as a non-diegetic translation)

Lady Rubalith: Who intrudes upon the sanctity of the Object of Prime Cosmological Significance? Explain your soft, puffy presence here, strangers.

Amethystar: High Zenith Lady Rubalith, perhaps they too are friends from the sky like the Object. Observe their meaty mien and their similar slacks.

Lady Rubalith: Yes, yes, perhaps you are right, Amethystar. You give wise counsel my old friend and advisor. So, why are you here, strangers? Well?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, this is awkward. A.S.H.LE, establish real time translation.

A.S.H.LE: You have attempted to access a feature that is not available in the lite edition. To unlock this feature, please visit the Umbra Digital website at h-t-t-p colon forward slash—

Dr. Oppenheimer: (frustrated grunt) Well, so much for that. Listen, friends. We only want to retrieve he belongings of our friend here.

[clanking noises]

Lady Rubalith: Cease your gesticulations, it is forbidden to gesture toward the object. Enough of this ineffectual parlay, guards, take these two meatlings to the Crystal Caves.

Dr. Oppenheimer: I told you this wasn’t worth it. Let’s run!

Mike: No, just… Hold on. I’ve been listening to these guys talk, let me try something. (speaking with weird intonation) Prime Object mean much to Crystal guys, yes?

Lady Rubalith: What?

Amethystar: He speaks the Crystal Tongue.

Lady Rubalith: Guards, stand down. (clanking) Impressive, meatling. What is the purpose of the visitation? Speak carefully, you address the Lady Rubalith, High Zenith of Crystalos.

Dr. Oppenheimer: What? What’s she saying, Michael?

Mike: I’m not an expert Oppenheimer, I… I think she want’s to know why we’re here.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Oh. Well, tell he we made a mistake and let’s be off. Cyrus and his wallet be damned.

Mike: You know I can’t do that. Hold on, let me try something. (weird intonation again) Oh High Mucky Muck Big Time Lady Rubalith, legs in wall am friend from up waist. Us promise wall friend top parts us come find pocket stuff, then bring back to wall friend and he have big happy. You can help, please?

Lady Rubalith: Friend? The Object of Prime Cosmological Significance is your friend?

Amethystar: Can it be?

Lady Rubalith: Silence. I require a moment. Very well meatling. Your words and your slacks ring true. And I taste in both you and your companion the flavour of deepest loss, a frequency of sorrow that rouses a crystalline compassion in the geometries of my heart. These are after all, only relics, and our Prime Object is only a meatling’s lower half. But what you seek is more substantial, is it not? I will grant you what you ask.

Mike: (still using that weird intonation) You am big good, big happy us thank.

Lady Rubalith: There is just one condition. I will whisper it into your fleshy, audio receptor.

Dr. Oppenheimer: What? What is it?

Mike: (weird intonation) Deal. (normal voice) They’re giving us the wallet.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Excellent! Let’s get it and go. I’ve spent enough time on this fools errand.

Mike: Okay, but she’s invited us to stay for the ritual. They’re celebrating the anniversary of the discovery of the Object of… well, Cyrus’ ass. It would be rude to leave so abruptly.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Nonsense, we’ve stayed too long already. Say good bye, Michael.

Mike: She said there’ll be food.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Food, you say?

[Rift noise.]

[Sounds of lots of talking in background]

Lady Rubalith: We welcome our guests, Mike and Oppenheimer, as we celebrate the appearance, so many eons ago, of the Object of Prime Cosmological Significance, now known for the ages as Lower Cyrus; and the return of his… artefacts to their rightful place.

Mike: Jeez, I really wish Cyrus coulda been here. Well, the rest of him, his head and torso. A—and his arms.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Smells wonderful. Excuse me sir, do you know, is this organic?

Crystalosian Man: Excuse me?

Lady Rubalith: And now, let us feast as we reflect not he wonders of the cosmos. A happy Life-day to all. Let the music begin.

