#i dunno why I tried to avoid religion

[localshitpostforpoorme]

Angie’s lullaby

“Atua is always watching us!“

“If you feel lonely, try to think about Him once more.“

Moon showed up a few hours ago moving slowly. Cold winter nights brought the sad mood of lone wolves calling for pack members to find them. So depressing. You are tired and unmotivated to do anything. The only rational thought was about going to bed. You wore your pajamas and turned off the lamp but a bright blue light appeared just then you went to sleep.

Were you asleep?... By opening your eyes, you found yourself at the beach. A girl is levitating while sitting in a lotus position right next to you and the other transparent figures of familiar yet exotic living creatures.

“Om'' She spoke softly. “What an exciting night. Angie sees.“

That’s true. It’s almost the 14th of February so you can’t sleep without thinking of spending that day alone.

“Lost souls shouldn’t worry.“ Creatures, including you, stare at Yonaga with disbelief. ‘How can I not worry? I never had someone to feel an actual love on Valentine's Day.‘ The most of the others shared that thought. Were you about to reject the possibility of a romantic relationship? Did you feel cursed? Even if you and your partner are not going to be a real couple, there still is a point of love-sharing acts. Does it sound wrong? Unreal? You had no clue...

“Have doubts?“ Angie put her hands above her head in a praying gesture. “Atua says we must forget all selfish wishes and focus on things beyond the stereotypes.“

She’s body started to glow with mixed purple and blue. Sand around her is shining, too. Smooth waves of warmth touched you from the forehead and speared across the whole of your one-color shell.

“Sweet loners. Living a life all by yourself when no one could prepare hot meals for you to eat, give you a hand to stand up, take care of your health if you are sick... “ Angie kept talking, you couldn’t recognize her words anymore.

It is a hard cold reality you got used to. Hugging yourself you think of such simple couple routines like sharing a place and money, going on dates, making small gifts, planning a marriage.

“Is that a love you dreamed about?“ Everyone was taken aback by a loud interruption. “Is your view of love based on material things?“

“Atua has spoken. He says we got the concept of feelings oh so wrong.“ 

But isn’t it basic? Isn’t it how couples and feelings would come out?

“Angie is not going to answer questions, but Angie wants to give you her knowledge.“ She sat on the sand and offered listeners to come closer.

“Once upon a time a powerful creature made this world.“ Sparkles, which looked like a Milky Way, slowly became a half blue and half green ball, imitating the Earth. You know for sure these sparkles follow every word Angie says.

“Years by years life was getting stronger and started to explore the surface. They got new senses as smells, tastes, pain and even loneliness. And for now we are at their place.“

“The ones on those, humans, used their intelligence to cooperate with each other. It started with barters and bounty gifts. So eventually humans forgot that they are not the owners of all these goods they have.“

Canines and felines approached Angie. She closes her eyes and lovingly pets now glittering shells.

“So at present... humanity has no idea of how Atua’s dearest children might interact to be happy. Nya-ha-ha!“

As a human here you were confused. What is she talking about? Did your kind forget how to truly love?

“That’s why Atua ask us to remind others about love.“ You took some time to process. Without the regular parts of real life which you named before, what left? Movie nights? It still needs some expensive material supplies. Brief hugs or cuddles? Yes, but you can do this with anyone. But you can’t share a place and be a family with a total stranger, right? No, still about material... But how are you supposed to be a couple without material things? Or... is love equal to being a couple? That means--- 

“By giving our time and attention, by comforting and helping without waiting for a reward we create a better society. We share true love.“ Yonaga hugged herself. “How divine, nya-ha-ha!“

That’s just insane. You can’t understand her properly. She said you can give and take ‘love‘ by things related to anyone. So it’s not about the same place? Not about papers and status? 

“Atua is nowhere and everywhere at the same time and cannot be touched, but He loves His material parts of himself. He doesn’t pay for you, doesn’t work instead of you and will never marry on the Earth. But He always forgives and loves us, living creatures. So does Angie. From the bottom of her heart.“

‘Huh?’ You were caught off guard then she stared in your direction. “And Angie means it.“ She cupped your cheeks. “Angie loves you.“

[weirdestbooks]

The Shot Heard Around The World Chapter 7

Enough Is Enough

Thirteen Colonies POV

March 18, 1766

Uncle England had just given me great news. The Stamp Act had finally been removed. Thank goodness. Now with that mess cleared up the tension in Father and I's relationship will be cleared up. My people can stop rioting and things will calm down.

"Father?" I asked him, as I stepped into his office. I knew that everything surrounding the Stamp Act was complicated, and Father didn't want to remove it, but I'm glad he did.

"Yes Thirteen?" Father said. I shifted my feet. Something in Father's voice sounded off.

"I wanted to that you for removing the Stamp Act. I know my people-"

"Don't say that." Father said cutting me off. I was confused. Did he not want me to apologize? Or was it about my people? They were my people. I could call them that.

'I knew it. The British Empire think our people are his, and only his. That's why he thinks he can tax them at will. He ignores us and our assemblies.'

'But it can't be about that...can it?'

"What? What do you mean?" I asked. Father couldn't be telling me to not call my people, my people. I had always done this. Father never seemed bothered by it before. So it couldn't be that. It...it couldn't. Right?

"The colonists. They're my people, not yours. I let you call them your people, but with my American colonists thinking they're the only ones who can place taxes, I've had to resort to other measures. Parliament had passed an act that allows us to have say in all colonial affairs. You have assemblies, but that doesn't mean you have more or equal power to Parliament." Father said.

'What the hell? What about the salutary neglect policy?'

'Our assemblies don't have power? Then why the hell would be have them?'

'That fucking bastard.'

'Does he think the colonists will be peaceful after hearing that?'

'We have governed ourselves for over a hundred years and he wants to declare that invalid?'

'FUCKING BASTARD! THEY'RE OUR PEOPLE!'

'He wants to stop riots and he does this.'

'Bastard infringing on our rights.'

'This is worse than the Stamp Act.'

'This isn't they way to bring peace between people.'

'After everything that's happened, this is where we end up.'

'Oh man. Things just got very complicated.'

'British Empire you just messed up again,'

I was shocked, my internal voices shouting more than they every had. My headache was growing, and I stumbled backwards, legs weak from shock. Father, he...he...he...why?

"Thirteen are you alright?" Father said. I shook my head.

"Why? The...it's...why?" I stuttered out before leaving the room and running back to mine, pushing Uncle Wales out of the way.

"Thirteen?" He said as I slammed the door to my room shut.

'Fucking bastard.'

'We can't just take this. We need to go back. Yell at him. He can't just...'

'But he did.'

'Dammit.'

I sighed and shoved my face into my arms. I thought with the removal of the Stamp Act, everything would be fixed. It just got worse.

"Thirteen are you okay?" I heard Uncle Wales ask.

'The rest of the British Isles most likely already know this. Why is he asking that question?'

'Probably thought it wouldn't effect us this badly.'

"Go away!" I yelled back at him. I needed time to myself. How could Father do this? They were my people. They will always be my people.

'You're a pawn, a colony. You get used for money and resources, but you don't have real power.'

'The wording is a bit dramatic, but it is a good point.'

I...Father was taking away the power in my assemblies, and talking away my right to call my people my own. Why did he think he could do that? This was the first time my people had refused to listen to Father's laws. Removing the Stamp Act would fix that, but then he had to go and pass the Declaratory Act?

I always wanted to support my Father, but after this? I was just so conflicted. I didn't understand what was happening. So much was changing. My Father isn't as good of a person as I though he was.

That was a terrifying thought to me. Father...he...he...did he really love me? Or was I really just a pawn?

'You are! Remember what Quebec said?'

Sommes-nous juste des pions sur un échiquier avec lesquels les empires peuvent jouer? (Are we just pawns on a chessboard for the empires to play with?)

'Isn't this drastic-'

'No!'

'It is. This act so horrible, but there's no need to get overemotional.'

'Our identity was just taken away and you want us to be calm?'

My headache was growing, making it harder for me to focus. My thoughts were growing louder demanding different things from me. It was making me so confused. I wanted to go back and yell at Father for doing that, but another part of me was trying to convince me to remain calm.

'Being aggressive is only-'

'Damn him! Be aggres-'

'You can't!'

'You have to!'

'We need represe-'

'Our assembl-'

'We need a say so we don't h-'

'Are they going to bring back the St-'

'We're being unreasonable.'

'Unreasonable? What about that idiotic-'

I curled up into a ball on my floor as the pain in my head grew to an unbearable amount. There we so many conflicting thoughts that just kept canceling each other out. What was I supposed to think?

Most of them were angry about this act, but a couple still were saying that we had to keep peaceful. I...I...I just wanted the Stamp Act to be removed. Father knew our reasonings. Some of my people couldn't pay that tax. And not all of my people were okay with the violence and riots.

Father knew this.

So why did he place an act that wouldn't help things. He knew my people felt that internal taxes were meant to be placed by the assemblies. Saying that the assemblies could not longer solely do that, and a government 3000 miles away had to place taxes for a people they know nothing about wasn't going to help things.

Father didn't know what my people were like. They were my people, not his. Even if they were British, they were still my colonists. He thinks their just like hie people in Britain. They aren't. They left Britain because they weren't accepted, or wanted there. They left for religion, and for money.

And then they stayed. 3000 miles is a long distance, and one hundred and fifty years was a long time. And it was enough time for my people to become different than Father's. They weren't the same. That's why the local governments are important to us, why representation is important to us. Father couldn't just place laws, or taxes without knowing what my people wanted and needed.

'We need representation if Parliament going to be allowed to have direct control over our taxes.'

The chaos of my thoughts began to calm down, as my headache began to go away. I realized that Quebec was in my room with me, and that I had been crying.

"Are you okay?" He asked. I nodded. Quebec raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure? You were crying and I kept calling your name and you wouldn't answer." Quebec said.

'We pulled him down that far?'

'I though we were just like voices.'

I wondered what that meant, but pushed it out of my mind as I answered Quebec's questions.

"I'm sure. I just had a headache. It made it hard to pay attention to things." I told him as I sat up, leaning against him. Quebec gave me a disbelieving look, but dropped the topic.

"You've been getting more headaches recently. Do you think you have an illness? Or do you think its being caused by the unrest in your colonies?" Quebec asked, as he began running his hand through my hair. I guess I really worried him.

"I'm fine. It's just a couple of headaches. It's not like they're being caused by some...I dunno...disruption." I answered him again. Quebec worried to much. I began feeling really tired, and let my head drop on Quebec's shoulder.

"Are you tired?" He asked. I nodded.

"Bad headaches make me tired. You're a good pillow." I told him as I began drifting off, my eyes slipping shut.

'You know we've been more than just voices for a while now. We've been affecting him, physically.'

'So what does that mean for the future?'

'Like we know. We'll have to wait and see.'

————————————————————— June 5, 1767

Things had been less tense then I though they would, but there was still tension between Father and I. I had tried to avoided calling using the phrases 'my people' and 'my land' in front of Father, but it slipped out sometimes. When that happened Father would just sigh and explain to me why I couldn't say that.

He always explained it to me like I was an ignorant child.

My thoughts hadn't gotten any better too. They were all so loud and my headaches had become more frequent. I hadn't had a headache that was bad enough to make me collapse again, although I was sure it would happen.

Quebec also seemed to be overly concern every time I got a headache, and I think he told Father and our uncles about me collapsing, because they get worried whenever I have a headache. They treated me like a child. I hated that.

'Of course you hate it. You're not a child.'

'And just because you're a colony doesn't mean you're not mature.'

I had a growing headache headache today as my thoughts once again battled on whether I should talk to Father about calling my people, my people.

'You should. Nothing's going to change if your just sit around and let yourself be bossed around.'

'But what if it makes things worse?'

'But what if it doesn't? If we allow British Empire to do this, then we're only sending him a message that he can do whatever he wants and we won't complain.'

'It's that what the Declaratory Act is doing? Giving him a say in all colonial affairs, in all cases?'

'So would it really matter if we put up a fuss?'

"Thirteen?" I heard Uncle Scotland say from behind me, "Are you okay? Are you having another one of your headaches?"

"No I'm fine." I said. I didn't feel like being babied today. I learned that it best just to deny it, and wait for them to leave me alone.

"Are yo-"

"Yes I'm sure! Will you guys stop babying me about a couple of headaches? They aren't even that bad!" I cut off Uncle Scotland. Uncle Scotland took a step back.

"Sorry. We're just worried about you. You've been different recently. More angry." He explained.

'And I wonder whose fault that is?'

'British Empire?'

'No you dense...never mind.'

"Well its almost like my people have been really upset over all of these ridiculous acts and taxes that have been placed on us." I told Uncle Scotland. Uncle Scotland sighed.

"I know your upset about them, but there's not much you can do other than learn to deal with them." Uncle Scotland said. I sighed. I knew he was partially right. There wasn't much I can do about them, but that didn't mean there wasn't something I could do. I could deal with this.

"Hello Thirteen." Uncle Ireland said as he walked up to Uncle Scotland and I, "Britain wants to talk to you. He's in his room."

I nodded and got off the couch, walking up to Father's room.

'If it's another tax, I'm going to lose it.'

'It probably is. British Empire still needs to pay off his debts, and due to the Declaratory Act, he thinks he can tax us.'

'If it is a tax, at least he's giving us a warning.'

'There's going to be another major headache soon.'

I walked into Father's room, knocking on the doorframe as I did so. Father was standing by his bed.

"Hello Thirteen." He said, looking up at me as I entered the room.

"Hello Father." I said back, "What's this about?"

"The Providence of New York hasn't been complying with the Quartering Act of 1765-"

'Yeah, because it's a fucking stupid law'

"-So Parliament has decided to pass the New York Restraining Act. This will forbid the New York Assembly and the governor of New York from passing any new bills until they agreed to comply with the Quartering Act."

'WHAT?'

'WHAT THE FUCK!'

'̷̛̬̽̉͒͐̆͛̐̉̇̑̆Ì̷͔͔̞̲̻̯͖̥͇͉̟̯̌̈́̈́̊̓͊͠'̴͈͎̥͚̱̯́͛̒̊́͌m̴̧̡̮̜̼̰̙̽̈̀̌̀̋͊̎͐͠ͅ ̸̛͕͖̫̝͉͈͒̓͒g̸̢̨̞̬̻̻͔̟̈͋̌͒̆̍͛̈́ͅo̴̗͎̘̲̦̤͕͓͉̼͉̱̖͌̓͂͑̓̈̓̀͠i̵̧̗̜̓̚͜n̴̨̛͈̙̬̫̹͆̎͊͒̿̋̅̽̔̌́͜ͅg̶̨̻̬͎̣̜͈̀́ ̶̡͚̼̪̻͎̳̳̿̀̏ţ̶̨̺̠̝̹̺͎̥͙͖̣̎̍̀̃̆̉̉͌̚o̸̧̡̟͚̜̠͔̘̠͙̟̤͛͊̽̎ ̵̭̰̻͍͕͚̟͎̳͍̠̜̯̑̑̏͑̓́̓͛͐́̀͘ķ̷̛̻̯̲̌̔̑̏͒̔̌̔̂̾i̷̡̡͉͉̩͚͑̅́́̃̀͘̚ͅl̶̖̊̏͒͛̿͑̌̓̎̚̚l̷̘̯̼̥̟̳̗̒̑͋̿͐͌̕͘ͅ ̷̭̔̽̊͗̈͛̚͠h̵̗͂í̶̡̧̱͙̳̮̪͙̥̦̭͈̦̰̒̒̄̃́̋̋̆̑͊̕m̷̛͎͙̹͚̬̂͊̽̃̎̆̀̾̀̕͝.̴̡̛͍͖̹̼͕̪̭̠̭́̓͗͒͠ͅ ̸̡̘̠͋̏̇́̌̈̈̅̆͠Ī̵̡̧̨̻̩̟̟̍ ̵̳͇̜̽̆͐̌͝͠͠͠ŵ̴̼͋̓͗̑͒̎̕a̴̳͗̄̆͒̓̄̚̕͝n̴̛̹̣̻̮̎̉̄̋̄́͋͐̒̅̈́̚͝ţ̵̢̛̛͓͎̩̹̮̖̼̣̣̤̅̆͗̄̍̄̈́̾̃̑͘͝ ̴̢̱̯̜͚̯̬̣͚͆͒́͋͑́́͂̈́̿͛͝c̵̢̯̺͚͎̦͉͂͗̊̎̎͂́͘͝͝o̴̧̡̝̲̤̖̰̱̮͚͈̹̒̍͜͜n̵̨̛͚͉̻̭̥̮͙̥̪̳̊͗̊̂̀͐̈́̓̅͐̈́t̴͙̼̞͙̗̦̩̙̺͇̣̓̿̐̍̿̔̔̔̐̔͒̐ͅr̷͉̯͍͖͈͈̮̹̰̈́̊̈́̓̀͆̚͜ͅo̵̢̧̧̗̳̟͇̼̅̂̌̕ļ̷̢̨̞̠̳̘̯͈̦̻̗͊͆̾̇̌͒͆̑̿̌̔͝͝ͅ ̶̧̢̦͙̩͖͔̲̙̳͒́̔̓͊̈́̿̂̀͒̀̕̕o̸̡̰̲͍͙͇̱̣̮̓̐̎̎͜v̷͎͖͉͕̭̳͔͑̎̽̊̅̿̈́͝͝ͅͅe̵̥̤͓̰̦͚̥͎͔͔̦͒̏̎̎̅͗̂͗͛̄̽̊͘͝r̷̦̜̩̊͒ ̸̫͔̜̣̤͓̻͚̱̖̬͑͑͜ǫ̷̡̥̦̰̭͙̠̗͇͑͂͋̈́̅̀͠ͅù̵̹͊͌r̶̨̨̗̼͇̤̯͕͔̖͈̀̕ ̶̖̣̏̃̌̿̄͆̆̎̊́͝͠b̷͎̟͖͕͙̖͍̦́o̸̧͍̝̘̭̝̦̐̉̈́̅̎̓̅͝͝d̷̖̦͖̱̞̙̘̮̠͎͕̓̃̊́̏̀͐̇̾̾̕͝y̸̧̧̫̹̗͓̤̠̺̌̆͆́̎̔̊́̆͝ͅ.̶͎̜͈͇͔͎̣̣̌̌̈͑̈́́̊́̈́̅̅̕̚͠'̵̧̢̡̳̤̟̫̹̜̦͇̪̻́̇̈́͆̀͐̕

I held my head in pain as the distorted voice echoed around my skull. My limbs began feeling numb and heavy and I felt like I was about to pass out. I felt a presence begin creeping into my mind as my body swayed.

'̸͔̬͗G̷͕̯͎̼̬̾̎͋͑͜͝ĭ̵͖v̶͚̹̲́͐̇͜è̴̳̳͓̍͌́́̈́̕ ̶̹̝̰̺̤̀̃̈́ͅͅm̷̖͎͕̀̊̈́̓̀̚͠ͅë̵̠̲́̈́̄̃͂̓̂ ̶̰̯͕͙̞̔͂͝c̵̖̽̈̑͂͜o̷̥̫̞͇̞͑́̍̐ń̶͖̃̈̓̃t̵̮̱͍͎̻̙̓̾́͒̑͛͊ṙ̶̢̨̛̳͓͋́ṏ̷̖̼͙͉̲̯̏̾͋ͅl̷̘̱̜̀̿̑́̈́.̴͖͒̽́̂̉̌ ̵̠̬͐L̸̦͂̓̿͝͝ȩ̴̨̙͕̘͈̖̈́̈́̑ṭ̵̗̥̂̈́̍ͅ ̵̡̫̼̮̯̻̈͐͆́̈́ͅm̴̫̰̥̾̓ḙ̵̱̔͗͛̐̈́ ̴̛̰̔̔̚ş̵̠̯̹͓̀̋̊̍͊͝h̴̤͊͘͝ȃ̷̢̛̰̦̺̳̪̀͌͘̕͜r̷̗̺̦̘̘̃̌e̸̱̦̲͎̤̬̪͌́̌̕ ̴͉̳̣̮͖͔̉o̶͖̥̜̹̹̰͇̓̚u̵͇͓̺͒̀͌̓͝r̶̝͔̻̤̟̝̽̽̈́́̒͂ ̴̬̮̻́b̷̭̐̔͐͘̕õ̵̞͚̩̮͈̋̀̕͠d̷̞̖̀͋y̷͚̬̬͚͇͔͛̔́͝ͅ.̸͕̗̓͒̒͝ ̶̨̗̲̗͆̈́̇L̵̢̩͉͌̆̾̓͆̚ë̶̩̘́͒̊̚ͅt̶̩͓̯̬̿ ̵̡̼̠̦͇̲̻̐̔̄͝m̸͖͓̩͑̽͋͗̕͝e̶̙̋̾ ̸̯̥̯̝̏̆̈́͐̎̎͜͝ş̷̜͕̆̾̀h̶͔̰͎̜͓̲͗̈́̌͒̀ȏ̶̧̡̼͓̽͋ẉ̸͍͎̮̣̌̓̅͝͝ ̵͔̂͂̇͜͝Ḃ̴͇r̵̢̘̥̬͍͙͇̈́̑i̵͚̼̥̳͈̓̊͜t̸̙͑̀̓͋̈ì̴̤͗s̴̥̳̥͓̱̹̤̓h̵̨͍̹̗͖̓̿͗̾̎ ̴̪͈̬͆͐͂̎Ę̴̠̰̮̳̉̓ͅm̶̛̹̀̓̀͛̍̀p̵̩̼̪̃ͅị̴̻̈͐̓͊͂͛r̸̢͕͈̞͑̃̾͋͝é̷̟̯͓̫̺͛̃͠ͅ ̸̡̤̳̗͗͝w̵͇̼̱̱̗͉̄̓̉̀̆̃͘h̷͖̓̀͑̊ỳ̸͔̱̣̿͌̈́ ̵͚͎̪̊̄̚͜͝h̶̨̛̟͚̃e̴̗̱̝͙̘̋́ ̷̪̈͘s̶͙̗̒́̍h̴̺͑̉͋ő̸̹̼̀͂̍̅ŭ̵̥̳́l̵̪͕̞̟͉̪̻̅͑̀͝͠ḍ̷̨̮̀̽n̷͔̂̃̈'̴͖̗̳̰̔̾͊͒ṱ̸̠̠̜̽͛͂͐̾͗͆ ̶̟͛̇̂r̴̫̣̩̅̓e̴̳̺̭͊̒̈́m̶̹̀̀̾̔̈́͛͠ͅo̸̥̫̦͇̠͊͋͌̔͗͝v̷̨̹͉̆̃́e̶̜̠̱͙̱̋͑́͘͜ ̴̤̮͎͙͐̽̉͒͝ṃ̶̦͋͊̌͠ỹ̷̳̩̗̯̭̩̂̀ ̵̲̮͔̱̤̔̀̊͠a̵̛̗̼͕͖̳̠̅̋̽̉̂͜͠s̶̡̫̥̗̘̗͍̍͂̈̆̑́͝s̶̙̺̪̹̄̉̈́̒̈̔͜ę̷̨͎͓̝͙͑̋̽̕m̸̻͗̅͊̎b̶̳͇̦̪̮͉̐̓͐͠͝ͅl̵͙͋y̸̢̯̳̳̼̽̇̽͌̃̆͐.̷̢͉̜̻̕͜͠'̷̧̰̥̣̱̉̾͝ͅ

I felt tired and I was having trouble forming thoughts. Any thoughts that began forming were chased away by the anger of the distorted voice and its presence. Suddenly, the presence left and feeling returned to my limbs.