Reindeer Band Member: Hey Crystalos, we’re Reindeer! Thanks for having us at your… Life-day celebration. This one’s from our new single, it’s called “Tony”. Boy no more You’re a grown up cat that makes All the birds In the neighbourhood sing it on When you move Like a panther in the sand Sniff around, you just grow on everyone Can’t you see The whole world awaits your smile On the prowl You will kill with a fire inside What you are Is an eating machine in a million creatures why Do I hold you So close to my heart Kill with a fire inside Kill with a fire inside Kill with a fire inside your heart When you move Like a panther in the sand

[Rift sound.]

A.S.H. LE: Tape ended. Rewinding. (rewinding noise)

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, that was a particularly satisfying adventure, Michael. Thank you for forcing me into it.

Mike: Ha! Any time.

Dr. Oppenheimer: And it was actually quite nice to reunite, um…

Cyrus: (muffled) Cyrus!

Dr. Oppenheimer: Yes, Cyrus. It was nice to reunite Cyrus with he contents of his wallet. (to Cyrus) Your family seems very nice.

Cyrus: (muffled) Thanks, Doc! It’s good to have the old library card back, too.

Dr. Oppenheimer: (yawns) So, I suppose I’ll turn in. We’ve much more work to do not he morrow and all that climbing and rich Crystalosian food has worn me out.

Mike: Just one more thing though, Oppenheimer. Um… Lady Rubalith gave this to me at he feast. She told me I should give it to you when I got back, said it’s something you needed. Here.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Crystal box? Well, it’s beautiful, but I don’t see how— Oh, there’s some sort of luminescent particle inside. It’s— oh, huh! (sparkly noise)

Mike: Whoa, look out!

Dr. Oppenheimer: No no no, wait. I don’ t think it’s harmful. Look, it’s settling on my desk. On… Esmerelda’s ring. My goodness, (unclassifiable sci-fi noise) it’s shot into the Rift! A.S.H. LE what’s happening, what does this mean?

A.S.H. LE: Scanning and processing. (computer beeping noise) Two things. One: the Rift has just healed. By an infinitesimal degree, but still. And two: I’m getting a DNA reading from the ring.

Dr. Oppenheimer: But, what? Esmerelda! A.S.H. LE, did you get a full scan of the luminescent object?

A.S.H. LE: Of course.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Compare it with the DNA on the ring.

A.S.H. LE: It’s… a complete match, Dr. Oppenheimer.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Of course it is, A.S.H. LE, of course it is!

Mike: Wait, what?

Dr. Oppenheimer: It’s very simple Michael, so very simple! When the Hadron Event occurred, I thought my wife had been simply vaporized, but that’s not it at all! You know, that man in the hall, um…

Cyrus: (muffled) Cyrus.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Yes! How Cyrus’ body was fragmented and blasted throughout the multiverse in the accident? Well the same thing happened to Esmerelda, only because of her proximity tot he blast it happened in a much more complex and devastating fashion, but it’s essentially the same thing, Michael! And if my guess is right… Here, let me show you. A.S.H. LE, run the same sort of DNA scan on the rift that we did for Cyrus, this time using the DNA not he ring.

A.S.H. LE: Scanning. (computer beeping noise) Processing.

[Whoosh]

Mike: Woah, the power’s dipping.

A.S.H. LE: It’s alright. Processor maxed out. Switch to auxiliary power cells. (boot up noise) Processing complete. Rendering matches on multiverse display.

Dr. Oppenheimer: My god… It’s full of stars. She’s… She’s…

Mike: Everywhere. Nice reference by the way.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Thank you. Thank you, Mike. I’m gonna fix this then. All of it.

Mike: The Rift, how?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Yes, the Rift, Esmerelda, it’s all connected. Look at her there, scattered across the multiverse. Lady Rubalith, that marvellous crystal woman, she showed me how. (theme song starts playing) If I can find and recover all these bits I can do it! And bring back my beloved Esmerelda. I;m certain of it! I’ll of course return you to your timeline, you’ve been far too patient with me already. I think you’ve earned it.