"-rteen! Thirteen can you hear me?" I heard Father say as the pain in my head began decreasing. I scowled.

"I can hear you just fine. I think you have a problem with hearing me. You're decreasing the power of the New York assembly?" I questioned.

"It's only until New York complies with the Quartering Act. But that's not important now. Are you alright? You're shaking."

I was? I looked down at my hand and saw that it was shaking violently. I let out a shaky sigh.

"Just leave me alone. I need to think this over." I said as I stumbled out of the room, barley keeping myself up. I fell against the wall and began using it for support.

"Thir-" Father began.

"Just leave me alone!"

'I'll show him one of these days.'

"Thirteen you can barley stand. What happened?" Father asked. I wasn't entirely sure of the answer to that myself, but I wasn't about to tell Father I heard voices. He would just think I'm going insane.

"I just had a little headache I'm fine. Just leave me alone." I told Father again, walking off, this time with more success.

"Thi-"

"Please, just leave me alone. I need to think about this. You saw how they reacted to the Stamp Act. Do you really think they're going to like this?"

I hoped this would be the last act, but I knew it wasn't. Something else was going to come.

——————————————————————

June 26, 1767

I walked into Father's office without knocking. Father looked up from some papers before frowning.

"Thirteen, remember your manners." He lectured. I was tired of them, tired of being babied.

"To hell with my manners! Don't tell me there is another fucking tax." I told him, slamming my hands down on his desks.

'Aggressive.'

'Necessary.'

"Thirteen, you have to understand and stop getting so unreasonably angry over these taxes." Father began.

'FUCK YOU! IT'S NOT UNREASONABLE!'

'We have our assemblies for a reason. Our past situation worked fine.'

'And someone had to change it.'

'British Empire's the problem here.'

"Just tell me what your taxing now. The ability to leave a house? Talking? Breathing?" I questioned. Father looked at me.

"Thirteen, don't be ridiculous."

"The only thing I'm being is just like your taxes." I shot back. Father's taxes were ridiculous, so my ridiculous examples made perfect sense. Father sighed.

"The taxes is only on glass, lead, painters' colors, paper, and tea. And it gives custom officials broad authority to enforce these taxes and punish smugglers." Father said.

"Oh only on that. Thanks I'm so grateful for the five new taxes. A truly wonderful way to benefit society." I said while rolling my eyes. Father narrowed his eyes.

"Thirteen. Just because you haven't been feeling well, and had some sort of attack a couple of weeks ago doesn't mean you can act this way." He said.

'Don't listen to him.'

'When has he every shown an ability to listen to what we want?'

'Just listen. It'll make things go smoother. You know how he is.'

"I am tired of your stupid taxes. I'm stressed and pissed off. Is there anything else you plan on taxing, just so I can get a warning? Or are you going to surprise me with a new tax?" I asked. Father sighed.

"We're planning on passing two new acts soon." He said.

'How perfect.'

'Two new acts. Just what we needed.'

"What's in these acts?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"One of them is just to keep the British East India Company from going bankrupt and collapsing. It's making the tea from that company cheaper than the smuggled Dutch tea." Father explained.

'That wasn't as bad as I though.'

'That's because it doesn't effect us dipshit.'

"The next act is going to create a new Customs Board for the North American colonies, headquartered in Boston with five customs commissioners." Father explained.

'Oh come on! How are we supposed to smuggle things now?'

"Well at least it's not more taxes." I said. Father looked surprised.

"You're not mad?" He asked.

"About the first one, yes. The two new ones you'll be passing soon, not really. It's not going to negatively affect m-the colonies, aside from the fact that smuggling with decrease." I told him.

"You think smuggling is a good thing?" Father asked, giving me a suspicious look.

"No, it's just that a lot of the colonists depend on it, so some people are going to loose business." I told him.

'And we like the smuggling.'

Those acts weren't that bad. Hopefully this mean things could get better.

—————————————————————————

July 6, 1768

I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong. Things had actually been getting better. My headaches had been decreasing, the tension between Father and I was decreasing, and then Father had to go and pull this.

'How can he think he has the power to do this?'

'First my assembly and now this?'

'For fucks sake!'

'I actually though things were going to get better.'

'We're so naïve.'

"Father explain this to me one more time." I told him, barley concealed fury in my tone as my thoughts raced around for an explanation.

"This act is being passed to aid the prosecution of smugglers. It's giving Royal naval courts, rather than colonial courts, jurisdiction over all matters concerning customs violations and smuggling." Father said.

"Didn't you already have one of those? In Nova Scotia? Why do you need more?" I asked as a headache began to grow.

"Smuggling in a big problem Thirteen. I'm enforcing new acts around it so the problem can be fixed." Father explained.

'We have our own courts.'

'We were perfectly fine before you came butting in.'

"What about my courts? They can handle this." I protested. Father sighed.

"No they can't. The colonial courts have done nothing to stop the smuggling, which means I must take action myself." Father explained, putting an emphasis on the colonial courts. He didn't want me calling them mine.

'Does he even what us to have anything?'

"Are you going to provide transportation for my colonists trips to these courts? Or are you just going to let them struggle on their own? And is there going to be a jury?" I questioned.

"Decisions will be made solely by the judge and the accused person will travel to the court of jurisdiction at his own expense. If they do not appear, they are automatically considered guilty." Father explained.

'What?'

'No jury? A jury is one of our rights!'

'What if they're unable to make it to court, but innocent?'

'Are we going to throw innocent people in prison?'

'Are we actually going to make people travel to these corrupt courts?'

"That's bullshit. The entire act is bullshit." I said before turning around to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" Father asked.

"I'm leaving." I said.

"We can talk more on this tonight then." Father told him. I laughed.

"Not your office. I'm going to my colonies. If you want me to come back, come and find me." I said before bringing myself to New York. I made my choice. I was siding with my people.

———————————————————————

British Empire's POV

I watched in stunned shock as Thirteen vanished. I could believe he did that, although I had reason to believe he wasn't himself. Quebec told me that when Thirteen collapsed his eyes had been chasing colors and his face quickly changing expressions.

Then when I told Thirteen about the New York Restraining  Act, his eyes when from blue to a goldish-yellow. His face briefly changed expression, and something about him felt different. When it changed back to looking and feeling like Thirteen, he was pale and shaking.

I was afraid those troublemakers, the Sons of Liberty, were affecting Thirteen in a bad way he didn't realize. If they were creating a new countryhumans, or at least once that could possess Thirteen, then we had a serious problem on our hands.

If there was a new countryhuman that was affecting Thirteen, then they could be the reason why Thirteen gets unreasonably angry over the taxes, why he has constant headaches all the time. I had told my brothers of this theory, and they agreed it could be true.

We had been keeping an eye on Thirteen during his headaches just in case their was some sort of possession going on. The closest call was the one I had, but if Thirteen was in the colonies alone, who knows what could happen. I was going to send England over to find Thirteen.

I didn't want to lose my son.

[not-close-to-straight]

Winter’s Fall (One)(WinterIron)

Welcome to the story! A commission for @iam93percentstardust, @simplynerdy-gal @multishippinglife   and @livewire28 who wanted a very Winteriron twist on the Sleeping Beauty story. 

I’m not afraid to say it, this shit is adorable and the Winteriron friendship turning to love is just cavity inducing sweetness! I loved being able to weave some Greek mythology in with canon references, I love the utter Softness of Prince Charming! Tony, and the nonstop Sass from Bucky  I hope you all enjoy this as much as I do!

{Note: Echidna is known as the mother of monsters in Greek mythology, and one of her offspring is the Hydra monster, which is important to this story for all the obvious reasons. Read more HERE and HERE.}

MASTERLIST HERE

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

Once Upon a Time...

The castle by the sea caught the last rays of the winter sunset and reflected brilliantly under the gentle glow. Marbled walls shaded soft pink and rich purple, the ocean below tossed deep blue and shadowed gray waves against white cliffs and the evening wind brought a crispness to the air that spoke of coming snow. 

Inside the home, servants closed the last of the windows to be sure the halls and great room stayed cozy for the all the attending guests and lit every chandelier so each lovely gown and piece of ornately stitched brocade was displayed to it's best. The floors were polished to a high shine, the statues and decor dusted, drapes cleaned and banisters smoothed all to be sure the castle was as beautifully put together as could be.  

Tonight was the night the two month old Prince James was to be christened, baptized and blessed and finally introduced to the Kingdom, and all needed to be exactly perfect.

Gathered in the main ballroom was a crush of the most important people in the realm-- Lords and Ladies, visiting dignitaries and stewards, the bishop and priests. The General Ross and his second in command were present, the Royals Stark with their son Prince Anthony, and as a show of respect to the ancient magic woven through the land, even the good witch Margaret and the King and Queen Fae had been invited. 

The bishop wasn’t thrilled about seeing old magic mingling with new religion, but King George cleared his throat loudly when one of the priests spoke up to complain, and on his other side, King Howard pinned the priest with the sort of look that quelled even the strongest objection. 

“It would be unwise of His Majesty to seek the blessing of only one spiritual force in this Kingdom, don’t you think?” Howard said slowly, pointedly. “Surely we all want as many blessings for Prince James as possible, isn’t that correct?”

“Well yes but--but-- but--” the priest tried to stammer but neither Howard nor George were listening anymore, both the Kings turned to watch their wives approach the gilded bassinet that held the little Prince. 

“Oh, he’s beautiful.” Maria gathered her heavy skirts and knelt to brush gentle fingers over the baby’s satin soft cheek. “Winnie, you must be so happy, look how lovely he is. Such dark hair too!”

“He looks like a foot.” Prince Anthony was two and a half years old, wildly rambunctious and hilariously outspoken and as he peered at the baby from beneath a riot of curls, his little nose scrunched as if unimpressed. “Why is he wrinkly?” 

“Anthony!” Maria gasped. “Baby James does not look like a foot!” 

Winnie only chuckled and hugged the toddler to her side, kissing her godson’s forehead. “All babies are wrinkly, my little Tony. But one day he will grow to be just as handsome and charming as you are, you’ll see.”

“I dunno about that.” Tony said doubtfully. “He’s pretty wrinkly.” 

“You’ll see.” Winnie repeated and stood up to take Maria’s hand. “Shall we go see the fairies, I don’t want them to feel slighted ignored. No use stirring up that sort of ill will, hm?”  

“I’m sure they were happy just to be invited. There is no ill will here tonight.” Maria soothed, and with one last glance at her son to be sure Tony was behaving, she followed the other Queen around the room to greet the visitors. 

Tony stayed behind at the baby’s crib, eyeing the various gowns and colorful outfits with mild curiosity, wondering at the wings on some of the shorter people, and nibbling at a stash of cookies he’d hidden in the silken pockets of his overly ruffled outfit. He crammed the sweet treats into his mouth about as fast he could, and ended up getting crumbs all over the floor, himself, and onto the baby’s blanket.

“Oopsie.” Tony looked around guiltily, then reached in and tried to brush the crumbs away. “Sorry baby, sorry. Didn’t mean to get you messy--” he stopped when baby James’s eyes opened wide and blinked at him. “Oh. Hi. Are you awake?”

He poked at the soft tummy with just one finger and then jumped when the baby waved tiny fists around and tried to grab at him. “Hi baby. My name’s Tony.” 

“Little Prince.” A puff of air and a stir of magic, and Tony jumped when the witch Margaret shimmered into sight next to him. “Are you sharing your cookies with Prince James?” 

“Ummmmm….” Tony looked down at the cookies still clutched in his hand and then down at the crumbed blankets. “Yes?” 

“Ah.” Margaret smiled down at him. “Would you like a little help cleaning up?” A flick of her fingers and twist of her wrist and the crumbs disappeared, and Tony gasped in delight when he suddenly had more cookies. “There, isn’t that better? I think Prince James is too young to eat cookies for now, so why don’t you have them and when he gets older you can promise to share with him? That’s what charming princes do, you know. Share their cookies.” 

“Oh I promise!” Tony’s dark eyes lit in happiness. “Thanks, Mar’get!” 

“You are very welcome, little love.” Margaret said warmly. “Now tell me what you think of--” 

The witch suddenly froze, and before Tony could ask what was wrong, she snatched him right up against her body, hiding the toddler in her skirts so he wouldn’t see whatever was coming. 

“Your Majesties!” she called, and both sets of Royals turned her way. “Please? This way, I don’t know what is coming but please come closer to me!” 

The royals hurried towards Margaret and one of the fairies screamed when they felt the evil roiling through the room. They were snatched back by another just in time to avoid being burnt as the air seemed to pop and boil around them, searing smoke of burnt red and silver gray gathering into clouds at their feet. There was a rumble of thunder, the chandeliers flickering and drapes whipping in a sudden wind, a flash of light--

--and a too tall woman with too thin limbs straightened up to stand in their midst. 

“How…peculiar.” the intruder said slowly, and the words echoed as if from a great distance. “An entire celebration full of royals and fairies and witches and yet I-- I was not invited?” 

“Echidna.” Margaret moved to stand in front of the crib, blocking baby James and Tony with her body to keep them from the monsters sight. “Mother of monsters, of course you were not invited. You bring only chaos and terror and you are not welcome in this place.” 

“A shame.” Echidna waved her hand idly through the still dissipating smoke, her clawed fingers and scaled skin nearly yellow in the light. “It seems perilous to honor the old magic but then shun the eldest and most powerful of them all, don’t you think? I love babies, even the ones far less dangerous than my own little monsters and my feelings are terribly hurt at being ignored. What is the saying, my dear Margaret? Hell hath no fury…” 

“Echidna.” Margaret held tight to Winnie’s hand when the Queen cried out in fear. “Echidna, you will not dare--” 

“Hush.” Echidna was more ancient than Margaret, a creature from a time beyond time and it took nothing more than a snap of her fingers to bind Margaret’s mouth and silence the witch entirely. “I won’t hurt the little beast, but I will give it a blessing of my own. Isn’t that why we are all here?” 

She whirled to face the room, curved fangs peeking from beneath her lips when she saw the humans cowering, even the fairies turning away. “Isn’t that...why we...are all...here.” Echidna said again, enunciating the words with malicious intent. “To bless the newest Prince? To honor and be honored with our presence? Surely I deserve a chance to whisper into the child’s ear?” 

No one dared move, no one dared speak and Margaret couldn’t speak even though she desperately wanted to. She kept one hand on Tony to keep him hidden in the folds of her gown and with the other hand Margaret kept hold of George, compelling him to stay still. 

Too quick a movement, too obviously violent an intention towards her, and Echidna would not hesitate to kill. Margaret had seen the witch kill simply for pleasure, she’d seen Echidna rip heads off and hearts out before sinking her fangs into what was left and draining it dry, she’d seen the mother of monsters feed her gruesome children entire villages, Margaret had seen it all. 

It had been centuries since Echidna had stirred from her lair within the black cliffs and neither Margaret nor the fairies knew what had brought the creature to the surface, but here Echidna was, and Margaret was helpless to do anything. 

“Please.” Winnie covered her mouth with both hands and shook her head. “Oh please-- please my baby--” 

“Shhh.” Echidna brushed one scaled knuckle down Winnie’s cheek as she passed to the bassinet. “I am a mother too, you know. I will not lay a hand on him, you have my word.” 

The mortals in the room breathed a collective sigh of relief, but the fairies shared an uncertain look. They knew better than anyone that a witch’s promise only applied to the exact words she said, that harm could be dealt without a hand being raised, and as Echidna swept her snakeskin cloak behind her, as the claws at her feet tsinged across the polished floor, every fairy present knew something terrible was about to happen. 

“Hello, little beast.” Echidna murmured to the baby, her lip curling in near disgust as she stared down at his smooth skin and soft hair. “Are you sleeping?” 

Baby James opened his eyes again and Echidna’s smile was an awful thing, her voice both syrupy sweet and sharp as nails as she leaned into his crib to whisper,

“Before you are grown you will seek to fly, risking all to touch the sun. But Icarus lost his wings and so will you, winter’s fall will not be undone. A slip from heights, a careless step, a slide to down below. A beauty lost, a Kingdom torn, and that’s the way the horror goes.” 

Margaret was shaking with rage by the time Echidna had finished but she was forced to silence by the other creature’s magic, unable to do anything but hold the family back until Echina moved away from the crib and towards the center of the room. 

“Perhaps next time you humans will not be so quick to ignore me.” She bared her fangs in a gruesome smile. “Congratulations on your little bundle of joy. Enjoy him… while you can.” 

A roll of thunder and a flash of light and Echidna’s mocking laughter echoed across the ballroom long after the creature herself had gone. 

Maria snatched Tony up and hid her tears in his hair, and Howard held both his wife and his child tight as George and Winnie ran to gather up James, clutching the babyover their heart. 

“Do something.” George ordered, his voice cracking in the terrified silence. “There is more magic in this room than there is stretched across the entire realm. One of you do something! Do not let that monster curse our child!” 

“Your Majesty, we are not strong enough to break Echidna’s curse.” One of the fairies whispered. “Her power is rooted before our time, we cannot--we have no way of--” 

“--the best we can do is bless James with something that will help him counter the curse.” Margaret could only speak once the last of Echidna’s smoke had disappeared and the first thing she did was murmur into Winnie’s ear and press comfortingly at George’s hand before motioning for them to give her James. “Give him here, love. Let me have him.” 

Winnie was crying as she handed the witch her child, openly sobbing when George pulled her back several steps. Maria wrapped an arm around Winnie’s waist and Tony, who had no idea what was going on at all, whined and tried to pull away from Howard’s too tight hold. 

“Baby!” he insisted. “Let me see the baby!” 

“It’s alright.” Margaret spread her skirts on the floor and patted at her leg so Tony would come sit with her. “The boy is alright, let him come here.” 

Tony ran over and snuggled into Margaret’s lap, thankfully too intent on cookies and the little noises James was making to see the tears in everyone’s eyes. 

“The Kingdom will fall to winter and the castle will hide behind the dark.” Margaret began slowly, and Winnie made a muffled, panicked noise. “But your heart will not cease neither will your soul depart. You will slip, little love, and yes you will fall. But you will only sleep, only rest, until true love conquers all.” 

“True love.” King George shook his head. “How could true love conquer a curse when Echidna said it would come before James is grown? He might not be old enough to have his first kiss, much less old enough to fall in love, it could happen anytime! How does this help, Margaret?” 

“I’ve done all I can.” Margaret whispered, and leaned in to kiss Tony’s chubby cheek before kissing James’s forehead. “There are more ways than one to love, your Majesty, and very few demand romance or a kiss. Very few indeed.”

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

That night Howard and George stood by the fire and smoked their cigars, muttering quietly about the days events while Maria and Winnie sat upstairs in the nursery rocking their babies and trying not to cry. 

“What do you think Margaret meant, that very few ways to love demand romance or a kiss?” Winnie asked into the silence, tucking James’s blankets in a little closer. “What happens if the curse comes around before he is old enough to find love?” 