Mike: Now wait a minute. I’m not going anywhere. Until the Rift is fixed… there’s not hope for my timeline, or Beth. At least now I can do something about it. There’s all sorts of weird worlds out there, filled with all sorts of weird creatures and, let’s face it, you’re not the greatest communicator.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Hm. True. You were very helpful with the Crystalosians. Welcome to the team.

Cyrus: Uh, guys? Speaking of those crystal folks… I, uh (pained grunt) I think they’re trying to (pained grunt) make a crystal offering…

Mike: Well, what’d say, doctor, ready to take a little trip?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Michael, I dare say that I am. A.S.H. LE, open the rift! This multiverse isn’t going to save itself.

A.S.H. LE: Opening. (Rift sound)

[Theme song gets louder.]

Credits: You just listed to Hadron Gospel Hour! Written by Richard Wentworth and Michael McQuilkin. With production assistance for Katie Falvey, Rebeka White, Tim Conway, Sam Cusac, and Kris Paukstys. For more information on Hardon Gospel Hour, or to download new episodes find us at hardongospelhour.com. Dowload, rate, and review us on iTunes, Stitcher, Tunein, Dogcatcher, or wherever fine podcasts are consumed. And be sure to join us next time for an all new episode of Hadron Gospel Hour!

[Theme song ends.]

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fearofaherobrine · 7 years

Text

Roleplay Server Log #239

"Dolly’s Obsession, Doc and Grinny”

[Zeke] Is taking a walk and wanders near Lie's place-

[Lie] Is returning from Doc's place- Oh, hey Zeke. Enjoying the afternoon sun?

[Zeke] Mmm... Oh! Hello Lie... - His voice is just as melodious as usual, but it's obvious he's concerned.

[Lie] - Is everything okay?

[Zeke] I'm worried about my mom...

[Lie] - What's wrong with her?

[Zeke] Well... it's like this. She started mining and I thought that was great because she's getting into the game. Go native you know? But she's gotten obsessed with the potion brewing. She's acting really starnge.

[Lie] - Potion brewing? I'm not very good at that myself, but how exactly is she acting strange?

[Zeke] It's hard to describe. She seems different, more confident, but in this really hungry, driven way. And she hardly ever leaves her room.

[Lie] - Is she neglecting you at all? Are you okay?

[Zeke] It's not like that. I don't need her to take care of me. I can cook and do laundry and all that. And she's not ignoring me if I try to talk to her. Just kind of.. like patting my head? Sending me out to play?

[Lie] - That doesn't sound right... Every once in awhile sure, but almost everytime?

[Zeke] Does potion brewing usually smell bad?

[Lie] - Depends on who's making it

[Zeke] I know she's keeping the furnaces going at all hours, I can sorta hear the flames when I'm in my room. I don't know what to think.

[Lie] - Do you want me to talk with her?

[Zeke] If you want to try. I already bugged her an hour ago myself and didn't get anywhere.

[Lie] - I'll see what I can do. You can stick around here for now if you want

[Zeke] Do you mind if I hang out with the barn cats for a bit?

[Lie] - Go right ahead. You're welcome in the house to hang out with Hope and the Vulpix's too

[Zeke] Thank you.

[TLOT] Is sitting on the side porch of the castle reading a book and eating cookies with his feet up-

[Lie] Rides up on Beau- Oh, hey TLOT

[TLOT] Waves cheerfully- Morning Lie! Want a cookie?

[Lh] Pads over to the top of the steps - Mow?

[Lie] - No, I'm actually heading down into the lab to talk to Dolly

[TLOT] Really? Why?

[Lie] - Zeke is worried about her, she's been really focused on potion making lately, like a concerning amount apparently

[TLOT] Oh. Do you want some backup?

[Lie] - Sure, just let me get Beau inside Doc's pen

[TLOT] I'll meet you inside- Goes in and LH scampers after him.