“I don’t know.” Maria hated to admit, and she held Tony a little closer as the toddler slept. “I don’t know what she means and I don’t know how her blessing will help but--” 

“Maria, what is that?” Winnie pointed towards Tony’s cheek, to the shimmer on his little face. “That mark?” 

“Oh, it’s where Margaret kissed him.” Maria rubbed at the glittered spot absentmindedly. “Every time she kisses him, the glitter stays for a few minutes. It’s never stayed this long before, but we’ve never had such an emotional day either.” 

“It’s on James too.” Winnie turned the baby towards the firelight so Maria could see the glitter dusting the baby’s forehead. “A bit of protection for the children, maybe?” 

“I’m sure.” Maria comforted, and then, “Would you like us to stay for a while, at least Tony and I? I don’t want you here alone and I’d worry about James if we were gone and something--” she swallowed hard. “If something happened, I don’t think I could bear it.” 

“Please stay.” Winnie reached for Maria’s hand and squeezed hard. “Please? You are my best friend, and seeing our boys be friends would make me very happy.” 

“I’m sure Tony and James will be entirely inseparable.” Maria cuddled Tony a little closer, readjusting him where he lay on her shoulder. “Absolute hellions together. We’ll go positively gray trying to keep up with their antics.”

“Absolute hellions.” Winnie agreed, and sighed shakily. “I can’t wait to see them grow up together.” 

If they grow up together was the unspoken end to her sentence, but neither mother said it aloud. 

For tonight they would only hold their babies and think of the coming sunrise and not the looming winter, and think on Margaret’s blessing instead of Echidna’s curse.

It was all they could do for now.

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

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

ASK TO BE TAGGED IN THE FIC!

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

@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @lookuplaughing @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @water-colouredmemories @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @desitonystark @1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii @thepunisherreigns @bibbarnes @dixiehellcat @peteryoulittleshit @here-for-your-bullshit @nanita90a @bluedreamdino @i-am-worth-it-25 @livewire28 @kimstark @simplynerdy-gal 

[timeoutforthee]

Like it or Not-Chapter 27

I’m so tired I’ll format this in the morning, just know that happy purple eyeshadow Virgil single handedly resurrected this story. (/j)

TW: Referenced self harm

“Happy Halloween,” Virgil says. 

Logan narrows his eyes as his friend sits down. “It is October first.”

“Fine. Happy Halloween first.” 

“Ah, I take it you’re a fan of the holiday?”

“Obviously. It matches the aesthetic. Plus the spooky stories, the intense costumes, the haunted houses-”

“The candy,” Logan deadpans. They both know what he means by that. 

“Okay, so in past years it’s turned into kind of a bummer, but still.” Virgil shrugs, “Well, you’re here and you don’t look dead, I’m guessing talking to your dad went well?”

“That is debatable, but he’s letting me continue therapy.”

“That’s good, did you talk to him?”

“He just...came home and said he changed his mind.”

“Just like that? You didn’t even have to talk to him?”

“No. But if I ever do need to talk to him it’s not going to go well.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The one time I tell him about my disorders, about my suffering, he just decides to get rid of my one resource? I can’t exactly trust him after that.”

“Well….”

Logan raises an eyebrow, “Would you?”

“No,” Virgil says, “I wouldn’t. And I can’t blame you for not.”

Before Logan can say anything, their teacher walks to the front of the room. 

“As you all know,” Mrs. Spencer starts, “We’re starting our new chapters on creative writing.” That gets varying reactions. Some kids groan, others lean further forward. “The first thing I want you to do is to take a Halloween monster, it can be one you make or a classic, and write a poem about it.”

“A poem?” a boy near the front sneers.

“Yes, a poem,” Mrs. Spencer levels her student with a stare. “We’ll be covering several forms of poetry-haikus, sonnets, slam poems, etcetera. But to begin, I just want you to write whatever you feel comfortable with. So, I am going to leave you guys to free write. Remember to keep talking to a minimum, and if you need to research, the computers are in the back.”

Her students start shifting, getting out pens and pencils and pieces of paper. Some immediately start writing, picking their favorite classic monster from childhood, while others gravitate towards the back of the class, where the computers are. Logan frowns deeply, before scribbling a few notes in his notebook. He goes to the bookcase where several classics are lined up alphabetically in the back and reaches up towards the top.

Virgil looks over at the book. Frankenstein. “I didn’t take you for a zombie person.”

“Not for the zombies,” Logan says, “For the history. The invention of science fiction, created by a woman. Besides, the real monster isn’t Frankenstein’s monster. It’s Dr. Frankenstein himself. After all, it was his creation, his longing to make something impactful that led him to the ultimate downfall.”

Virgil nodded. “A very interesting concept.”

“It is, really. It’s a shame it doesn’t get more credit.”

“I mean, it is a classic-”

“And classics are considered boring.”

“You got me there,” Virgil says. 

“What are you going to write about?”

“I dunno? Vampires?”

“A good choice,” Logan nods, focusing on his own writing. 

For the first time in months, Virgil puts a pen to paper with the intention to write a poem. He falls back into it easily, naturally, as if this was the way it was supposed to be. In fact, he flew through writing the poem. He looked around to find that his classmates were still working, some showing visible signs of struggle. He wondered if it should be more difficult. 

He read his poem back silently, ducking his head and mouthing the words. He had no interest in performing slam poetry, but the art of it amazed him. He would spend hours and hours watching different poets perform if he could. But he always thought about if he was one of them, standing up on stage, would he stack up? Some of his poems did. Some fell short. Like this one.

Virgil crossed it out with a big X, frowning deeply, and flipped to the next page. 

He tried again with the same result. Sounding good...didn’t stack up, big X, and a flip. Virgil brought his hand down his face. Maybe it was the monster. Maybe the trick was to use a strong emotion. And what would be stronger than fear?

He brought his pencil back to the page. That was it. He had to tap in to his fear. What was he really afraid of?

Virgil snorted to himself. That was a stupid question. Everything. He had anxiety. 

He paused, thinking back to Roman’s project. The monsters. Specifically, the anxiety monster. 

Virgil started furiously scribbling, writing out aspects of the effects in real life he wanted to include, as well as all the emotions he had felt. He turned phrases into stanzas and was just working on fitting them altogether when the bell rang. 

^

Virgil doesn’t know a time when he didn’t have anxiety. The cutting, the eating disorder, those had dates, clear times set between “Before the Disorder” and “During the Disorder.” But anxiety had always been there, always been a thing-no, always been a friend to him. Something that kept him out of trouble, that always was there when things got rough. Sure, it didn’t feel good, but none of his coping mechanisms felt good. 

There is a “Before Panic Attacks” and “Panic Attacks,” because he didn’t get those until the sixth grade. He thinks. He remembers it used to feel like a wave of emotion he was drowning under. It started as nervousness, but then it just built until it washed over him. He would cry and gasp for breath, but he would always try to hide it. Even from Elliot. 

On the first day he can remember getting a panic attack, he went home and wrote down some of the words that came to mind-Drowning. Pulled under. 

Empty. 

He didn’t know what to do with them, so they just sat there. Even when he got rid of the notebook, they sat in his mind, refusing to go anywhere. 

This is where his mind was when he was sitting at lunch. With those words. 

“Earth to Charlie Frown,” Roman leaned over and waved a hand in front of Virgil’s face. Virgil blinked. 

“Sorry, I’m just...thinking about this assignment.”

“The monster assignment?” Logan questioned. 

“Yeah, Virgil, I’ve got to say I wasn’t so sure about giving out this assignment, but you seemed so inspired, I was glad I chose to,” Mrs. Spencer spoke up.

“I just was writing about vampires, and they were okay, but they weren’t good enough, so I just thought about what I was scared of most in life, but the reality is I’m terrified of everything-I have anxiety,” Virgil sighs, “So I’m writing about that. About my monster. Anxiety.”

“That’s good, Virgil!” Patton says, “You have an outlet!”

“Yeah, you don’t talk about your anxiety in group,” Roman says.

“I just don’t have much to say about it, it’s here, and it sucks,” Virgil shrugs.

“Where do you think it comes from?” Patton asks.

Virgil pauses. If he looked at this logically, he could reason that perhaps, maybe, it came from walking on eggshells around an abusive parent for years. But he doesn’t know if he should tell them that.

“I just...have it, I guess?” It’s a lame excuse, he knows. 

“If you don’t want to tell us-”

“I don’t want to tell you,” Virgil immediately blurts out. They all turn to look at him. “I’m sorry. It’s not you. It’s just that....I’m still dealing with it myself. And Picani knows, so don’t be worried, but. It’s a lot.”

“The anxiety or what you don’t want to tell us?”

“Both,” Virgil tells Roman. 

“It’s okay,” Patton says, “You don’t have to tell us. I shouldn’t have asked, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t know,” Virgil says. 

“I am writing about Dr. Frankenstein,” Logan says to fill the silence that follows, “And while I do find these creative things… challenging, I must say I’m much more thankful that I picked him and not something with emotions.”

“Dr. Frankenstein?” Roman says, “C’mon, live a little, do the real Frankenstein! The monster!”

“Roman, there’s much more complexity in the scientist-”

“But the monster is awesome, and he has such cool makeup-”

“That doesn’t matter, I’m not going to be him, I’m writing him-”

“Speaking of which, what are you all going to be for Halloween?” Roman asks, eyes lighting up like an excited puppy, “I was thinking a mummy, ooh! Or maybe an astronaut from Among Us! OOH! Or maybe-”

“It’s October 1st, when would we have chosen?” Logan asks.

“I have a few options,” Virgil speaks up.

“You would,” Roman says. “What about you, Patton? Surely something adorable, but what exactly-?”

“Actually, um,” Patton frowns, “I don’t really...do Halloween?”

The table goes silent. 

“Why?” Virgil asks, finally, “Is it like a religion thing?”

“No…”

“Is it the candy?” Logan asks. 

“I mean, it doesn’t help, but,” Patton sighs, “They don’t really...make costumes in my size?”

There’s silence again before Roman slams his hand down on the table. “Unacceptable!”

“Geez- would you give us a warning-?!”

“That is pure laziness on the costume’s part, besides we don’t need any cheap plastic costumes, we need some real ones!” Roman says over Virgil. 

“For what?” Patton says, “I’m not going to a party or anything. It’s fine, I just….”

“Just what?”

“You know…”

“No, I genuinely don’t,” Logan says, “What do you do?”

“I isolate myself in my room and avoid it at all costs,” Patton admits. 

“Now that is unacceptable,” Virgil says. 

“Then what do you expect me to do? Hm? Call the companies and complain-”

“No, silly!” Roman says, “I will make you the costume!”

Patton snaps his mouth closed, “You’d...do that? For me?”

“Of course!” Roman says, “And for you two, too, if you want.”

“I can help,” Virgil says, “I have made costumes before, so…”

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” Logan says after three expectant sets of eyes turn to look at him. “As long as I don’t look ridiculous.”

[purplesurveys]

786

Do you hate it when people rate their surveys "R" but none of the questions are R-rated?  Not really. It’s been a while since I took note of whatever rating a survey has and I don’t really analyze a survey if it has any R questions. Do you ever actively seek out R rated surveys 'cause you think they're fun? Only super early on as a teenager because accomplishing an rated R survey back then made me feel cool HAHAHAHA. Like I said though, I stopped caring through the years as I got older and got to experience typical grownup stuff. Have you ever taken the tests on sites like "OK Cupid" or similar? I’ve never even been on that website, so I dunno others like it. When was the last time you went out for a coffee/cup of tea? Sigh...March 2nd. I went to a nearby Starbucks to work on a business article and to extensively update a tracker that I was keeping for a class. Then because I still had work to do, but was feeling increasingly bad for overstaying at that Starbucks, I drove all the way to Gabie to stay at another coffee shop to continue working, at Coffee Bean this time. We had Yabu for dinner after and I had no clue it was gonna be my last coffee and Yabu date for a while. :/ Do you remember what TV shows you liked as a kid? (If you watched it) Yeah but all the surveys ask this damn question eugh so I don’t feel like directly answering this. I liked a ton of Nickelodeon and Disney shows, but I was super picky when it came to Cartoon Network because I vibed with mostly none of their shows.

Does stress ever affect you physically? If yes, how? It doesn’t really, actually. It hits me in other ways because I’d usually get cranky and will often cry when my stress peaks. I don’t get sick or lose weight or gain it or anything like that, and usually a one-time emotional release will help me deal with the stress. Who (in your opinion) deserves a medal and why? Frontliners do. Throw in better pay for them as well. Who was in power in your country the year you were born? Estrada. Not a very good president either. Though to be fair all of our presidents have been bad save for one; Estrada was just the worst of them all. In your opinion were they a good president/prime minister/leader? Just answered that question. Is gambling throughout your presidency good? Missing crucial meetings because you drank the whole night before and you’re hungover? Not entertaining courtesy calls with global politicians/ambassadors because you just didn’t feel like it? Yep, didn’t think so.  Do you own a coffee table? If yes, what is it made out of? Yes, my grandpa made it for my mom. It’s made out of wood but my mom painted it black so that it fit more with the ambiance she was going for. When did you last eat a parsnip? I don’t even know what that is haha, so I guess never. I tried looking for a Filipino translation but turns out we don’t even have a word for it, which just means it’s not a part of our culture at all. Is it just me or is TV seriously "dumbing down"? Not at all? If anything more and more creators have been using the presence and influence of TV to show representation and give important messages. Just look at Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Do you ever watch films and rip them apart for their innacuracies? Not really. I watch films to enjoy them, buuuut I wouldn’t shy away from hearing someone else point out mistakes, especially from historical movies. It’s always good to store some more trivia in your head haha. Do you prefer your partners to be taller or shorter than you? I’m already quite short so I’d prefer them to be taller. Can you smell anything? Not right now. Did you have a money box as a kid? What shape was it if you did? No. I had packed recess and lunch and I was seldom given money, so there wasn’t any reason for me to start saving anyway. When was the last time your stomach rumbled? Not sure. It hasn’t done that a lot these days because we have food all day long, so the last time was probably when I was still going to school. There are days that I had classes for like 5 hours straight, so getting food was impossible unless I stepped out of the classroom for a few minutes to grab a bite – which I didn’t like doing because I never wanted to miss out on any notes hahaha nerrrrrd. Are your nails long? It’s getting there, but they’re not distractingly long. Have you ever bitten a person for fun? Lol. Yeah, just my girlfriend when I’m feeling playful.

What's your favourite tree? I don’t have one. What do you currently need to buy? A new charger for my phone. Mine finally gave up a few weeks ago and fortunately my sister has an old iPhone charger that I’ve since borrowed for the time being. The charger she has is from Miniso though and honestly I’d feel much better with an original Apple charger haha. Has kids TV ever frightened you? Nah. I got spooked easily as a kid so I generally avoided cartoons that were already known to be dark, like Courage the Cowardly Dog. Do you have any potted plants in your house? Yeah, several. My mom likes having plants around. Do you like solitude? I’ll need it sometimes, especially after a hectic or a big social event, so it feels really nice when I have it. I don’t always like to be alone though, and I mostly crave it when I need recharging. Is there any religion which intrigues you above all others? Buddhism. We never delved deeper than learning the founders and basic laws of other religions (considering I’m from Catholic school), and after hearing about the major religions, it was Buddhism that fascinated me the most. Do you use the PC to "chat" often? I had YM as a kid, if that’s what you mean. I chatted with friends on there all day long. Are you much of a gamer? I am not at all a gamer. I know it's a common question, but, why do you take surveys? It’s a way of getting in touch with myself and to release stress if I have to. It also serves as a distraction whenever there’s so much going on in my life. Do you like meeting or talking to new people via the world wide web? I don’t particularly enjoy it in that I seek it out. It’s just nice when it happens naturally. Do you often wear belts? Never.  When did you last say a nursery rhyme? A very long time ago would be a safe guess. Did you like climbing trees as a kid? No. Most trees here are crawling with fire ants or just insects in general, so I couldn’t climb them even if I wanted to. Do you still secretly like climbing trees, given the chance to do so? Ha Do you find it flattering or "cheesy" when strangers wink at you? Disgusting. I’d take a photo of them and make sure to blast them online. Do you ever shop online? Super rarely.

[hide8696]

Banana fish episode 22 is might what Blanca tried to avoid

At the end scene we all saw Ash truly had becomes a demon right after Eiji was shoot in front of him and dying. Blanca knows how crazy Ash will become if something happened to Eiji and in episode 22 it really happening. Blanca really know his son btw XD

Truthfully, I really love Blanca and Max position as Ash father figure. Both of them were trying to save Ash but in different way.

Blanca might kind of harsh a bit where he asking Ash to return to Dino because he understand there are no more place for Ash living a normal life after all had happened. Blanca didn't want anything to happen to his sunshine cause it Dino and he understand what that pervert old man capable of. But, in the end Blanca did see that Eiji was both Ash strongest and weakest point. All I can see is Blanca is a single daddy with his two immature sons who tryung to kill each other XD

When Eiji was introduced to Blanca he might think Eiji will becomes a burdens for both him and Ash. It might be such a waste for him to kill another innocent life and Eiji will becomes Ash's downfall.

Blanca was retired and he will never had all the time to watch his baby's back so he needs Ash to felt nothing and becomes strong to fight Dino mentally and physically.

He warning Yut Lung maybe because he cared or maybe not. But I think Blanca indeed cared since he saw a broken child in front of him. Blanca such a soft dad. Yut Lung is a 'monster' as he claimed himself but in Blanca's eyes he just a cute puppy attacking a lynx.

Yut Lung will never can match the real monster Ash been keeping inside of him. Ash will killed Yut Lung without moving a single fingers if he wish to. But, as mentioned before all because of Eiji, Ash was changed.

While, Max were trying all his best for Ash to living normal even after all had happened. Max trying to turn a blind eyes and pretending whatever happened to Ash never actually happened. Just some kind of nightmares and so.

Max will sacrifice everything just to see Ash smile to his fullest and I might think Ash will becomes such a good brother to Max's son (i don't remembered his name tho XD). Max is some kind of dad who will proud over everything his son did even it ridiculous.

Yut Lung. Really I must admitted he is beautiful and pierce but it still not enough. He will never can win against Ash. I'm not trying to put Ash in the top but ever since I watch Banana fish (I still haven't read it yet so I might miss something important) Yut Lung will never can match Ash. He was driven by his emotional.

Yut Lung killed his family and anyone who trying to stand his way yet he can't kill himself like how Ash did. Ash literally can switch his emotions (but whenever Eiji involved he kind of messed up but not entirely) as long as his love one is not involved.

And whenever Dino was present, eye to eyes with Ash, he seems to forgot everything but carving for Dino's blood. Hungry monster who was not fed for a long time.

This is might be one of the reason why Dino named Ash as his son and heir. Ash is capable being the true mafia might even worst than himself if he train him himself. Dino understand the consequences taking Ash in but he just doesn't give a damn things about what will happened to him.

Dino and Yut Lung is a mirror to each other. Being too similar yet to different. While Dino hold nothing in his heart, Yut Lung is emotional. While Dino is laughing when lives is taken, Yut Lung can still felt the empathy to his victims. But whenever it comes to Ash both almost sharing a same interest.

Eiji. Eiji. Eiji. This boi really. He always giving me heart attack. He was a magnet of trouble. When Eiji was shoot, I was like "The f*!!! Give Ash moment to be with his hubby and his hubby was shoot. What the actually f*?!".

Eiji wil be fine (maybe, i dunno i haven't read the manga yet) but he was important in this story so he will be fine, I guess XD.

There nothing I can talk about Eiji but how this cute puppy was following Ash like a duckling. He was Ash source of light since he didn't give a single f* about what happened to Ash at the past. He didn't give a dam s*.

Eiji didn't takes Ash for granted and he taught Ash what is love and how to flying to the rainbow with the unicorn. That is how gay I can see this two dork and I was worshipping this two dork like a f* God. May God forgive me for worshipping another God. This two dobe can bring a new religion just by showing their love.

Shorter (actually I misspelled his name into Shota XD) this boi die too early or he might already becomes the head of the religion XD.

I'm sure if this war over he will becomes a wedding planner and making sure that Ash and Eiji f* non-stop, like every day and every time. He will makes a male pregnancy possible because all he ever wanted is Ash to be happy. He will threaten a God to makes sure Eiji is pregnant and he himself will becomes Eiji and Ash's children god father. He will spoiled both Eiji and Ash but sadly he already dead!! Why!!

That is all I can do cause of the frustration I felt. I needs a fiction where this all my favorite characters live happily.

I need Shorter around.

I needs Max, Blanca and Jim arguing and battling themselves who will becomes Ash favourite daddy.

I needs Eiji cuddling Ash 24/7 and Ash was jealous of himself and needs Eiji full attention.

I need Jessica "I'm-f*-done-face" to his husband and overgrown son.

I need Griffin and Ash "pat-my-head-more-brother", moment for 200 chapter instead of several seconds.

I need Sing confused all over what happening.

And I need Yut Lung and Ash never ending argument over "who-will-win-daddy-Blanca-attention" and "your-boifriend-is-my-boifriend-too".

Feed me. XD

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #170

this one’s a few days old and am just getting to posting it. don’t feel like rereading to change some old answers tho.

Do you tell your best friend everything? What might you omit? If she asked about a subject, I'd tell her. I wouldn't just be like "hey here's a little factoid I don't like talking about." Have you ever experienced unrequited love? Yes. In your current or most recent romantic relationship, do/did you feel as though one of you settled? Not at all. What did your ex (or one of your exes) consider to be a dealbreaker in you? My depression. What seemingly small change have you made to improve your life this year? More drive to be an adult. Make the decision to try as hard as mentally possible to be more open about myself and not so scared of being found as "too weird." Does anyone in your family suffer from mental illness or substance abuse? Don't get me started on the first. I only know of my dad being a recovered alcoholic. What is the biggest gap in your employment history? How did/will you explain it to future employers? 0-19ish. Wasn't in the mental state to. Is there any part of your sexual/romantic history that you have not told your current significant other about or that you will not tell future partners about? She knows a lot. There's just one thing I'm not comfortable talking about yet. There's nothing I absolutely won't tell at any point - if you're in a serious relationship, they have the right to know. Has anyone ever tried to change your mind about something very personal, such as religion or wanting children? Children, yes. Colleen especially was convinced I was going to change my mind to an annoying degree. People have pushed me being a vet a whole lot, too. Do you ever hear about old school friends? Where are you high school friends now? Well, through FB. Most have stable jobs, some are extremely intelligent students headed towards amazing careers, some are parents. Most fell off the face of the earth. What is the most fun you can remember ever having under the influence? Cards Against Humanity. Has your Facebook relationship status ever been set to 'it’s complicated’? Why? Nooooo, and I seriously wish that option didn't even exist. Drama bait, whether intentional or not. What is the most beautiful/interesting name that you’ve ever personally known someone to have? Alon. Have you ever developed feelings for someone whose sexual orientation was incompatible with yours? Yes. How many relationships have you been in that actually got sexual? One. When making an entrance in to a party, do you make your presence known? Do you slip in and look for someone you know? Do you sneak in quietly and find a safe spot to roost? Me?????????????? At a party?????????????????????? What is your strongest sense? Maybe you don't count this because it's not a "real" sense, but I would say I have an incredibly strong "sixth sense" of just knowing when something is wrong, even with people I don't know well. I pick up bad emotions easily. But if you're just talking sight, hearing, taste, touch, and smell, I suppose smell? Or taste. Could be why I'm so picky. What is the strangest thing you believed as a child? There is NO telling. I believed some wild shit. HAHAHA OH MY GOD WAIT NO I BELIEVED I HAD "ANIMAL POWERS" UNTIL THE END OF ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. Like, I could go into a "mode" where I had capabilities like those in certain animals, like with kangaroo powers, I could jump higher. God that was so embarrassing to write jfc what the fuck was I on. Who performs the most random acts of kindness out of everyone you know? Mom. She gives food, water, and sometimes money to homeless people she trusts as actually being without a home. There are two or three people she's actually "friends" with. Are you more likely to avoid conflict or engage it head-on? A V O I D What is something about yourself that you hope will change, but probably never will? I make situations awkward. Just social anxiety in general. What’s a strange occurrence you’ve experienced but have never (or rarely) shared with anyone? Okay, so I don't think I believe in angels, and I'm 99% sure this was a dream by now. But once as a little kid, I have a *very* strong memory of getting out of bed and going outside because I felt I needed to see something, and two swans came to the porch, turning into my grampa and favorite cat that had died. Then I went back inside, and that's all I remember. Still to this day that shit didn't feel like a dream, but. It probably was. What do you think about more than anything else? The future. What’s your all-time favorite town or city? Why? I dunno. If you could restore one broken relationship, which would it be? The friendship with Megan. Do you Skype? With Sara. Have you ever called anyone ‘bro’ other than your actual brother? I'll call p much anyone that. Have you ever blocked someone on MySpace before? Maybe? What is the best kind of pizza in your opinion? Pan meat lovers omfg. Stick with jalapeno tho with trying to at least lean towards vegetarianism. Is there something that someone has done to you that you cannot forgive? Eh... I think I've forgiven him. Do you scream at scary parts in a horror flick? No. What is your favorite restaurant? Olive Garden. Has anyone ever drunk called/texted you? No. Are any of your pets “overweight”? No. How do you feel about weed? I'm totally for it medicinally. Helps with too many things. Otherwise, for reasons I've said in many old surveys, I don't believe it should be smoked. We already complain enough about cigarettes and lung cancer. How many people have you kissed that you weren’t dating? None. Who was the last person that ditched you? How did you react? Mini, I guess. Was hurt as fuck for years until I recently confronted her, and we're cool now. Who is your best friend of the opposite sex? Girt is like... my only male friend besides Dad. What size are the pants you’re wearing? Large, probably? Were you a fan of Michael Jackson before he died? I went neither way. Liked some songs, didn't like some, no opinion on others. Can you spot constellations in the night sky? Only the Big or Little Dipper. I dunno the difference. What kind of shampoo did you last use? I dunno exactly. Mom just put some in a smaller, nameless bottle for while I'm at Sara's. It's probably Suave, though. If you had a hippie bus, what would it look like? Gimme all the peace signs and trippy patterns. Have you ever hitchhiked? No. Would you rather hike a mountain or explore a cave? EXPLORE A CAVE BITCH Would you rather wear a flower crown or veil? For my wedding, probably a veil. I can't see a flower crown going with a (probably) black dress lmao. Do you go barefoot often? I'm always barefoot in the house, but outside, I always have shoes. What is your favorite thing to get high off of? N/A What type of tattoo do you want? Most of the ones I want hold personal meaning. There's few I want to get for solely aesthetic purposes. What is your favorite insect? Butterflies. Favorite constellation? *shrug* Beach wedding, forest wedding, or English countryside wedding? Forest! Does pineapple belong on pizza? NO. Do you have any big plans for November? No. What upcoming event are you most looking forward to? Christmas. I doubt Halloween's gonna be anything I'd like it to be. What was the last song you heard? "Letter" by Mother Mother is on. Compared to someone else of your age and gender; do you feel that you have a lot to offer someone? HAHAHAHA NO. How many days a week do you work? N/A Is there ONE person you feel more connected to than others? Sara and Mom. Where did your eye color come from? Mom's dad had blue eyes, I think. Have you ever been in a recording studio? No. What is your worst relationship quality? I'm paranoid. I'm that "do you still like me?" person after marriage, I'm sure. What was your most recent serious injury? Does sun poisoning from Hell itself count? When was the last time you baked something for someone? Never lmao. Would you rather be kissed on the neck or on the lips? I mean it depends on the mood. What is one thing you’re not looking forward to in the next week? I'm going home Wednesday. Would you consider Christmas your favorite holiday? Second-fave. How many chances do you normally give someone before giving up on them? Way too fucking many. But it also depends on the offense and person. Did you parents know what gender you were before you were born? Yeah. Are you for or against inter-racial relationships? Totally for. Would you say you’re more of a pessimist or optimist? I'm definitely a realist, but if I had to pick, I lean more towards pessimism. Have you ever been addicted to something unhealthy? No. When the holidays come around, do you watch holiday movies? Not really. Would you say you’re a friendly person or not so much? I think I'm very friendly, just shy and awkward socially. When was the last time you ate something from Burger King? LEMME TELL YOU THIS SHIT. Months ago, I went for a veggie burger. THESE. IDIOTS. Put all the normal shit BUT NO PATTY IN A FUCKING BUN. WHEN THEY HAVE ACTUAL VEGGIE PATTIES. We waited forever, so Mom was already in a bad mood. She went in and the manager was livid; she gave us a free drink and fries. BUT, the burger fucking sucked, it was so overcooked. Sooo that was fun. When someone mentions a song, does it make you wanna listen to it? Rarely if it's a song I don't know, unless I like the artist. Song title may interest me, too. Who is the nosiest person you know? Do you like them anyways? BITCH ME. Are you one of those people who like The Nightmare Before Christmas? Okay so, I first watched it in school and I didn't like it at all. Then I started loving it??? I have like sooo much Jack stuff. What’s the best food to have at a sleepover? Pizza! Do you like the yellow Cheetos better or the orange ones? You mean normal or hot? Gimme them spicy boiz. Do you know anybody with different colored eyes? No. Are any of your relatives vets? Don't believe so. Who cleans the most in your house? Mom. I really need to do it more. Do you own any shirts that cost over 100$? Jfc no. What about any shoes? Do you think that’s a lot of money for clothes? No, and obviously. What’s the movie theater in your town called? Uhhh I think Cinemax? How many minutes do you consider late? Over five. What kinds of food do you dunk into milk? Some cookies. Do you have any current or past teachers on your Facebook friends? No. Are there any baby pictures of you up? On FB? No. Do you have any friends who have bleached blonde hair? Maybe Alon still does, idk. Are you wearing any jewelry that a boyfriend/girlfriend gave you? No. Have you ever seen the last person you kissed cry? Yeah. What’s the last thing you were excited to eat? A donut sobs. Who's the most romantic person you ever went out with? I dunno... none were/are like especially romantic. Is there anything hanging from the ceiling in your room? Some Pyramid Head gift tags, a stuffed fae dragon from WoW, and a cool lantern. Have you ever seen the last person you hugged dressed up fancy? Not in person, but in pictures. (If your parents married), Do you know where they got engaged? No. What was the last picture you printed of? The reference I made of my tattoo for the artist. What restaurant has the best fries? Bojangle's the Queen. What does your mailbox look like? Just a basic black one. Have you ever gotten something stuck on the roof? Probs as a kid. Does your computer make a lot of noise? Not really. Unless it's overheating. Who did you last drink or smoke up with? Mom and Sara. How many board games do you own? Idk, there's just a few in a cabinet in the living room. What does your BIGGEST mug look like? We don't have any really big ones. Newest musical discovery? I really love Powerwolf. Last thing you cleaned? Clothes. What exactly do you carry around all your stuff in? Purse. What do you carry around, typically? Phone, iPod, wallet, hand sanitizer, keys... Where is your newest scar? There's still a little scab on the bottom of my tat from heavy shading, but it's almost healed. If you mean like, "real" scar, cat scratch on my right hand. Where is your oldest scar? Ummm probably this random one on the top of my right wrist. No clue where it came from, been there for years. Last thing you disposed of? A bottle, I think? Are you good at recovering from injuries? I dunno. How many different public restrooms have you used this week? I think just one, at the reptile convention. Do you have more piercings or tattoos? Currently tied at six, but piercings the day I get home and get my tongue redone. What color and type is your vehicle? N/A Looking to upgrade or add any time soon? N/A What animal do you have the most possessions *of*, or featuring? Meerkats. What do you use to wash your dishes? Ugh, hands, gross. I refuse to have my own home that doesn't have a dishwasher. Last thing you measured? Ummm probably water when I was making ramen. Last thing you weighed? Myself. Do you talk to your parent(s) [almost] every day? Ma, yes. Last person to tell you that you smell good? Sara although I don't see how, I needed a shower. @_@ Last person you told that they smell good? Sara. How many iPhones have you had? One, I think? Last person you ran into unexpectedly? Good question. Last compliment you received on your appearance? Uhhh idk. On your character/personality? Sara's mom pointed out this morning that she liked how I watch out for Sara and reminded her to call the library (applied there) and it made me so happy alkdjowie. Her approval is important to me. Do you remain friends with anyone you met at your first job? No. Woulda liked to, but. How many chargers do you have for your current cell phone? One, though Mom's fits mine, too. Do you have a good work/life balance? N/A Have you ever ordered pizza online? Yeah. Do you own a treadmill? No, but I want one. Have you ever signed up for a gym membership? Yeah. What color was the last fish you had? I couldn't tell you. Is there a garbage can in your room? What color is it? No. Have you ever read in the bathtub? I may've as a kid? Does your animal sleep with you? Roman, pretty much always. Rarely Teddy, but hhe doesn't like getting off the bed; I put him on it if he wants, so getting down's the only thing. Have you ever had to wear a hairnet? I think I have, but I don't recall for what? How many favorites do you have on YouTube? Holy shit idk. I used to favorite almost anything I liked, though for like a year or so now I've been really picky with what I favorite because it's become a playlist I go to that I know will cheer me up or are just videos I find very important. What kind was the last chip you ate? Uhhhh Lays, p sure. What is your favorite song to play on Guitar Hero or Rockband? I physically cannot play "Hotel California" by the Eagles without moving in some sort of way or singing.  The fucking solo ahhhhhhhhhh goosebumps every time.

[frozs]

Kakuzu discover's Hidan's backstory and its actually really disappointing and a bit shit

Part 7 of the Kakuzu and Hidan are very Australian dickheads series.

Read the rest of the shitty fics on tumblr or AO3. 

Warnings: Woolworths, Orochimaru making his terrible appearance, kakuzu noses about, no punchline, something gay happens  

Note: Set before Kakuzu and Hidan marry.  The event where a rat climbed up the sewer drain and died, and had to get rid of using a pasta spoon and a stake happened to me three days ago. It was traumatising. 0/10 don’t recommend. Special shout out to @thatshipcat, because we were on voice chat on discord while I was driving and I asked her to go on this chapter and add a few things in for the chapter for me because I can’t write and drive at the same time. 10/10 do recommend.

Orochimaru was a plastic surgeon infamous for fucking up his face enough to be stared at in the street. He was also Kakuzu’s former college, and happened to be in town this week.

Kakuzu had discovered this when Orochimaru texted him out of the blue, asking why Kakuzu was with ‘one of those Jashinist weirdos’ and wearing the Commonwealth Bank uniform. Apparently, Orochimaru walked past the bank, spotted Kakuzu as he exited, holding Hidan at the scruff of his neck, and depositing him on the side of the road to hopefully be run over.

Because Kakuzu noticed that Orochimaru knew Hidan was a Jashinist, he got a bit curious. Orochimaru must have been acquainted with Hidan sometime ago. He was certainly weird enough to be associated with Hidan. He was also knowledgeable enough that he would likely know a bit about the strange cult with the follower who was an immortal asshole.

So Kakuzu responded to the message, asking Orochimaru to meet him for drinks at the tavern near his townhouse. Even if he had no answers, Kakuzu expected it to be entertaining enough.

While normally Kakuzu didn’t really give a fuck about reconnecting with old coworkers, Orochimaru was an exception if only because the man was so ridiculous that he amused even Kakuzu.

Case in point: The last time he saw him was around ten years ago at a conference at the Medical Union meeting in western Sydney. Orochimaru had split his tongue in half, demanded he was to be only referred to with genderless pronouns and had put enough lip fillers in his lip to make them explode.  Kakuzu remembered having a bit of a smirk at that.

As Kakuzu was preparing to meet Orochimaru, however, Deidara rang him about a rat in the toilet. He immediately texted Orochimaru to tell him he would be late.

According to Deidara, the toilet rat came in from the sewers in their current place. He had refused to go anywhere near it, and so did Sasori and Hidan. A week had passed, and now the rat was lying dead in the loo, passed out from a bottle of disinfectant being poured over it to get it to stop scrambling. Deidara sat on a kmart beanbag and stared at his phone for a few hours until Kakuzu arrived and got pissed about the messy bathroom and the rotting animal. In the end, Kakuzu used a pasta spoon taped on to a wooden stake to get rid of it.

“How old is Hidan?” Kakuzu asked Deidara afterwards.

Deidara squinted at Kakuzu. “He’s like… twenty five, yeah? He was three grades above me at school.”

“...So he’s not old?”

“What do you mean?” Deidara wasn’t exactly dumb but he didn’t understand Kakuzu’s question at all.

“How long has he been able to not die?” Kakuzu clarified.

“Hmm….” said Deidara, pausing. He put a strand of blond hair behind his ear and then he said, finally, “I dunno.”

Kakuzu sighed. “You’re not very informative, you know that?”

“And you don’t really ask questions.” At least Deidara had the correct social skills to realise he was fucking about with Kakuzu. Sasori and Hidan on the other hand could not act normal around anyone. “Hidan was a nerdy religious asshole in high school. He hasn’t grown up, and never will. Argumentative as fuck, immature, and thought that putting a javelin through his leg on sports day was art. As an itty bitty year seven, seeing a year nine do that to themself… was pretty fucking cool, yeah.”

Right. So he definitely wasn’t someone who had stopped aging. “So how come you know still know him?”

“Saw him at orientation day at the University of Canberra. He’d been kicked out and was arguing with security. He said UoC was shit because you can get the same info from Wikipedia, and that they discriminated against him because of his religion, yeah. The next day, I saw him on Gumtree looking for a housemate, so we moved in together with Sasori. I decided to never go to university -  fuck HECS.”

Deidara smirked and turned back to his phone. Kakuzu tried again.

“I’ve just been in contact with an old acquaintance,” Orochimaru wasn’t exactly a friend. He was more of a science experiment from back in the day. “He knows Hidan. The name is Orochimaru. A plastic surgeon.”

“You mean Orocunt?” said Deidara, not looking up, fingers flying over the screen of his phone. “Hidan calls him Orocunt, yeah.”

“How do you know him?”

Deidara held up the stump of his arm, which had been covered in tattoos since it was blown off in an explosions accident several years ago. “Hidan recommended him as a plastic surgeon. He made my remaining arm look like an amputated arm, not like a mangled blown off stump it was with muscle and bone everywhere.”

“How does he know Hidan?”

Deidara shrugged. “I dunno.”

Deidara’s answers weren't exactly riveting or informative, but Kakuzu knew that asking Sasori would be a waste of time, he would be even vaguer.

“I’m meeting him in an hour,” said Kakuzu.

“Cool,” Deidara muttered, staring at his phone. “Hidan or Orochimaru?”

“Orochimaru. I try to avoid Hidan any day of the week.”

“I’d also avoid Orochimaru any day of the week. That MJ look was scary. It isn’t art, yeah. Good luck and don’t split your tongue in half.”

***

At the local mall where Konan’s floristry was, there was also a tavern opposite Woolworths where gambling addicts played their day away. It was a bistro with faded yellow brick walls with large pieces of ugly decor art hung up slightly crooked. It was quiet for the time of day.

While most people were fashionably late, Orochimaru arrived several hours early to any event. He was waiting for Kakuzu when he entered the tavern, looking like he did a decade ago: black straightened hair down to the waist with no gray in sight, high cheekbones and eyes slanted from several botched eye lifts. He couldn’t seem to smile like he used to, as the amount of botox he used permanently froze his face. In short, he looked more like a snake than ever. He was holding a handbag, putting something pink away when he looked up to see Kakuzu.

“Kakuzu,” he said warmly. Orochimaru refused to shake hands, as he claimed it was unsanitary. Which was no big deal, as Kakuzu didn’t exactly want to touch Orochimaru, either. “It’s been a while. I knew it was you with Hidan at the bank. What happened to your face?” He nodded towards the scars where Hidan had slashed him with a knife several years ago.

“Hidan.”

“Ah.” Orochimaru yellow eyes trailed down Kakuzu’s tanned arm, where there was a burn mark. “And what happened to your arm?”

“Hidan.” The mark was from New Years when Hidan and Deidara put fireworks in a drum in his courtyard, and Hidan’s hand was sliced off and Kakuzu had to stitch it back on together.

“You aren’t going to get it covered?”

Kakuzu shrugged, and took a laminated menu from the plastic holder. “Nobody asks.”

“I can’t imagine anyone asking you anything to be honest,” Orochimaru said. He didn’t even touch the menu, but then again Kakuzu had never seen Orochimaru eat, so he must survive on air. Kakuzu put the menu back, deciding to only get a lemon and lime bitter. “I’m surprised you have changed careers. Was being a heart surgeon too hard for you?”

Kakuzu shrugged. “Different career. Bored of the hospital. I’ve only been out of there for four years.”

“Yes, being a surgeon is ever so boring,” said Orochimaru. Kakuzu forgot how strange and sly Orochimaru’s voice was. It was like being lectured and being treated like a child all at once. He clicked his tongue, which was still split in two. “Nowadays, I go mostly on holidays around the world with my sons, Mitsuki and Mitsuki.”

“Why are they both called Mitsuki?”

Orochimaru lips struggled to smile, but didn’t say anything. After an awkward silence, Kakuzu decided to get to the point of what he really came to see Orochimaru for. “I need some information on Hidan. You are, as I remember, very good at knowing other people’s affairs.”

“Do you have to pay me to give you information?” Orochimaru raised his eyebrows at him. Kakuzu glanced around before leaned in a little. He wasn’t planning to give any money to Orochimaru, and he knew Orochimaru didn’t care about money, so it didn’t matter. “What do you want to know?”

“The other month Hidan chopped his own head off and I had to reattach it,” said Kakuzu, crossing his arms and leaning back. “How can he do that? He claims it comes from his God, Jashin. Orochimaru, I have seen him do things nobody should be able to survive.”

“I actually met Hidan several years ago on my travels in Europe with Mitsuki. I believe it might have been Croatia - they film Game of Thrones in Dubrovnik. Probably why he was there.”

Kakuzu knew that Hidan’s Game of Thrones obsession was borderline crazy, but didn’t realise that Hidan had actually gone overseas just to go on a set tour. “Croatia? Why Croatia?”

“I think he’d been all over the world, searching for Jashin.  He was a backpacker who had dropped out of high school, who was staying in the same hotel as me and my sons -  a six star hotel with golden floors and lavish marble ceilings.”

That didn’t exactly sound like a place Hidan would go. It was definitely somewhere Kakuzu would go if he had the chance, but Hidan was more of a hostel type of guy.