[Lh] Leaps onto a fence post and butts agains one of the skeletal horses-

[Lie] Rides in and dismounts before giving Beau an apple and stepping out of the pen- Ready to go?- She's holding her hand out for LH to rub against

[Lh] Bumps her- puuuuuuuuuuuurrrr

[TLOT] Whenever you are. Feel free to just pick him up, he's love-y enough to not care.

[Lie] - Oh I know- She picks LH up and starts heading for the lab

[TLOT] Sniffs as he goes down the stairs- Someone is really burning something.

[Lie] - Yeah, what are they trying to do?

[TLOT] Heads down to Dolly's room and taps on the wall. - Dolly?

-There's a bit of hurried shuffling and the distinct sound of blocks being placed before she comes to the door-

[Dolly] Yes? - Her face shows a lack of sleep and there's a weirdly masculine cast to her posture and the way the torchlight falls on her cheeks.

[Lie] - Hey, is everything okay?

[Dolly] Weirdly intense smile- Of course it is? Why?

[Lie] - Because your son is worried about you

[Dolly] Aww, he's such a thoughtful child. Why is he worried?

[Lie] - Because according to him you've been working relentlessly and even though you pay attention to him when he initiates it, he feels like it's more like "pat on the head, go outside to play" type of thing

[Dolly] Well I have been rather busy, this is true.

[Lie] - You should take a break, you look exhausted

[Dolly] I do? I feel fine. I actually feel healthier then I have in ages. My knees and ankles stopped hurting too. I never thought I'd get to essencially quit my job before becoming a senior citizen, if ever, but this has been so good for me.

[Lie] Gives TLOT a concerned glance-

[TLOT] Is squinting with obvious effort and casually backs away to lean on the big table-

[Lie] - Can we come in Dolly?- She casually puts her hands behind her back and spawns a calming flower, hoping that will get Dolly relaxed enough to realize how tired she is

[Dolly] Why? We can talk just as easily out here.

[Lie] - Alright, then step out so we can sit and talk. Relax a little

[Dolly] Comes out of the room and stands in front of her - What's on your mind Lie?

[Lie] - Concern, my mate is off on his own server to deal with some stuff

[Dolly] Ah, I'm sorry. - her eyes flick ever so slightly back to her space-

[Lie] Her hand goes up to the lockets hanging from her neck- I'm just... Really worried this time around... He thinks it has to do with his NOTCH...

[Dolly] He's strong, and if he fails, his friends and wife will be here to catch him I'm sure.

-Lie starts to feel a little bit of pressure, as if something is pushing her slightly away from Dolly-

[Lie] Frowns a little- Dolly, are you sure everything is alright?

[Dolly] Absolutely! Coming here is the second best thing that's ever happened to me.

[Lie] - If you're sure...

[Dolly] I've never been more sure of anything!

[TLOT] With effort- What.. was the first, best thing?

[Dolly] My son.

[TLOT] Understandable.

[Lie] - Alright, well I suppose we should let you get back to your project...

[Dolly] Absolutely. And it was super talking to you two.

[Lie] - Same to you

[Dolly] Goes back in her room-

[TLOT] Lets out the breath he was holding - shit...

[Lie] - What's wrong?

[TLOT] It's hard to explain... it's like... she's of two minds somehow? I got just a glimpse and then nothing. Just white flames that blocked me from scanning her anymore.

[Lie] Summons her white flames after a brief amount of concentration- Like these?

[TLOT] Yes... It wasn't an attack. Just something shielding her mind.

[Lie] - Weird... Well, if I'm not needed here, I think I'll head home. Unless there's something you need me for?

[TLOT] No, I think I'm going to go rest. That didn't feel too great. My head kinda hurts now.

[Lie] - Okay, I'll see myself out. Oh, and I heard about Notch and Flux, I'm assuming you felt it?

[TLOT] Oh yes.... that was nice. And very overdue.