“I met Hidan in the lobby. He was drunk at the time, but managed to tell me many things; that he was traveling the world searching for his god, who he called Jashin; that he dreamed of him every night since he was a child; that, no matter where he went, he could not find any information about his faith or proof of his god’s existence. It drove him insane, poor thing. He must have been only 16?”

“He still is.”

“No, he has seemed to have grown down instead of grown up,” said Orochimaru.

“After a series of visions of hooded men in a golden hotel, Hidan went on Tripadvisor and looked at pictures of hotel lobbies. He then found himself in Croatia.” Kakuzu rolled his eyes at this, and Orochimaru smirked and carried on. “I’m not sure how he was able to afford the hotel - but he told me that he had been staying there for a while, watching, waiting.”

“While we were talking, these men in black hoods went down the stairs and he rushed away, ranting that these they were the people he was looking for. I did not follow him, but as I myself am interested in immortality, I took a video from the hotel security footage.”

Orochimaru took out his iPad, one of those large inconvenient ones from his handbag. As he unlocked the ridiculously huge tablet, Kakuzu noticed his wallpaper was of Itachi Uchiha from the police force.

Hidan’s hair was shorter, and sticking up at the back. He was literally dressed in - Kakuzu recognised the outfit - singlet and shorts. The Jashinist circle was drawn in white on the lobby floor - everything was golden, like Orochimaru described. People wearing summer clothes were crowded around, silent and watching the bizarre scene in front of them. Four tall figures wearing black robes hoods had circled Hidan, which seemed weird as it was June on the timestamp, and he was shouting at them in another language.

“Is he speaking Croatian?”

“No, most likely gibberish,” said Orochimaru. “Hidan is very good at shouting in gibberish.” This was true. Occasionally, Kakuzu heard Hidan ramble nonsensically, though he could never make sense of what he was saying. He returned his attention to the iPad video.

Suddenly, Hidan shoved one of the figures away. The four of them threw him to the ground, and two pinning him to the floor and the last -

“Is that a syringe?”

Orochimaru nodded. A bellowing scream, raw and loud, erupted from Hidan, and the crowd around him scattered in fright. It was truly something Kakuzu had never heard before from anyone he had killed. It wasn’t pleading, and it didn’t seem to even sound like Hidan. He could only compare it to the wretched wailing of a thousand souls… The hooded figures disappeared, leaving Hidan on the lobby floor, mouth open and body still.  

The video cut off. Orochimaru put the rather large tablet back in his purse.

“The Jashinist cult mixes serious religion with illegal experimentation,” said Orochimaru. “After this video, Hidan was pronounced dead. I was the one to call the police to take the body away.”

“How long was he dead?”

“Until the cremation, so two weeks,” said Orochimaru. “No parents, a foster kid out on the streets. They put his body into the oven… and he jerked upright and ran away. He came back to me to get his passport, covered in soot. Didn’t even say thank you.” Orochimaru flicked a bit of imaginary dust off the table.

“Since when do I ever say thank you?” A large hand clapped on Kakuzu’s shoulder. Kakuzu didn’t even turn around as Hidan sat down next to him, reached over and drank the entire contents of Kakuzu’s glass. He was wearing a fluro yellow work shirt, which was part of his medical courier uniform.

“How’s it going Orocunt? Not well I hope. I heard from someone that you were trying to get information on me. I won’t name my source, but let’s just say his name rhymes with... Gay Bara .” He turned to Kakuzu. “You could have just asked, Kakucunt. I'm an open book.”

“What’s the fun in that?” Orochimaru asked. “You aren’t known for your straight up answers.”

“True.” said Kakuzu.

Hidan shrugged. “So what are you doing here? Last I heard you were in Chile doing…South American things. Whatever people do in South America. Latin ballroom dancing and praying to statues of the Virgin Mary in back gardens.”

“What’s wrong with seeing an old friend?” said Orochimaru.

“Since when does Kakuzu has friends then aren’t money?” asked Hidan. He smirked. “Did you know Kakuzu sleeps with money under his pillow,” he voice lowered to a whisper. “ The Tooth Fairy spoils him .”

“I do not.”

“Oh, me and Kakuzu go way back,” said Orochimaru, sipping his water dainty, with a pinkie out. “Around the time of medical school. We usually partnered up with experiments, and worked on cadavers together. We also did other experiments outside of medical school, too.”

“What sort of experiments? Like on other bodies?”

“Don’t say it,” said Kakuzu.

“Say what?” Hidan replied almost instantly. “Come on, tell me the goss on good old ‘Kuzu. I’m sure Snakepants here has plenty of boring experiments to tell. Are you single and looking to mingle? Kakuzu’s your man.” Hidan nudged Orochimaru and winked.

“I’m married to myself now,” Orochimaru pointedly informed Hidan, watching his face go from interested to a slight cringe. “But back in the day, as two medical students, we slept together for a science experiment.”

Kakuzu could have facepalmed hard right now, and Hidan looked like he was either shocked or trying not to laugh. “You fucked Trump’s wife?”

Now Kakuzu was trying not to laugh at Orochimaru’s almost offensive look. Hidan looked from Kakuzu to Orochimaru. “But he’s old?”

“I’m old,” Orochimaru pointed out. “We’re the same age.”

“I forget you are even more immortal than me,” said Hidan. “I thought you would have to cut off Kakuzu’s dick to see the rings to see how old he is.”

“He is rather well endowed,” Orochimaru noted with a smirk, “but not quite the size of a tree, I’m afraid.”

“What, like Hashirama?” Hidan joked. Then his face went a bit white. “Hang on… I’ve known you for four years, Kakuzu. I thought you were ace as fuck, and you're not!?”

“Can we not discuss my sexuality?” Kakuzu was feeling a bit pissed now, because he had been forced to opened up when he didn’t want to. Kakuzu made himself uninteresting on purpose: After all, it would be incredibly inconvenient for anyone to go sniffing around in the private life of a serial killer. Besides Orochimaru, he had only ever slept with one other person - but that was a detail that he did not want Hidan to pester him with. “I have better things to do then talk about people I've slept with.”

“People?! Not just Orocunt?” mocked Hidan. “No wonder I've never seen you remotely even be interested in someone.”

“I am certain that Kakuzu is a sociopath, Hidan.” said Orochimaru. “I believe the only person he ever dated was Tsunade. What was the reason you broke up with her, again, Kakuzu?”

There it was. The one detail that he did not want Hidan to know.

“Gambling addict,” he neutrally replied, staring at the sugar packets on the table as he resisted the urge to strangle both his partner in crime and his former colleague.

“Man, Kakuzu,” Hidan clapped his hand on Kakuzu’s shoulder. “I've learned more about you today than I ever wanted to know.”

Orochimaru frowned. “I was under the assumption Hidan was your husband,” he said. “Gay marriage is legal after all.”

“I’m only gay for Jashin, you know.” Hidan kissed his pendant and happened to glance at the time on his fitbit.

“Anyway, this is the shittest conversation I’ve ever had in my life,” he said. “I was supposed to deliver a fetus to the other hospital around two hours ago. See you later, Kakucunt, Orocunt.” He stalked off, knocking over someone’s water on purpose as he left the tavern. Kakuzu watched Hidan undo the leash of his dog before driving off in his car.

His head whipped toward Orochimaru, expression furious. “Thank you for telling Hidan that,” Kakuzu hissed.

“No problem,” said Orochimaru lightly. “Thought he might have needed to know you aren’t as boring as you actually are.”

“I prefer being boring,” said Kakuzu. “I think I may go now.”

“Hang on.” Orochimaru rummaged around in his handbag. “I have done what I can with this.” Kakuzu opened his hand, and Orochimaru deposited a small volumetric flask in his palm, with pink liquid, the colour of Hidan’s strange eyes. “It is leftover materials from the syringe.”

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

Orochimaru shrugged. “I don’t know. According to my analysis, it is solely composed of dihydrogen monoxide.”

“Also known as water.”

“Clearly… there is more to it.”

With that, Orochimaru left, taking out a large pair of sunglasses to cover his frozen face, handbag swinging away. Kakuzu stared down at the small flask, shimmering liquid twirling from moving so much. He didn’t know what to do. Too much information, too much nosing about, but this? He wasn’t expecting this. Now, he possibly held the secret to immortality in his hands.

He put the flask in his shopping bag, and went to Woolworths. He tried not to think about what Orochimaru had told him, but it seemed there was more to Hidan then he really wanted to know. Hidan possibly wasn’t as dumb as he seemed. He got some sushi for dinner, as being with Orochimaru for too long made him hungry. He received two texts from Hidan.

HIDAN < 6.45 PM >

Kudos fr getiing.the.rat out fo the.toilest. shit was gros

HIDAN < 6.47 PM >

Got.th dog.

Instead of taking Taki for a walk, which was his usual routine, he sat down outside in his courtyard for a smoke, staring at the bottle of moving pink liquid Orochimaru gave him. He took the flask and put it in the bin along with his cigarette.

That night, Kakuzu dreamt of only one picture: The triangle encased in the circle. He could not get rid of it, and struggled to wake up from it. Finally, his unconscious brain got rid of the image, which he felt thankful for.

Until the next thing he saw in his vision was a car hurtling full speed in him.

Kakuzu woke up with sweat all over him, jerking upright, his alarm clock screaming away. He rubbed his eyes and turned to the clock, about to turn it off, and he froze.

The shimmering pink flask had returned - and it was on his bedside table. It shined mockingly with the light of his phone, buzzing with incoming texts.

HIDAN < 8.14 AM >

stupid fuckn roommmate.found another pest - a snake in the garden

HIDAN < 8.19 AM >

cme over.nd.help me get.rid.of.it

HIDAN < 8.22 AM >

bring the ricin.

[chewytongue]

All character solidifying Qs with Lou? Lou is my fave

1. How does you character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence- literal or imagined- did the father have?Lou used to have a good relationship with their dad before the divorce, their Dad is very caring and wants the best for them. After the divorce they’re really bitter towards him because he doesn’t manage to get custody and moves away. They feel like he abandoned them despite promising that he’d do everything he could to make sure their mom didn’t get custody and they stay mad at him for a really long time. They don’t see each other until Lou graduates high school and it’s a long process to patch things up between them. Lou has problems trusting people cause of that and also is weary about being openly queer since their father spent most of his life in the closet and didn’t receive overly positive reactions when he did come out.

2. Their mother? How do they think of her? What do they hate? Love? What influence- literal or imagined- did the mother have?They have a really bad relationship with her, she’s emotionally/mentally abusive and they take a lot of the things she says to heart. They don’t trust adults or people in positions of power because of her and are very self conscious and consider themselves a failure since she never gave them any positive reinforcements. They also can’t have someone yell at them without completely shutting down. There isn’t much they like about her other than the fact that no matter what she was a relentless bitch.

3. They don’t have any siblings

4. What type of discipline was your character subjected to at home? Strict? Lenient?Either there was no discipline, since overall their mother didn’t care what they did, or they’d get belittled/yelled at if they did something wrong/something that effected their mom (specifically her work/reputation).

5. Were they overprotected as a child? Sheltered?Absolutely not.

6. Did they feel rejection or affection as a child? Definitely rejection. Their dad gave them lots of affection before the divorce but the divorce happened when they were five so most of their childhood they were neglected.

7. What was the economic status of their family?Upper middle class, their mom’s a lawyer and made good money.

8. How does your character feel about religion?They have a very complicated relationship. They were raised catholic and used to go to church but stopped when they were 7 and started reading up on satanism. They like having a higher power to believe in and start going to church again when they’re older but still lean towards satanism.

9. What about political beliefs?They hate politics and I doubt they ever get their license to vote, if they do they probably just ask Ike who he’s voting for.

10. Is your character street-smart, book-smart, intelligent, intellectual, slow-witted?They don’t do well in school but they know a lot about the things they’re actually interested in, like religion and survival. I guess they’re intelligent? Idk.

11. How do they see themselves: as smart, as intelligent, uneducated?They consider themselves a dumbass because they measure that sort of stuff by the grades they received during school.

12. How does their education and intelligence- or lack thereof- reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary, and pronunciations? Hmm. Well.. they use a lot of words like ‘dunno’ ‘y’know’ ‘shoulda’ etc. and they trip over their words sometimes. I wouldn’t say that reflects their intelligence though.

13. Did they like school? Teachers? Schoolmates?They hated school and didn’t try very hard so teachers were never overly fond of them. They were bullied for a while and weren’t very good at making friends, I think they actually went out of their way to avoid making friends.

14. Were they involved in school? Sports? Clubs? Debate? Were they unconnected?Nope. They did their best to fade into the background and go unnoticed.

15. Did they graduate? High school? College? Do they have a PHD? A GED?They graduated high school and that came as a surprise to them. They didn’t go to post-secondary.

16. What does your character do for a living? How do they like their profession? What do they like about it? Dislike?I actually decided that the job I have (a personal shopper) would be a great fit for them lmao. So that’s what they do, not forever cause they probably have to take a decent amount of time off to take care of themselves. They do graveyards since they hardly sleep anyway and so that they don’t have to interact with too many people so they don’t mind it overall, they do hate the occasional interaction with customers though.

17. Did they travel? Where? Why? When?They went to Disneyland before the divorce, just for a family vacation. They went to Toronto for their dad’s wedding after graduation. They’ve also been to Mexico with Mickey and Ike for Mickey’s cousin’s wedding sometime in their late 20s.

18. What did they find abroad, and what did they remember?They don’t remember much from their trip to Disneyland other than crying on the tea cup ride. In Toronto it was very awkward and they had a very bad mental breakdown during the reception. They spent an hour talking to Ike on the phone in the parking lot of a gas station across from where the reception was being held and drank a large slurpee. They probably threw up later that night from the alcohol from the wedding and all the sugar. In Mexico they ended up ‘reconnecting’ with god and also got a nice necklace from one of Mickey’s aunts. So like yeah they’ve had some good travel experiences.

19. What were your character’s deepest delusions? In life? What are they now?That their dad abandoned them, that they were going to die before they got to graduation, and that everything their mom said about them was tea™️. They also don’t believe that they’re capable of getting better.

20. Honest to god I ain’t got a clue they live in the same time we do.

21. What are your character’s manners like? What is their type of hero? Whom do they hate?They have very good manners when it comes to being polite people that are older than them but they can be pretty rude to people that are their age, especially if they don’t like them. They’re a big fan of the heroes in murder mysteries, specifically detectives like Poirot. And they hate a lot of people, specifically their middle school bullies and their mom, also politicians.

22. Who are their friends? Lovers? ‘Type’ or ‘ideal’ partner?Mickey and Ike are the only people they’ve had any sort of long lasting relationship with. Ike’s their best friend and has been since elementary school. They don’t really have a ‘type’, they’ve never considered what their type is since they never really got crushes and have only been in a relationship with Ike and Mickey. Overall, I&M are their ideal partners since they’re the only people they’ve ever felt comfortable with.

23. What do they want from a partner? What do they think and feel of sex?They kinda just want someone to chill with. They’re not big romance or sex, but they definitely don’t mind it, so long as their partner respects that they’re not always or often going to be down.

24. What social group and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play usually?They attend group therapy on the rare occasion when Ike and/or Mickey drag them to it lmao??? They’re a wallflower and don’t take part in groups, they don’t like interacting with people.

25. What are their hobbies and interests?They love nature, they have lots of survival/plant/insect books, they’re also really into history, legends and witchcraft. They spend a lot of time in the woods and reading, mostly they read murder mysteries and try to figure out who the killer was before it’s revealed.

26. What does your character’s home look like? Personal taste? Clothing? Hair? Appearance?Their childhood home is medium sized, their room was upstairs and kinda a mess, they had lots of random junk in their room. They move into an apartment that they take better care of with Ike and Mickey’s help, they still keep a lot of random junk though. Their room is kinda crowded (in both houses). They like rooms to be darker and more filled cause it feels more cozy and makes them feel less vulnerable. They wear dark, concealing clothes, or they steal Mickey’s shirts, normally their tops are oversized. They’re hair is a mess and only looks decent because Mickey takes care of it for them. They’re pale and look very tired. Cause they are. Very tired.

27. How do they relate to their appearance? How do they wear their clothing? Style? Quality?They look like a disaster and they are. They start taking better care of themselves after they move out and when Mickey moves in and tries to make them put more effort into their appearance. Most of their clothes are thrifted, typically their pants are well fitted but their tops, specifically sweaters, are too big. They don’t have a specific style, but almost everything they wear are in dark shades.

28. Who is your character’s mate? How do they relate to them? How did they make their choice?Lmao I guess Ike and Mickey are their ‘mates’. They’re very different from both of them, they share some interests, Mickey’s into witchcraft and such spiritual things, and them and Ike have much history. They didn’t really ‘choose’ them it kinda just happened and I don’t think they’re sure how it happened, not that they’re going to complain.

29. What is your character’s weakness? Hubris? Pride? Controlling?They’re very distrusting, stubborn and don’t put much effort into anything. Also just very bad at communicating with people.

30. Are they holding onto something in the past? Can they forgive?They held onto the whole issue with their dad for most of their life but are working towards forgiving them; however, they can’t forgive how their mom treated them.

31. Nah son they don’t have kids.

32. How does your character react to stress situations? Defensively? Aggressively? Evasively?They either get too deep into their thoughts or dissociate, either way they’re probably shutting down.

33. Do they drink? Take drugs? What about their health?They don’t drink too often. The only drugs they take are antidepressants which they get when they’re 27, which they should’ve gotten sooner. Mentally their health is shit, they don’t take very good care of themselves either and can only run about three blocks before their out of breath.

34. Does your character feel self righteous? Revengeful? Contemptuous?Very much contemptuous.

35. Do they always rationalize errors? How do they accept disasters and failures?They just stopped giving a shit in grade 7.

36. Do they like to suffer? Like to see these people suffering?They don’t exactly like to suffer but they definitely make themselves suffer cause they think it’s what they deserve. They don’t like seeing other people suffer but of course there’s some people they wouldn’t mind seeing get tortured.

37. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?They spent a lot of time daydreaming about running away/disappearing. If not that their mind is full of invasive thoughts or completely blank.

38. Are they basically negative when facing new things? Suspicious? Hostile? Scared? Enthusiastic?They’re definitely weary about most new things, but not outright negative about them.

39. What do they like to ridicule? What do they find stupid?Themselves!! Haha!!

40. How is their sense of humour? Do they have one?They enjoy dark humour? Or like.. very odd humour. They might laugh at a really good pun or meme from time to time though.

41. Is your character aware of who they are? Strengths? Weaknesses? Idiosyncrasies? Capable of self-irony?They aren’t completely aware of what they could be capable of if they tried harder, but they’re very much aware of the state that they’re currently in they just don’t think that there’s a way to get out of it.

42. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?I guess they want freedom. They’d willingly sacrifice relationships, and cut people out of their life, to obtain it. I guess they’d also sacrifice their life since they see death as the only way they’ll ever achieve true freedom??

43. Does your character have any secrets? If so are they holding them back?Uh I can’t think of anything specific but yeah they have secrets. They keep a lot to themselves and if anyone is gonna know it’s gonna be Ike but sometimes he’s only going to know the bare minimum.

44. How badly do they want to obtain their life objectives? How do they pursue them?They don’t work very hard to get what they want, they’ll do small things but if it’s going to take a lot of effort they’re more likely to find away around it or just give up.

45. Is your character pragmatic? Think first? Responsible? All action? A visionary? Passionate? Quixotic?They think first, but a lot of the time they don’t like the make decisions themselves.

46. Is your character tall? Short? What about size? Weight? Posture? How do they feel about their physical body?Uhh.. I’m still considering what their exact height is.. 5’7” ish? So they’re about average height maybe? They’re thin cause they don’t eat very well. And overall not a big fan of their physical form.

47. Do they want to project an image of a younger, older, more important person? Do they want to be visible or invisible?I guess they don’t really care what sort of image they project, they just don’t want to be noticed. An image that says ‘leave me the fuck alone’ perhaps?

48. How are your character’s gestures? Vigorous? Weak? Controlled? Compulsive? Energetic? Sluggish?Very restrained, normally they touch their arms/hands/neck a lot.

49. What about their voice? Pitch? Strength? Tempo and rhythm or speech? Prononciation? Accent?Their voice is raspy and quiet, sometimes they trip over their words.

50. What are their prevailing facial expressions? Sour? Cheerful? Dominating?Sour/tired.

Holy guacamole that took a long time but thank you so much I’m glad that you like Lou!!!!

[gimmedatingadvice]

tw: sexual harassment (?)

hi!

so this is gonna be a long ride, get ya popcorn ready! (:

i’ve sent this ask to many blogs because I wanted different points of view, I hope you don’t mind. dunno if some details are off in the asks, I cannot even remember what I ate yesterday so it’s hard to remember.

so many coworker questions here already…mine isn’t really about love but rather a pretty unusual friendship and boundaries. hope you don’t mind.

I’m a nurse as well, blessed with a wonderful team. we hang out in our free time (outside of Covid obviously), and due to our work being a huge part of our life, I consider them my family. there are people of all different nations, ages, religions, and so on…but we all do get along well.

so do I and one of the docs. I’m 24, he’s 48. well, some men never grow up.

we’ve known each other ever since we both started working there several years ago, and he’s always been a reliable friend. he and my (now) ex (30) were friends as well, and we’d always drink beer together or play basketball with his adorable little daughters. <3

about a month ago, I was at his office like many times before because he wanted to help me with something. when I was at the phone, however, he pulled me towards him and hugged me from behind. even stroked my neck. I’m 1,50m and he’s 1,95m, so it’s pretty obviously how I felt that moment, even though I know he’s not a bad person. overchallenged, I just left and acted like nothing happened. 

he’s pretty dull, but realized sth was off. I didn’t dare talk to him about it though. but I told my ex and he blamed me for being alone with a man and “pretty much invitating” him (there’s a reason he’s my ex lmao). made a big fuss out of it and told the man.

he was shocked and devastated. didn’t sleep for days, apologized a 1000 times. we sat together and talked it over. he told me he never wanted to make me feel unsafe, and that he’s embarassed of himself. told me it’ll never happen again, and that he tries to be more aware of his actions. but also that I should always straight up tell him when something he does upsets me.

actually, I was quite satisfied with the outcome of the talk. and I swear to god I didn’t feel uncomfortable afterwards. to be honest, I’ve always been a touchy-feely-flirty kinda person, giving hugs and backrubs on a daily basis. so I really, really believe him when he says he didn’t think it would make me feel bad. as far as I know him, he didn’t think at all. :D

many people I told this either acted like I am the b*tch that “led him on” or “is too sensitive” to a man that “only wanted to help me, and now I’m making him seem like an offender”. or they act like he’s a bad predator that only acts like he learned his lesson. but he’s not someone who touches his female colleagues at all, it’s only people like me who are more open about PDA and engage in it first. otherwise, he’d never cross that line.

well, now ever since he’s the one avoiding me. well, I get why he does that.

when I hug him, he totally stiffens and doesn’t reciprocate. when I enter a room, he almost flees as quick as possible. doesn’t want to meet up anymore. he’s still polite and helpful, tells jokes and talks normal to me, but I realized sth was off.

he told me he worries that I’m afraid of him, and only act like everything is alright because I’m always way too nice. so he chose to avoid me as far as possible, so I could work in peace. texted me sth like “handshake from now on? :)”

I really, really appreciate his efforts - but I’m afraid to lose a good friend just because of one mistake he unintentionally made! I think none of us is at fault, and we just need to work this out to get along again. but how? :(

Hello! Haha, alright, I’m ready! *grabs popcorn*

Even though this blog’s purpose is to give dating advice, feel free to send as many asks as you want—I don’t mind, no worries! I genuinely hope I can help you out!

So, first, to be honest, regardless of whether it’s a mistake or not, what he did was sexual harassment. Most people, if they were in your situation, would not stay friends with someone who suddenly hugged them from behind and had their neck stroked without consent. For some people, it would be an extremely traumatizing experience. You reacted differently, but you are not at fault for his inappropriate actions.

I wouldn’t recommend you to stay friends with him, but that’s just my point of view. To answer your question: yes, there is a way to get along again with him and I can give you advice on how, but there is something you should consider before you do that. It’s important for you to think about whether or not you would really be okay with staying friends with him. I just think it’s important for you to be really certain of your decision. The thing is—I know he said he’s sorry, and he might not do something like that again (hopefully he doesn’t), but keep in mind that there is still a possibility for him to do that again. I also noticed that, from what I’ve read, he didn’t say why he suddenly hugged you from behind and touched your neck. He’s 48, so I’m sure he knows what type of behaviours are not allowed in a workplace, even if he’s pretty dull.

If you still want to be friends with him after thinking about your decision, the first thing you should do is contact him first. He’s afraid of what you might think of him now, so unless you reach out to him first, he will keep avoiding you. Ask him when he would be available to talk with you. Tell him you want to get along with him again. Tell him what you told me—you appreciate his efforts, but he doesn’t need to be afraid of you. Be honest and make sure to tell him clearly, so that there will be no misunderstandings.

Good luck!

[dreamingofketchup]

ash & dust

Merry Christmas to the amazing @ghost-kaiju!! I’m your secret santa! I hope you’ll enjoy this fic and the rest of the holidays! (and hopefully this will be uploaded to ao3 soon if I actually figure out how that site works haha)

I picked your first prompt: Kakuzu and Hidan: tag team of hitmen/assassins in modern AU (art or fic)

The Organization gathered the best hitmen from all around the world, masters of deception and assassination; freaks and outcasts and terrifyingly strong. Their methods are not the cleanest – but they always get the job done.

Kakuzu was considered a veteran among the members. No one really knew where he came from; they wasn't even sure Kakuzu was his real name and not many could claim that they had ever seen his face. There were only two things they were sure about: he would do anything for the right amount of money and he never fails a mission.

And his latest partner (Kakuzu preferred not to talk about what happened to the ones before him), Hidan, was also a peculiar one. A runaway kid who started out from the drug business in one of the gangs in the other side of the country and who soon gained fame when he – all alone in a summer afternoon (almost a year ago by now), wielding only his knife and a gun - murdered the head of the rival gang. And survived. That was when the Boss took interest in him and offered Hidan a place in the Organization. He refused at first. Then he refused again. Only when he realized – almost too late – how many people were after him (after the disgustingly high bounty on his head) did he accept the offer of the Akatsuki. No one really understood why didn't the Boss just hand him over for the money.

Together they were unstoppable. Hidan might not have been the most discreet one around – but he sure as hell enjoyed his job. Too loudly usually, lord, he just wouldn't shut up for a moment - but he was not afraid to get his hands dirty. Kakuzu was sure he would successfully finish a mission even if he got both his arms blown off. That brat was a fucking mess.

Kakuzu had to admit that Hidan, despite being the insufferable little bitch he usually was, complemented him quite well. The way he killed was ruthless and painful, but he was honest; he never killed from behind. He always told his victims what he's there for; sometimes they fled, some tried and fought back. Every now and then Kakuzu would watch him fight through the scope of his rifle, the fire in Hidan's eyes (he never bothered to ask about the unnatural eye colour; that was the least weird thing about Hidan), his rapid movements full of pure strength and brutality. He was anything but majestic, a demon incarnate, ugly and loud and ecstatic. It was so different from Kakuzu's cold and habitual professionalism; Hidan was alive when he was playing with death.

And nowadays there was something else in the way Hidan fought. A month or two ago while digging through Kakuzu's book collection he found an old book (Kakuzu couldn't even remember seeing it; he hadn't the slightest idea how it got there.) about an ancient, long forgotten religion, built on violence, pain and human sacrifice. It was practiced thousands of years ago, but Hidan claimed there were still people who called themselves the followers of the vengeful and bloodthirsty Jashin. And he would pray before a mission, holding onto some ugly handmade rosary. It was weird and disturbing, his devotion to this newly-found deity – and the prayers had the tendency to get annoyingly long. Kakuzu in exchange complained a lot about it, even though he understood him way too well; in this profession, in this life one needs such a fixation to avoid going insane.

---------

A few days ago the Boss called both of them to assign them a new mission; not a top one but better than nothing. All they had to do was to get rid of an enforcer and his posse from a Northern City gang. It wasn't unusual for the Organization to get involved in gang or mafia issues; the Boss could always dispatch someone who had affiliations with someone around. And this time it was Hidan. The target was part of a gang named Coppers who originated in Yugakure, Hidan's hometown, operating somewhere in the western blocks of the city. Hidan still had his sources (and the stupidity to actually accept the mission and go back) and Kakuzu decided not to ask too much.

The day of the mission arrived and it was time for him to leave now. Half past five; Hidan should be here already.

And as he left his flat, he could already spot the man leaning against his car on the sidewalk, eyes closed, rosary brought upon his chapped lips. He didn't pay attention even as he approached him. Kakuzu stood next to him in silence for almost a minute. Hidan knew that he was there. Kakuzu knew that he knew. The usual.

- Hey.

No answer. He tried again. Hidan didn't even bother.

- Couldn't you have done this at home? We should get going, idiot.

- Fuck off, I'm in the middle of something. - Hidan hummed, eyes still closed. They were going to be late.

- Can you really say “fuck” in a prayer?

- I'm praying for a good kill and you scold me for swearing? Nice.

- That's not what I meant. But could you just finish it in the car? - He threw their bags in the trunk of the car. He was starting to lose his patience.

- Whatever. I'm going to have to start again anyways, because someone interrupted me.

At that point Kakuzu decided not to say anything. He got in and reluctantly though, but Hidan crawled on the passenger seat too. He started his prayer again, and Kakuzu began driving. If there was one thing he was grateful about in Hidan's fucked up religion is that at least the prayers were silent. Mostly. After about twenty minutes of silence Hidan opened his eyes. He leaned back, stretching his arms.

- Finally that we got a fucking mission. It's really been a while.

- Yeah. - Kakuzu nodded.

- The Boss hates me I tell ya. That's why I hardly ever get any missions.

- Kakuzu decided to bite back his initial reply for this, and right before his silence could have been classified as awkward he could change the topic.

- So you know those guys?

- More or less. The Coppers were our buddies. They are real big on smuggling and whores, at least they were back then. Knew a chick there, always got her meth from me.

- Doesn't it feel weird, going back to them with this contract? - Kakuzu glanced over to his partner.

- Listen, they would've gladly shot me for a dime if things turned that way. And in fact, things did fucking turn that way so I don't give a shit.

- Fair enough.

Hidan sighed and rested his head against the window. They were sitting in silence for minutes. The sky was dark; tiny yellow dots indicated the neighbouring towns on the horizon.

- I wonder how things go up there nowadays.

- You miss them?

- You could say. I dunno. These kinds of people were my family for so long. As close as it can get with such people I mean, we just didn't hate each other as much. Better than nothing.

- Crime brings people together. - Kakuzu nodded.

- Yeah. Hard times but I liked it there.

- Would you like to go back?

- I couldn't, even if I wanted to. - he started fiddling with his rosary, staring out of the window blankly - And I really don't get why they turned on me. I did what they wanted, damnit.

- Trust me, I know the feeling. - Kakuzu sighed. His markings would not let him forget that even if he wanted to. – But my bet's on the money.

- Yeah, of course, I know, money's the most important thing, it makes the world go round and it's the only thing that matters, yeah, yeah. - Hidan groaned, his words soaked in the purest sarcasm.

Kakuzu didn't respond to his obvious bait, being lost deep in his thoughts. Maybe they really weren't that different after all; no wonder Hidan chose to get pulled into this disturbing borderline fanatism he calls religion. He had to keep his thoughts occupied with something. Yes, he knew this too well.

- We're almost there. - Hidan's voice pulled him back from his thoughts.

They soon reached Yugakure. It was already dark, old street lamps and buzzing neons guiding them through the streets. They parked down a few streets further; as they got out Kakuzu pulled up his hood and adjusted his vest, looking around the street. To put it mildly, it was ugly and worn; so many of the buildings in ruins, and those that were intact were covered in graffiti and piss. Nobody cared to clean the trash from the street. Hidan started talking, as if he noticed the way Kakuzu stared.

- You know, for so long this hellhole had the reputation of being the nicest, cleanest place up in the North. Really. Then about, let's say, ten years ago... - he was visibly struggling to find the right words. He touched the rosary hanging on his neck - shit happened. Man, I was a snotty lil kid but I still remember the riots. Half the city was in flames. Everything went downhills since and nobody fucking cares.

- I remember hearing it in the news once, yes.

- So yeah, that's fucking it. Welcome to Yu' I guess.

- Great. - Kakuzu sighed - Let's get going.

The streets were empty. On one balcony Kakuzu saw two girls smoking, but that's all he could say about the life he saw in the city so far. Even the street of the bar was relatively empty, a few drunk people leaning by the walls, smoking god knows what and talking about matters he was sure he should be grateful he didn't hear. He was eyeing a taller building across the bar; that roof would be just good. He pulled up his scarf higher on his face.

- Let's get to it. Find a good place. And take care.

- Fine. - Hidan waved and turned around; he decided it was time for him to cover his face too.

Kakuzu picked up his bag and took his way to the rooftop. The old exit ladder was painfully creaky, threatening to fall apart with every step. Hidan was waiting in the alley a few meters away from the bar. Kakuzu could see his lanky figure clear from the rooftop, as the blinking neon painted him in a different color with every blink. There was that particular shade of red which suited him so well. But the green wasn't bad either.

The Target should be coming out soon. He put his rifle together and waited. Every now and then a group of drunk people would come out but none fitted the description and the photographs. He was sure Hidan was already at the end of his patience.

Not an hour passed when another group of men came out. Five of them; ragged clothes, greasy hair and already shitfaced enough that none of them could walk straight. He recognized the man from the photograph, walking behind the others. He had a bottle in hand but he really looked like he would simply pass out if he had one more sip. Kakuzu leaned closer to the edge of the rooftop and waited a few seconds. One of the men looked up. Too late.

- Get ready. - Kakuzu said into his headset. He pulled the trigger.

These long seconds never failed to send chills down his spine; the shock, the gasps, the despair – the body falling on the ground, confused shouting, the disguised fear in their eyes that they will be the next, that they should try and reach for their gun---

But they can only fail.

He saw Hidan walk towards the confused group, hands tucked in his pocket. That shit-eating grin on his face would have been a reason enough for those guys to pull a weapon on him.

- What- what the fuck is happening? - a surprisingly sober voice could be heard from the small group.

- Vulture's back bitch, that's what's happening. - Hidan grinned, gun already in his hand; he looked into his eyes as he pulled the trigger.

But that boy was fast, the bullet only grazed his scalp as he jumped away. He pulled out his gun – but he didn't have the chance to use it as a bullet came flying from the left, hitting the gun out of his hand. The next bullet went for the spine. The boy fell on the ground with a heavy thud, dust flying in the air around him.

- I could've dealt with him alone! - Hidan shouted angrily; Kakuzu just smiled and reloaded. He was sure of that.

But Hidan didn't have time to be angry as another guy rushed at him, flinging a knife around wildly. Hidan was laughing loudly. He could avoid the cuts easily; the combination of alcohol and adrenaline is good for bloodthirst but not for coordination. Hidan was still having his fun nevertheless; next thing Kakuzu heard was him shooting that drunk bastard on the knee before starting to beat him up.

The gunshots didn't seem to faze the citizens and neither did the wailing of that man; Kakuzu expected turmoil and police sirens, people to be barging out of the bar to see what's happening. But nothing. The silence, save for that drunkard's screams, was disturbing – what kind of people are these, what the hell's going on, is this a trap?-, but it only made their job easier. Hidan kept on punching the guy until his face was all dark and unrecognizable – when did he put on those brass knuckles – and he kept on rambling about how he will be a fine sacrifice, he has been chosen, Jashin will appreciate him. Kakuzu sighed and looked away and tried not to listen to the rest of this speech.

There were two people left when Hidan started fighting with this one but it seems they have run away; so there are still sensible people left in this city. He wondered if they would alert anyone and he could only hope Hidan would finish his fascinating brutality soon. He started packing his stuff.

Then the body fell on the ground lifeless. Kakuzu got his bag and climbed down the ladder, rifle in his hand. Just in case. He found Hidan standing by his building, kissing his rosary yet again. Lord, they'll be caught if he starts praying here. But he was lucky, Hidan opened his eyes right as he got off the ladder.

- Man, this was too quick. They were no match. - Hidan walked up to him, wiping his hands in his once-white shirt.

- Can anyone be?

Hidan laughed out loud; his voice echoed from the dirty walls. Somewhere in the distance a dog started barking.

- But Vulture? Really? That's the lamest name I've ever heard. - Kakuzu continued.

- Fuck off. Whose prison name was Stitches anyways?

- Wow, you actually remembered something I told you?

- I was just guessing.

The streets were empty as they left. Nobody followed them, they couldn't even hear any sirens, nothing. They got to the car in safety, which Kakuzu carefully checked before getting in. Nothing. Again.

- This place is fucking weird. - Kakuzu sighed as they got in the car.

- Told ya. - Hidan laughed.

- This wasn't exactly a subtle attack and no one cared. You were there and no one fucking cared. I prepared for a bounty hunter or two, and nothing, not even the police came. Not that I mind.

-Yeah. Well, everyone is so invested in their own bullshittery that they just don't give a fuck about others.

- So I guess you are only an urban legend now at best.

- Most likely. Fuckin' great.

- I see. You want one? - he asked as he pulled out a cigarette packet out of his pocket. Hidan held his hand out immediately.

- What kinda fucking question is that?

Hidan put the cigarette between his teeth and with a smirk he leaned closer to light it with the end of Kakuzu's.

- That's pretty much the least practical way to light a cigarette. - Kakuzu rolled his eyes, but his light grin betrayed him.

- Oh shut up, you know you find it hot. - Hidan laughed, blowing out the smoke.

- You are hopeless.

And they left the city. Mission accomplished.

[writingonjorvik]

The B Team Druids - Chapter 3 - Home Cooking

It hadn’t been hard to block out Saoirse, despite not being able to block her number. That would mean a trip over to Jorvik City, and Carrie didn’t have the time. She had buried herself in her work, picking up basic riding lessons when chores around the stable were done. And if that didn’t keep her busy until the afternoon, she’d ride over to Fort Pinta to take care of the horses there.

For the first few days, it was the best feeling to go to bed exhausted, sore, and tired, to have nothing else to think about but the stiffness setting in. But then after a few days, even that couldn’t distract Carrie’s mind for long.

What had actually happened that day? Her mind tried to unscramble it all, the fall, the out of body experience, how Saoirse had saved her. Carrie drove her pitchfork in a little harder than she had to, disliking that one most of all. Saoirse had saved her life, but Saoirse was also the reason she nearly died in the first place. Was she supposed to be grateful or mad? In the end, she was just left frustrated and confused, avoiding every attempt Saoirse was making to get in contact again.

“Did the floor do something wrong?”

Carrie turned to see Justin walking in with a bale of hay over his shoulders. As the early greying young adult tossed his load into the pile, Carrie twisted the pitchfork in her hands. “Probably not.” She managed to smile briefly, one of those fake little smiles.

“Easy target though,” Justin replied, brushing his hands off against each other. Folding his arms over his chest, he asked, “Can I ask what it’s substituting for?”

After a silent stare, Carrie returned to her work. “Thought the Bobcats were the only ones who gossiped.”

“I’m concerned about the floorboards,” Justin answered with a laugh, though he kept his distance. “And anyone else who might fall victim to your pitchfork there.”

Carrie grinned a little. “You might be next.”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Justin replied, putting up his arms defensively. “Coming after the boss’s kid now. She’s fearless.” Carrie couldn’t help but to laugh at Justin’s act, still chuckling as he pressed, “Can I know what my offense was, Ms. Price?”

“If that’s your last wish.” With one more laugh, Carrie shook her head and faced Justin. Leaning on the pitchfork, she replied, “Just...God, I don’t know. I moved here thinking it was going to be the best thing that ever happened to me. Turns out people are just as fake here as they were back home.”

“I should clarify that I was pretending,” Justin said, setting a hand over his heart.

Carrie laughed again, shaking her head. “Not you.” She sighed and tossed her next statement through her head. “I dunno, I met these girls over at Fort Pinta the other day and I figured I’d give them a chance. Turned out not to have been the best choice I’ve made. And the Bobcats are, well, I don’t miss high school.”

“Homesick?” Justin asked.

“I think lonely is a better word for it,” Carrie answered, resting the pitchfork against the wall nearest her. “It’s not like I was the most popular person back States side, but...well, I can talk to my boss and you.”

Justin clutched down on her heart. “I think I should be hurt by that.”

With a mock scowl, Carrie retorted, “Yeah, you nosey twerp.”

He staggered backwards, feigning weakness in his knees. Carrie rolled her eyes, looking over at Ash. The mare appeared to have been watching them, though she turned away after Carrie faced her. There had been an awkward tension between the two since a week ago, one Carrie didn’t know what to do about. Had she scared Ash badly? Or did that thing touch Ash too?

“Going to the fort again today?” Justin asked, bringing Carrie’s attention back to him.

“That’s the plan,” Carrie answered with a shrug.

“You’re going to work yourself to death at this rate,” Justin said as Carrie started towards the tack closet.

If only you knew the half of it, Carrie thought, pulling the door open. “I’m trying to save up enough to rent a house over in Silverglade. Didn’t bring any furniture with me either, so there’s that.”

“Is there some kind of rush?”

Carrie paused in the door frame, turning back to look at Justin. He hadn’t made a move to follow her. After a moment, Justin’s face went a little red. “That sounded really bad.”

“A little,” Carrie answered, smiling back at him. “But I appreciate you care.”

“That’s what bosses’s kids are for,” Justin answered, shuffling his feet. There was a long pause before he added, “Hey, can I ask you on something that sounds like a date, but I promise isn’t?”

Snorting, Carrie shook her head. She tried not to laugh, but giggles slipped out as her lips turned up. “Um, depends on what it is.”

“Something I do to cheer myself up, and it seems like you could use some of that right now,” Justin went on, his face still red. “But offering to cook you dinner would probably sounds more romantic than I mean for it to be. Honest, I’m just trying to be a friend doing a nice thing for another friend.”

Carrie pursed her lips, thinking about his weird offer. This weird place. She had thought it would be a fantasy being here. It was more like life just going on. She shrugged. “Why not? I’ll take free food over another ramen packet any day.”

“No promises my cooking is better than a ramen packet,” Justin replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t want to keep you from working though.”