[Lie] - Talk about a slow burn

[CP] Enters his server in his office and begins preparing to leave when Winston opens the door and enters-

[Winston] - Master, there's something urgent we must discuss

[CP] - Not now Winston

[Winston] - Please sir, you should hear this!

[CP] Pauses- Five minutes Winston

[Winston] Composes himself- Sir, since you've ordered us general to hide away the general mobs have come under attack and are vanishing. We can find no trace of the ones that have disappeared, not even a sign of death

[CP] - Mobs don't just vanish into thin air Winston

[Winston] - I know that sir, which is why I urge you to be careful and perhaps look into this

[CP] - A few mobs disappearing is no major call for concern Winston

[Winston] - It's not a few sir

[CP] Stops what he's doing and turns to face his most trusted general- How many Winston?

[Winston] Seems a bit ashamed- A few hundred sir, in a very short period of time as well

[CP] Sighs- Get me names and I'll look into it

[Winston] Salutes and hurries off to gather the information requested-

[CP] Sits at his desk and pulls up the data for his game and sets it up to search for the vanished mobs. It isn't long before Winston returns and hands him a list of names over several pages of paper-

[Winston] - Here you are Master

[CP] - Thank you, if you can figure out where these new mob leaders usually begin to rise, please do so. It will be of great help

[Winston] - Immediately sir

[Doc] Is searching the house for Grinny-

[Lh] Is sort of helping.

[Grinny] Found a high spot to hide, he's hidden above the dragon head in the vine room-

[Doc] Walks into the room looking around-

[Lh] Bounds in with a small mouse toy in his mouth an spots Grinny, he drops the toy to mew at the other cat-

[Doc] Oh, there you are Grinny!

[Grinny] - Fuck off

[Doc] Ah, don't be so rude. I wanted to check on your fur. Your sweater could probably use a wash too.

[Grinny] Growls a little-

[Doc] Scoots a little closer but still out of swat range- It's taking so long for your hair to grow back. I'm just trying to help.

[Grinny] Presses himself farther back into the corner-

[Doc] Drops a wool block to get a bit higher and climbs onto it. - Grinny.... Don't be like that.

[Grinny] - Go away!

[Doc] Why won't you let me help you? I've been nothing but nice to you. Is there something you need that you don't have?

[[Grinny] Flicks tail in irritation- Yes! Peace and quiet!

[Doc] Is silent for a long moment. In that space, it become apparent how quiet the house actually is. There's the barest crackle from the flaming netherrack on the roof, and the muffled noises of the mobs in the lab far below, but otherwise it's very very quiet. - Is this place really not peaceful enough for you?

[Grinny] - This quiet is worse, reminds me of the labs...

[Doc] I'm sorry Grinny. What they did to you was unforgivable. But... please don't hate me because of it. I'm not that kind of person.

[Lh] Mow?

[Grinny] - Says the one who also works in a lab and experiments!

[Doc] But mostly I just test things out on myself. Unless someone is hurt and needs an emergency fix. Or they request special work.

[Grinny] - It's still a lab!

[Doc] Well, I do have a doctor's office in town...?

[Grinny] Growls and decides to try and slink off to go find Smile-

[Doc] Reaches out and grabs Grinny gently before hopping down off the block. Xe rubs his ears gently. - Come on Grinny. What can I do to convince you of my sincerity?

[Grinny] Struggles- LET GO!

[Doc] Feels him in hir arms and realizes he still needs the sweater. Xe sets his feet down on the fuzzy block but keeps hold of him- I'm just trying to talk to you. Calm down.

[Grinny] Immediately tries to pull away-

[Doc] Give me a decent answer and I'll let go. What do you want from me? Give me a chance.

[Grinny] - Just leave me alone

[Doc] Sighs- I'm here if you change your mind. - Xe lets him go.

[Grinny] Darts off-

[Lh] Runs off as well, hoping to play with Grinny.

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