“Nah, Jenna told me to take the afternoon off anyway,” Carrie said, glancing at the pitchfork. “I was trying to keep busy doing stuff on the chore board.”

“Ouh, I didn’t realize it was this bad,” Justin said, fake concern. “Ms. Price, you’re working over hours to fight off your feelings. We need to get you some comfort food right this minute.”

She snorted she laughed so hard, following Justin off to the main building as he continued to joke with her about overworking herself. He led her to the dining hall, and started making tea for them both before he began pulling out ingredients for whatever he was cooking. Whenever Carrie offered to help, Justin would return her comments with mockingly overdramatic concern for her health. Finally, Carrie resigned to watching from a couch in the back of the dining room, sipping tea and sending glances towards the kitchen on occasion.

As Justin continued working on their meal, Carrie rocked back her head on the sofa. She studied the patterns etched into the support beams, hand painted and carved generations ago. Among them, Carrie noticed four signs; a spiral sun, a crescent moon, a four pointed star, and a lightning bolt. They felt oddly familiar. Something out of a dream, maybe.

“Hey, Justin, what’s your Sign?” she asked, wondering if it would mean something to him.

“Um, I think I was born in the year of the boar?” he answered, looking up from the counter. “Why?”

“Just something I heard the other day,” Carrie said. “Something about Signs the other day, some local religion? I’d never heard of it, so I was wondering if you knew anything about it.”

Justin paused for a moment, leaning on the counter as he thought. After a moment, he went back to work, saying, “Might have been some of the Keepers.”

“Keepers?” Carrie inquired, leaning over on the arm of the couch.

“Yeah, the Keepers of Aideen,” Justin replied. “It’s this old druidic faith that’s been around on Jorvik for ages. A lot of the more secluded villages still worship the goddess, Aideen. I don’t think it’s very popular though, about as common for people to believe in her as they would be to believe in the Norse gods or something. Well, it’s popular for tourism. We have a mound over near Fort Pinta of a very important leader who believed in Aideen, but I think the ghost sightings scared people off too much. Don’t know who it was.”

Carrie shivered. “Ghost sightings? Really? You think ghosts are real?”

“Sure, we’ve got one up at that abandoned farm house on top of the plateau,” Justin answered, his head tilting in the direction of where the cliffside farm was. “And we get a few running around every Halloween.”

“Yeah, ok,” Carrie replied, nervously. That hadn’t felt like a ghost, whatever it had been. “But these Keepers? What are they all about?”

She heard the oven open and closed before Justin walked over into the living room, typing in a timer on his phone. He pulled a chair over by the couch. “I can’t really give you specifics, to be honest. The most I know is from those personality quizzes you get on Facebook and stuff. Like ‘What’s your Jorviegian druid sign?’ Tan or Loretta would be more likely to be able to tell you.”

“But I’m asking you,” Carrie replied with a grin.

Justin sighed and rocked back in his chair. “I dunno. Um, there’s Sun, Moon, Star, and Lightning. And then the all powerful Light that they throw in for Mary Sues.”

Patting the couch beside her, Carrie pressed, “Which one are you? From these personality quizzes?”

With another exasperated huff, Justin sat down on the couch beside Carrie. “I don’t know, I think it was Star that last time I took one ten years ago, something about a kind and caring personality.”

“You sure you were being honest with your answers?” Carrie jabbed.

Justin scowled playfully back at her, shaking his head. “Rude.”

“What would I be?” Carrie asked, leaning back against the arm of the couch, balling her legs up beside her.

“Really?” Justin replied, laughing. “Carrie, I’m no good at this.”

“Oh, come on, I thought you had a kind and caring personality?” Carrie teased. “Would it help if I said I’m a Hufflepuff?”

Rocking his head back to laugh, Justin just shook his head. “I doubt you’re actually a Hufflepuff.”

“Rude, I’m so a Hufflepuff.”

“And I’m Slytherin.”

Carrie punched Justin’s shoulder, or wound up to. The swing ended up not being very hard when it landed. Drawing her arm back, she tilted her head a bit. “Please.”

“I guess if I’m under the threat of force,” Justin answered, jokingly rubbing his shoulder. He shrugged. “Moon, maybe.”

“And what does that mean?” Carrie asked, leaning forward.

“You’re smart.”

Carrie blushed, looking away. She smiled weakly, brushing her hair back behind her ear. “Oh. Thanks.”

An awkward silence fell over them both. Carrie twisted her legs closer to her and further from Justin on the couch. She pulled out her phone, idly playing a mobile game instead of continuing the conversation with Justin. He seemed content to do the same on his own.

After a while, the smell of ground beef and cooked tomatoes filled the dining room. Carrie took a big whiff of the smell, the medley of herbs blended in, most prominently basil. “God, that smells great. What are you making?”

“My mom’s lasagna,” Justin answered, pulling up his timer again. Another ten minutes were left, but he stood up and walked back into the kitchen. “It’s the only recipe of hers I’ve been able to make. I’ve been making it a lot lately. Helps me feel better, work through things.”

For all the time Carrie had been here, she hadn’t heard a single word about a Mrs. Moorland. But from the way things sounds, she had been gone for a long time. Had Justin ever made it with her?

“I’m-- Sorry,” Carrie muttered. He probably didn’t want her sympathy for a woman he had never known to lose. She tried to smile instead. “I didn’t know it was a family recipe.”

“Which is why you can’t help,” Justin stated, smirking from beside the oven. Still, there was a part of his voice that was tender, recalling someone, or making a memory where one never had grown.

“Worried I’ll run away with it?” Carrie asked, attempting to joke. Fairly heavy subject she was wading around now. It certainly made hers feel less serious. Dead parents not the best subject for the first not a date.

Justin smiled. “Maybe. Have to see what you’ve gotta say after you’ve tried it.”

Carrie got up from the couch and started pulling out plates as Justin waited by the stove. She handed him an oven mitt as she searched for silverware among the drawers. Justin pointed to it just as his timer started going off, a wave of heat flooding the kitchen as he pulled out the baking stone.

“Smells good,” Carrie said as Justin set the dish down on the counter.

“Glad I got that much right,” Justin replied with a laugh. “The first three burned.”

“Oh, God, that must have been fun clearing out of here.” Carrie laughed, waving her hand in front of her nose. “If it makes you feel any better, I burnt my dad’s cake the first time I helped with his birthday dinner.”

“How do you burn a cake?” Justin asked.

“How do you burn a lasagna?”

Justin paused, his mouth open to respond, but he didn’t. After a moment, he nodded. “Touche.”

As Justin served the two of them, Carrie fished out a pair of glasses. She set the cups down just as Justin finished plating. Justin shifted back a step, running a hand over his neck. “I don’t actually think you’re going to run away with the recipe.”

Carrie sat down, dragging a plate over to her. “I’ve knocked him off guard, perfect.”

Shaking his head, Justin took his own plate, falling quiet as he ate. Carrie found a similar silence washing over her. It was really good lasagna. Not the world’s best, but definitely up there in best lasagnas she had had. Definitely worthy of not talking through eating it.

“Who is Aideen though?” Carrie asked, stopping herself from licking the plate clean with the question.

“Some kind of ancient goddess, I don’t know,” Justin replied, shoveling the last bite of his own lasagna into his mouth. He swallowed. “You could go ask Conrad. Pretty sure he believes in that stuff. He doesn’t mind a conversation if you’re over there, and he’ll know more than me.”

“Talking to people is so difficult though,” Carrie joked, laughing a little.

“Yeah, people are terrible,” Justin said, rolling his eyes.

Carrie fanned her fingers out as she pressed back in her seat. “The worst.” She looked around the room as she scooped up her plate. “Most of them, anyway.”

“Any exceptions you can think of?” Justin asked as Carrie walked over to the rest of the lasagna.

“Definitely not you,” Carrie corrected, turning around with a wink. Justin slid down in his chair, again feigning defeat. As she walked back, Carrie went on, “I’m kidding. Thank you, for this not a date.” Justin laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. Carrie blushed a little, stabbing her fork into the lasagna. “It definitely helped.”

A soft smile crossed Justin’s face. “I’m glad.”

That moment hung between them. Stillness moved around them, freezing the air in a perfect second. Carrie tore her eyes away, forcing herself to take a bite of her meal to break the tension. Justin coughed as he turned towards the window. Still, something giddy bubbled in Carrie’s stomach, something she cringed a little to feel. What a cliche high school feeling.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Justin Moorland.”

Carrie’s face went a hard red. She bent her head down, trying to burn through the embarrassment. Who had wandered into her and Justin having a very-- having lunch? God, she couldn’t stand the rumors that would crop up from this. Or the hell it would raise with Loretta. Oh, God, Loretta wasn’t going to let her live this down, would she? Carrie was basically a dead woman walking out of here now. How ironic to survive this week and die today--

“Hi, can I help you?” Justin asked, leaning passed Carrie. She was comforted to see his face was a little pink as well.

Managing to collect herself, Carrie turned to face their intruder. They were dressed too nicely for Moorland in that bright red dressage coat. Their black hair appeared to have been frazzled from a frantic horse ride, though they smoothed out the loose strands back into their bun.

Taking confident strides forward, the rider approached their table, ignoring Carrie entirely. “My name is Sabine. I am an co-worker of your grandfather. He would like for you to come visit him. I sent you a letter earlier about him wishing to see you.”

“I didn’t know Grandpa Jasper had any co-workers?” Justin replied, confused. Faking confusion. Carrie and Justin’s eye met as she noticed that. Why would he be faking it? “I think you might have--”

“Your paternal grandfather,” Sabine interjected, pulling out an envelope from her coat. “Sorry my letter was lost in transit, I should have trusted the postal service with it. Mr. Sands was married to Baroness Silverglade, though they parted ways on...less than ideal conditions. He would like to repair that relationship your father and grandmother kept from you, if you are willing to visit him.”

Justin took the envelope from Sabine, opening it and reading over the letter. Carrie turned towards Sabine. “Couldn’t he have just called?”

“Mr. Sands is a very busy man,” Sabine answered. When Carrie gave her a skeptical look, Sabine added, “He’s the CEO of Dark Core.”

“And my uncle works at Nintendo,” Carrie answered, folding her arms. She turned towards Justin. “This doesn’t sound a little fishy to you?”

“I need a minute,” Justin murmured, getting up from the table. He walked over to the couch, letter still in hand. Carrie watched him rereading it as he sat down again, a concerned look on his face.

Sabine started to follow him. “I don’t have a minute. My barge leaves for the Dark Core platform in twenty minutes. Either you’re on that ship or you’re not. I expected you to have an answer already. Now I need you to make a decision.”

Carrie watched as Justin’s expression knotted further and further. She had no idea what was on his mind, but she could tell he needed more than twenty minutes to process this. That confusion he was faking, the expression on his face now, Carrie could tell Justin was struggling with this choice. Given a timer now to make this choice-- Carrie walked over to Sabine, asking softly, “You really from Dark Core?”

Turning around, Sabine scowled at Carrie. “Yes.”

“Can you prove it?” Carrie asked.

Sabine kept her brows down, but pulled out an ID from her pocket. Carrie looked over the little plastic Dark Core card. She hadn’t heard the best things about the company, but at least Sabine wasn’t lying. Carrie tilted her head towards Justin. “You’re really sudden, and this sounds like pretty big news that you gave him. Give me a minute to try for you?”

The rider’s brows softened. “I have twenty minutes.” With that, she marched off.

Carrie shook her head, not sure why she wanted to help such a-- This was about Justin, not her. She walked over to the couch, sitting down beside Justin. She looked at the letter, though forced herself to stop after a moment. Not her place to read it. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know what to do,” Justin murmured. “My dad always said his dad was the worst, when he would even talk about it. I grew up thinking the guy was some kind of monster.”

“There’s a but coming up, huh?” Carrie pushed, leaning back on the couch.

“He wants to try having a fresh start, with everyone,” Justin stated, showing Carrie the letter. Carrie skimmed the line where Justin’s finger was. “But he thinks I’m the only one would give him an attempt at it. Considering I just gave my other grandfather another chance, maybe that’s only fair of me to try.”

“Why not visit him then?” Carrie asked. “You’ve got a ride all lined up.”

Justin folded the letter over his leg. “And what if he is a monster, like everyone said? I’d probably be stuck on that platform with him until someone could come get me off.”

“Or he’s actually a good guy?” Carrie offered, though the statement felt oily on her tongue. This was the CEO of Dark Core they were talking about. She hadn’t heard anything good about that company since she had gotten here. Then again, she hadn’t seen them doing anything wrong, unlike the G.E.D. workers in the area.

“And everyone I know has lied about him?” Justin replied, somewhat defeated.

“People can change?” Carrie shrugged, falling back on the couch. “Seems like you’ve written this off. Why not just stay?”

Justin twitched his lips, turning away. “This is the second letter I’ve gotten from my grandfather about visiting him.” He turned his head up towards the support beams and the little carvings Carrie had noticed in the boards. “And she would have wanted me to try. I know she would have.”

A guilty growl ran through Carrie’s stomach. Of course, the dead, kind mother would have wanted him to, not that either of them would be able to prove that. Carrie took a deep breath. “Look, this is totally shady, I get it. But Sabine is at least who she says she is. She works for Dark Core, and as sketchy as the company may be, that doesn’t mean the employees are all the worst. So maybe your grandpa is just part of a shady board, or Dark Core just gets a bad rap. Also, that’s a handwritten letter, apparently one of two. You’ve gotta mean something to him for him to take the time to write those and then send a lackey to come get you for a visit. Again, twice on the personal deliveries.”

“It’s just so weird,” Justin said.

“Weird! Justin, the first day I was here we drove over the largest stone bridge probably in existence like it was normal. The person in charge of Fort Pinta is a 12 year old. There’s a religious sect who ran off with your last stable hand,” Carrie exclaimed. “And then I got asked on not a date by this big doofus today!”

Justin laughed, the beginning of a smile cracking through. “Doofus?”

“Yeah, doofus,” Carrie replied, playfully smacking Justin over the back of his head. “Look, life’s weird. This place is weirder. But sometimes when you try weird things you get to eat lasagna with a really--” Carrie bit down on her lip, a flustered expression on her face. “A really nice guy,” she corrected. She shook her head. “You should try. I think you’ll feel better if you do. You can call if anything goes wrong and I’ll call the cops.”

“Really?” Justin pressed.

“Really,” Carrie stated emphatically.

Squeezing the letter, Justin nodded. “Thank you, Carrie. I really appreciate it.”

Carrie shrugged. “I’m just trying to be a friend doing a nice thing for another friend.” She squeezed his hand, sincerely believing that statement. And praying this would go well. “Go catch that boat.”

[themurphyzone]

All Time Travelers Go to Heaven Ch 13

Oh hey it’s the number 13! The unlucky number! Also, some religion. 

Uploading this so it’ll be Friday the Thirteenth on Eastern Standard Time (US). Everyone else can enjoy the chapter a few hours earlier or later depending on your time zone!!!

Ch 13- Sanctuary

“It would be less obvious to take you to the Murphys’ church rather than going directly to their home,” Brick explained as the limo pulled into the downtown area. “Savannah and I determined through careful observation that Brigette Murphy regularly visits the church by herself while her husband and daughter are at work and school. Luckily for you, today would be one of those times.” 

Milo’s eyes were fixed on the aquarium in the backseat. “I can’t believe I get to meet my mom,” he murmured. “You think she’ll look like me?” 

Vinnie ruffled his hair. “Maybe. Or you could take after your dad. Who knows?” 

Balthazar barely paid attention as Brick rattled off details of the Murphy family. Something about a safety inspector, an architect, and a comic book store. 

If this was indeed Milo’s biological family, they at least had a steady income. He could have a sister. He would be able to go to school like any other child. 

So why did he feel as though he was abandoning Milo? Due to circumstances beyond their control, the Murphys had missed out when Milo chose his name, his first time purchasing clothes he liked, or seen the laughter when Milo touched a horse for the first time. 

It hadn’t been a week, and he was already fond of Milo. No wonder emotional attachments were highly discouraged for agents. It made it hard to think properly. 

But it was for the best. 

And he wished he could convince himself that. 

The limo pulled up to the steps of the Danville Catholic Church, the steeple towering high over the other buildings. A stained glass window of a dove was set above the heavy wooden doors. 

He and Vinnie had passed by the church several times back when they were still lowly pistachio sellers. Now that he had to go inside, it was starting to look more ominous by the minute. Churches just didn’t agree with him. Not after the blackout he had in the Puritan era. 

“Before you leave, there’s one more thing I must ask you to do,” Brick said sternly as they exited the limo. “You will not reveal to Brigette Murphy that Milo is her son on the grounds of the church. That information is best reserved for a private conversation.”

The limo sped off, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. 

“We’d better get inside before anyone sees us,” Balthazar said. He placed his hands behind his back, his fingers twitching to clutch the watch. The habit was spiraling out of control. 

In a matter of minutes, the tub of holy water burst, a candle claimed a painting of the Last Supper, and four crosses had splintered. 

“Echo!” Milo shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls. “Hello! Salsa!”

Balthazar sat down in one of the front rows, ignoring the oily water that was covering the back area of the church. He rested his head on the pew in front of him, the watch trembling under his shirt. 

Vinnie rested a hand on his back. “Maybe you oughta lie down.”

You can never come back.

“Dakota,” Balthazar gasped. “I think...I think it’s happening again.” 

The ticking was the only thing he could think about. It filled his mind, the hands beating without end. 

“Try and fight it,” Vinnie urged quietly. His grip tightened on Balthazar’s hands. 

A swift end will come to those who reject heaven. You cannot fight it. 

He couldn’t.

He just couldn’t....

Balthazar’s vision darkened, and the collar of Vinnie’s shirt was the last thing he felt as the accusatory voices took hold, dragging him away to some unknown, lonely place. 

Heavy metal chains and locks bolted him to the chair, its monstrous four legs parading him through the flames while horrible, grotesque demons cackled and jeered. 

They prodded his face with sharp sticks. 

They grabbed the chains and forcefully yanked in every direction, forcing him to gasp for the heavy, stuffy air that made it almost impossible to breathe. 

They appeared out of nowhere, their faces melding with the brimstone walls, fangs bared in horrible toothy grins as they delighted and reveled in his humiliation. 

The chair ground to a halt at the end of the long hallway. 

“GUILTY,” a chorus of voices proclaimed. 

Balthazar couldn’t speak. Only a hoarse cry came out, his desperate plea falling on indifferent ears. 

“GUILTY! GUILTY! GUILTY!”

A wall crumbled away, and a clawed, red hand reached through to drag him to his punishment....

And a spray of cold water hit his face. 

Balthazar’s eyes flew open, and he groaned as another wave of mist hit them. “Was that necessary?” he complained. He tried to sit up, only for his chest to feel like it was on fire. He grimaced in pain. 

Vinnie set the spray bottle down, throwing a wad of slightly damp paper towels at him. “Your watch was burning you,” he said. “I tried taking it off, but you were thrashing around so much and screaming when I barely touched the strap so...yeah. And I needed to cool the watch down.” 

The watch had burned him? He gingerly unbuttoned his dress shirt, carefully peeling the rather warm watch away from his skin. Sure enough, there was a red circular imprint where the watch had been. 

He dabbed the area with a damp paper towel, wincing as the edge brushed the sensitive area. 

“It’s not too deep,” Vinnie sighed. “And don’t worry about Milo. I sent him out to get paper towels before your episode hit its high point.”

Balthazar looked away. “He’s seen me have one before.”

Milo had survived countless unethical experiments. Surely he would be able to handle a caretaker who occasionally hallucinated eternal damnation. 

However, he knew Vinnie would disagree if he said it out loud. 

“Not one as bad as this,” Vinnie murmured. “He handled it a lot better than me the first time. I had to make it up to you. I was so mad at you after the first time. I shouldn’t have gotten that mad. But no, past me just can’t seem to be there when you need it.” 

Balthazar sat up, ignoring the pain in his chest. He lifted Vinnie’s chin up so they could look each other in the eyes with no hesitation. “We had this conversation earlier,” he said sternly. “You’re not to blame and I will not allow you to leave this room until you see that. Understand?”  

“You mean it?” Vinnie asked. There was something odd about his hesitance now. It shifted to another place. 

But where? 

If he wanted Balthazar to answer, then he shouldn’t have been leaning in that closely.

He chose to ignore it, nodding. “Absolutely.” 

A door slammed against the wall, and Balthazar jumped, quickly buttoning his shirt up before Milo could see the burn on his chest. He would have to get some ointment for that later. 

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to bang it that hard!” Milo exclaimed, not noticing that he was covered head to toe in paper towels. He rushed over, dumping two rolls next to Balthazar. “I guess I kind of took a while, huh? You’re alright now?” 

Vinnie shook his head. “Nah, your timing’s fine.” 

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” Balthazar said, hoping to wave away his concern. 

Milo still didn’t look convinced. “You weren’t fine. You were clinging to Mr. Dakota and shouting,” he said. 

Why did his companions feel the need to restate previous conversations? He was getting tired of repeating himself. 

“You got paper towels all over you, kid. Did the dispenser vomit on you or something?” Vinnie chuckled as he discarded all the loose towels from Milo’s head. 

“No,” Milo said, still looking concerned. He was expecting an answer. 

Balthazar was glad Vinnie had switched to another topic so rapidly. It was wise to avoid another long, draining argument. 

Especially when the other party was a boy who was all smiles even when life handed him the short end of the stick. He couldn’t begin to imagine a Milo unwilling to speak with him. 

“-so then she said she’d put in a request at the church office to clean up the water before weekend service. She was really nice about it too. It was funny, she said the office was used to her requests anyway,” Milo explained, his concern replaced by excitement. “Oh, and she’s coming by the chapel, so if we stay long enough, you guys can meet her!” 

“We aren’t going anywhere,” Balthazar reminded him. “We’re on a lookout for Brigette Murphy, remember?”

“Brigette?” Milo gasped, jumping back in surprise. “You mean-”

“Wait, that woman you were describing, did you happen to get her name?” Balthazar asked. Brick and Savannah had left out any physical features, nor did they have a picture, so dumb luck was all they had in picking her out from all the other church patrons.  

Milo nodded, grinning. “I found Brigette! I found-oh my gosh, I found my mom! I dunno, I don’t think I look like her though. And she doesn’t seem like the abandoning type. She’s really nice.” 

“This is great, Milo! I love a good coincidence, isn’t that right, Balthy?” Vinnie grinned and elbowed him. 

“Right,” Balthazar said. “Milo, I know this is exciting for you, but we cannot reveal your biological relationship to her just yet. It should wait for a more opportune time.”

Not even that warning could deter Milo. He was sure the boy wouldn’t slip up, but he also wore his heart on his sleeve. 

And Balthazar wanted to meet Brigette and her family first before entrusting Milo to them. Based on Brick’s observations, they were likely good people.

As far as Milo knew, his family abandoned him. Yet he was still excited to meet them. 

He didn’t know how to be suspicious. 

“I never caught your name, you know,” someone said. They glanced over to a side door, and a woman with short, dark blonde hair waved at them. “Hello, you must be his guardians.” 

“My name’s Milo!” he exclaimed. “This is Mr. Dakota, and next to him is Mr. Cavendish!” 

Vinnie waved at her. “You don’t have to include the mister part for us, don’t worry.”

“Is your name Brigette by any chance?” Balthazar asked. “Apparently you and Milo had a fascinating conversation.” 

Brigette smiled, shaking hands with Balthazar and Vinnie. “Yes, I’m Brigette. Nice to meet you. And it was no problem, I was just helping out. The church office has a separate box for my husband. It was easy to stick in a cleanup note along with a half dozen other repair jobs.”

As she spoke, her gaze lingered on Milo. “Are you all right?” he asked. 

Brigette nodded. “I’m fine. Your cowlick just reminded me of someone, that’s all. Don’t mind me.” Her voice wavered slightly. “Would you three like to join my family for dinner? It’s been a while since we had guests.”

Vinnie nodded eagerly. “Yes! Thanks so much! Come on you two, it’ll be fun!”  

Balthazar rolled his eyes. “Of course you wouldn’t turn down a free meal.” 

“Where else are we supposed to get one?” Vinnie asked. 

But he was right. And Balthazar certainly wasn’t wasting this opportunity. 

“We’ll be happy to accept,” Balthazar said. 

Milo smiled. “Are you a good cook?”

“I think so. It’s not really one of my main talents though. That honor goes to being an architect,” Brigette admitted. “But someone’s gotta do it, right?” 

“Tell me about it,” Vinnie muttered. “Last time Balthy cooked, he wouldn’t leave me alone because he couldn’t tell when the noodles for spaghetti were ready.” 

Well, excuse him for not wanting to throw it at the refrigerator as Vinnie instructed. He didn’t want to clean carbohydrates and water off the surface, thank you. 

“Well, let me give you my address so you can come over later,” Brigette said, reaching into her purse. 

She didn’t realize they had no means of transportation other than walking. He supposed he could call a taxi, but he’d rather save the dwindling wad of cash they had for food or other emergencies. 

And it would be easy for an agent to pose as a driver. It was far too risky.

“Ma’am, while I appreciate the gesture, we don’t have a way of getting to your home,” Balthazar said. “You see, we became homeless recently and we can’t even afford gas.” 

It was technically true, even if he did oversimplify the situation. 

“Oh,” Brigette said, her gaze softening. “Then why don’t I give you a lift? There’s plenty of room in my car. It’s no trouble.”

“That sounds great,” Vinnie said. 

“I’m sure Martin and Sara would love to meet all of you,” Brigette smiled. But there was something...sad about it. At first Balthazar thought it was because he mentioned being homeless, but then she reached towards Milo, as if she wanted a closer look at his face. She thought better of it, pulling away. “Do you mind if I go pray for a few minutes? I’m sorry, it’s something I’ve done for years. Ever since one of...since one of my children died shortly after birth.” 

She rushed off to the opposite side, quickly kneeling on a bench in front of a statue of Mary, her head bowed in prayer. 

Milo gripped Balthazar’s arm. “Do you think I have another sibling?” he whispered, his eyes wide. 

“I’m not sure,” Balthazar admitted. “But you were certainly not abandoned.”

His theory was that someone from the Bureau had lied to Brigette and her family about her son dying after birth.

Savannah and Brick likely never realized that aspect of the story. It hadn’t been in the file they’d given him that contained all the background information on Milo. They only looked at facts and consequences, but never the hurricane of emotions that followed. 

Vinnie pulled Milo close to him, stroking his hair soothingly. “It’s complicated, huh?” 

Milo nodded silently, curling into a ball on the pew. His head rested on Vinnie’s leg. Balthazar inched closer so that his side touched Milo. He really wasn’t sure what he could say, so he hoped a tiny amount of physical contact was enough to reassure him. 

Brigette’s back was turned to them, but it didn’t escape Balthazar’s notice that she reached up and touched the baby in Mary’s arms. 

[friendshipcampaign]

Magic Words

Some downtime with Rooster and Ditto! Rooster learns Find Familiar.

(If there’s anything Ditto says about the nature of magic and the universe that doesn’t line up with what the DM has in mind, she’s just wrong. She read it in a book somewhere.)

Rooster sat near the edge of the cave as everyone else fussed over Erwyn and Voski. She might have been doing the same, but after the tension of the ritual she felt restless, and moved away from the others to try and burn some energy. She rubbed her hands together and paced around. She tried checking her sword for damage at some point but couldn’t keep her concentration, and was soon back up and pacing.

She eventually found herself observing her companions in the cave. Erwyn and Voski were   asleep, the Lady Coila and the others they had rescued seemed content to chat with the Lily White Girls and keep to themselves, and Kriv and Amaranth were outside talking; but she didn't see Ditto.

Since her bedroll had been confiscated along with the rest of her possessions, Ditto had found a spot in the pile made by the others' discarded bags where she could comfortably curl up. She'd also helped herself to a piece of Stelly's flatbread and a piece of jerky that had been left in easy snatching distance...she'd assumed no one would mind, and besides, she hadn't eaten anything since Rooster slipped the half-a-pie that nice girl had given her into her backpack.

Rooster continued to scan the cave and see if she could find Ditto. Her eyes landed on pile of their belongings, and she saw Ditto there eating. Rooster imagined she must have been hungry after constantly keeping up a spell for several hours and then being arrested. She winced slightly at that thought, Ditto might have avoided that If Rooster had returned as she said.

Rooster decided to walk over and chat with Ditto, and quickly sat down beside her in the pack nest. "You doing all right Ditto?"

"Hmm?" Ditto glanced up as Rooster approached, then gave her a smile. "Oh, I'm fine. I mean, I'm great, obviously, because Erwyn's back!"

It wasn’t a lie. She knew what Rooster was probably referring to. She hadn’t forgotten everything she’d done. All that she’d left in the castle, or what it all meant. But she wasn’t ready to think about that, not yet.

All she could think of now was the fact that against all odds, in defiance of the laws of nature and probably a few local ordinances of time and space, Voski had brought Erwyn back. Ditto could still hear the harmonics in her mind. They were beautiful. And they were unearthly, as they ought to be. Watching Voski perform the ritual was one of the most beautiful, terrifying things she had ever witnessed, and it had given Erwyn his life back.

Sister Calma had told Ditto she wasn’t a person of faith. Ditto wasn’t really sure how she felt about religion, but she was sure how she felt about what she had just seen.

"It's really kind of hitting me, you know, because I kept saying 'oh, he's not really dead. He's just stuck in a ring, we're going to fix it' because I didn't want to think about what would happen if we couldn't. But now that he's back, it's sinking in again...he gets a second chance."

Rooster chose not to directly address Ditto's rambling about what happened to Erwyn. She imagined Ditto wasn't as used to her friends dying as she or other mercenaries were, and she didn't want to drag that out. Though she would admit, it was strange getting a dead companion back. Not bad certainly, but it wasn’t something she would have expected before now.

"We could talk about something else if you want?" Rooster laughed a little and glanced at Rose. "For instance, how unseasonably cold it has been this year!"

"I know you're talking about Rose, but how could you even tell?” Ditto cocked her head at Rooster. "It's not like any of us know what Soreth's usually like."

"I suppose that's true, but it does ruin the joke a little." Rooster answered. She was silent for a bit, and decided to look into her pack to see what rations she had.

She pulled out some dried fruit and offered a little to Ditto, "What do you usually talk about when the matters at hand are awful?"

"Umm..."

Ditto balked at the question, at a loss for words.  After a moment she reached out and took the fruit.

"Bugs...mice…” she thought, trying to remember the conversations she’d had over the years. “Web-spinning? I dunno. Usually the only person I'm talking to is TikTik, and they don't read, so it's a lot of practical stuff?"

"TikTik is your familiar right? You make them with magic."

"Well, I don't exactly make them, but yeah. They've been my familiar for about...." She paused, trying to count back the decades in her head. They blurred together, and coming up with specifics seemed hard. She shrugged. "A bunch of years."

Rooster laughed a little "I imagine it's hard to keep up when you live as long as you do." She idly fiddled with the rope on her pack, "It must be nice though. Having a friend that you can always call on."

Ditto smiled, looking over her shoulder at the hawk perched comfortably on a branch Ditto had dragged into the cave and wedged under a rock for that purpose. Their head was tucked under their wing, and they seemed to be dozing.

"Yeah. It's pretty great."

"Can you teach me?"

Ditto’s head snapped back towards Rooster, surprised. She wasn’t certain she’d heard right.

"...Teach you?"

"I'm not the smartest but I still like to learn," Rooster looked away, suddenly a bit uncomfortable.  "And anyway, having someone to call on when you're all alone with your thoughts. . . It'd be nice."

It seemed too good to be true, but here it was. Ditto covered her mouth with her hands as a wide, excited grin slowly spread across it.

"You...want me...to teach you a spell?"

"Yeah, I guess I do," Rooster looked back, not being able to resist a smile on seeing Ditto's own. "It'd be fun to have a spell that doesn't make people explode."

"I mean, yeah!” Ditto laughed, “Yeah, I could do that! I'm not doing anything else! Let's start now!"

In one motion, she stood and stuffed the remainder of the bread and fruit into her mouth. She chewed vigorously, washing it down with a gulp from a nearby canteen.

"Okay! So!" She took a deep breath, composing herself a little better. "...I guess you kind of already answered this question, but I think I should ask anyway, just so you can answer for yourself." Ditto looked at Rooster, schooling her face in a serious expression, trying to look teacherly. "...Why do you want to have a familiar?"

Rooster looked down and thought seriously about it, "I suppose I’d like a companion, someone I can call on who I can trust, and who can help without me worrying about them getting arrested or worse." She rubbed her hand through her hair, and mumbled, "Damn  it sounds like I'm talking to a matchmaker. Maybe I should mention long walks on the pier."

Ditto laughed. "No! That's a great reason! Really, it is! See...I can teach you the spell itself. The gestures and the words and all that, and you'll probably pick it up quick, it's not one of the harder ones. But the first time you cast it will be different from every other time."

She waved her hands and made the image of a hawk appear in them.

“Normally all you're doing is making a magical body for your familiar to inhabit. But the first time you cast it...you have to call a familiar down. And that's...well, it's not just casting a spell. It's starting a relationship."

"Ok" Rooster nodded, "Where am I calling it from?"

"The Ethereal Plane! See, there's these..." she paused, frowning. "Spirits? Creatures? It's like... everyone's got some innate magic in them, right? I mean, I was able to make bugs and butterflies appear before I ever learned my first spell--"

Ditto waved her hand, making a few illusory fireflies appear in the air, to demonstrate.

"And Amaranth's not really big on magic but she can still do that--" she held her hands out and wiggled her fingers "FWOOOSH, fire thing. And--" she tilted her head and gestured to Rooster, "Humans probably got something like that too, right?"

"Uhhh, no, Not really." Rooster said, "I think I remember an elven tutor saying that the only thing remarkable about humans is that there is nothing remarkable about us."

Ditto made a face. "Wow, he sounds like a jerk." Sounded a little like a jerk she’d known, to be honest.

Rooster laughed, "Don't worry, I paid him back with a few lizards down his pants."

"Ha! Good! Get 'im!" Ditto smiled. "Well, anyway, when you practice magic you can make that little flame of power bigger. But even the most powerful wizard you're likely to meet in your lifetime is only gonna be, say, eight percent magic and ninety-two percent meat. A little goes a long way, you get me?"

“Yeah I think so," Rooster said, " it's like striking with a sword right? You don't put everything into the swing, just a little twist of the wrist."

"Probably!" Ditto shrugged. She was pretty sure she had lifted a sword once. To hand to someone else. That about summed up her experience with the weapon. "But when you call down a familiar, you're reaching into a place that's...all magic. And you're making...I guess, an offer? I'd call it a contract, except the creatures there don't really do words like we do?"

She shrugged again. Words were hard sometimes with magic stuff in general.

"Basically you're giving the magic in that plane a chance to do something it doesn't normally get to do...be a person. Be someone with a name, and words, and a body that can exist in the material plane, and...I guess a purpose?” She scratched her head. “TikTik said that once, but they kind of rolled their eyes at the 'purpose' part, and I never knew whether it was sarcasm or not."

"So, you’re sort of offering them a chance to try a new existence?"

"Yeah! And in exchange for that, they must magically bind themselves to you. So they’ll come when you call, and leave when you dismiss them." Ditto's face turned serious. "And they will do anything you tell them to...even if you tell them to walk into a fire and burn."

She paused, glancing back at TikTik again, her brow furrowed.

"....Which I always thought was such a terrifying leap of faith to take with someone you don't even know yet. But I guess the appeal of being a living, physical being is just...good enough that some of them risk it."

Rooster winced at the idea of someone forcing a familiar to kill itself, "I suppose so."

Ditto took note of her reaction and nodded sympathetically. "...So you can see what a big responsibility it is. Having that much power over another person."

"Yes," Rooster said.

"...Now, if a familiar's body dies, the familiar will be okay. They'll go back to the ethereal plane and be ready if you call them again. ...But they can still feel pain, and fear. So you can't take their lives lightly." Ditto smiles. "...Really, though, I'm not worried about that. Not from you."

Rooster smiled a little.

"Sooooo," she said, "How do we begin?"

"The first step is making a call...I'll help you with that part. Then, when you feel something answer it, you give it a name. That will complete the part of the spell that binds your familiar to you. A lot of people want a pet, so they give their familiars pet names like midnight and smoke and blueberry." Ditto frowned. "Some of them want a slave, and so they just call them Familiar, or Creature. Whatever name you choose, it'll be the gesture you make in saying what kind of relationship you want with your familiar."

"Hmmm." Rooster pursed her lips and looked down, "One time when I was visiting my cousin, there was a young apprentice who tried summoning a beast. A duck rabbit came to his call, so he just abandoned the poor thing. It was scared and lost, so I took it in and I named it "Champion", because I thought that would help it feel brave."

She looked back at Ditto, "Would that be a good name?"

With Rooster sitting and Ditto standing, the two were nearly face to face. Ditto approached Rooster and squeezed her shoulder.

"I think that sounds like a name for a friend that you're going to take good care of."

Rooster smiled. "Let's meet our champion, then."

[murasaki-murasame]

Danganronpa V3 Liveblog Part 5 [Chapter 2 - Daily Life]

Thoughts under the cut.

I knew I said before that I expected Ryoma to die, but I’m kinda sad that it happened so soon. Though in hindsight it makes sense, since he got a lot of focus up to this point. Honestly I was bracing myself for it to be Kaito, since basically everything about him in this chapter thus far feels like death flags galore. It’s kinda the main reason why I’m immediately suspecting him to be the killer, even though it doesn’t really make sense in terms of his personality and his whole attitude about the killing game.

Before I say anything else, I just wanna say that this whole part nearly took me five hours and to be honest I think about an hour of that was probably me just doing stuff at the new casino the game opened up. It’s kinda addictive. I at least got some new skills out of it. Mainly the ones that max out my influence and focus, which will be appreciated in the next trial. I got closer to losing the first trial than I was expecting, so any extra bit helps. I think I got one or two other ones, but I can’t remember. I at least didn’t have any room to equip anything other than the first two. In addition to the skills I had previously, that is.

If I keep using the casino, I think I’ll probably just work toward getting skills and stuff, before getting any cosmetics. We’ll see. The casino is surprisingly fun, so I might do a session of it once per chapter.

Anyway, moving onto this chapter’s story itself, I like it a lot thus far. Though before I forget, I just want to say that that beginning scene is super incredibly suspicious, and makes me feel like we might even be setting up for some kind of ‘they’re all in purgatory’ twist or something. Who knows. My guess as to what this game’s overarching story is going to be in the end kinda got thrown off in general in this part, mostly with how the game decided to spell out at least part of the whole Ultimate Hunt thing. Thus far it’s as I suspected, more or less. There was some sort of social push against the Ultimates that lead to all this. I wasn’t expecting them to already explain the whole thing of everyone being hooked up to machines, though. So they all decided to voluntarily wipe their memories in order to avoid prosecution. I vaguely remember that in the ‘first loop’ before the game properly began, nobody knew they even had talents, so that makes sense. I can’t help but be suspicious of all this since we’re being told it so early in the game. Especially since they’re being really vague on the details, and so many little parts of the game keep alluding to the idea that none of this is real somehow. The whole ‘I want to die with everyone’ line also makes me lean toward this being some sorta purgatory, but that feels almost too obvious.

The transition into Shuichi being the new protagonist is going pretty well. I still really like him as a character, especially with the character development he’s undergoing. I like that he’s still understandably depressed about things, but is still moving forward in his own small ways. I feel like his design is sort of incomplete without his hat, but I appreciate the idea behind him abandoning it.

His new-found friendship with Kaito is also a big reason why I like how this is going. It just feels kinda refreshing and unique to have another character be the more pushy, outgoing one who sees the protagonist as their sidekick. I really hope that Kaito can at least survive past this chapter, so that we can see this dynamic play out for a good while. It’d also feel a little . . . predictable and depressing if Shuichi goes from trusting one person who immediately dies to trusting ANOTHER person who immediately dies. We’ll see.

I liked Kaito before, but this chapter’s making me really like him, especially since I got to do his first free time event [it was the only one I did, since my other two were spent unsuccessfully talking to Kaito, and unsuccessfully talking to Keebo]. He’s just a really good dude, even if he doesn’t go about everything well. But he’s still trying to keep everyone happy and confident, especially Shuichi. At least someone’s trying to reach out to him. I already kinda ship them. It was also a good thing I did his first free time event, since it helps establish how hard-working and educated he is. Which we kinda knew before, but this helped contextualize it a bit.

I should probably just keep talking about the characters before I get into stuff with the motive and murder and my vague preliminary speculation.

To be honest, I still don’t know if I like Kokichi that much. He’s definitely a good character, and he’s really central to the group dynamic and whatnot, but I just can’t help but be kinda annoyed at his chronic lying and overall attitude. I’m aware that it’s probably covering up some kind of tragic backstory, but still. I’m pretty sure that he’s a fan favourite, considering how many twitter/tumblr icons I’ve seen of him, but he hasn’t fully warmed on me yet. I don’t exactly hate him, I just think he’s a bit annoying. He’s also really creepy at times in ways that I was not expecting. On top of that one goddamn disturbing expression from the last trial, I think he did a variation of it with a creepy black/white filter, so that was kinda terrifying. Not to mention that part where we get a really zoomed-in close-up CG of his face when Shuichi wakes up in Gonta’s lab. Though while I’m talking about him, I just wanna say that even though it’s unlikely, I’m pretty heavily speculating that he’s actually lying about what his talent is. Considering how much of a compulsive liar he is, it’s incredibly hard to trust his absurd claims about being an evil supreme leader. It also feels like he makes smaller lies every time he says that, to make the basic concept seem more realistic in comparison. I feel like this might be easily verifiable though, especially when we see his lab, so I’m not entirely sure about this. [On that note, if we eventually find Rantarou’s lab, I wonder if it’ll reveal anything about his talent]

I really like how much this chapter’s giving screen-time and development to Tenko, Himiko, and Angie. They’re a trio I wasn’t quite expecting to see form, especially in the exact way it’s playing out here. I think I said before that Tenko was my least favourite character, but she’s really growing on me. I can’t quite pinpoint why, since she hasn’t exactly changed, but still. I at least like seeing her be so incredibly awkward and blatant about her crush on Himiko, and her contrast between believing in Himiko’s magic while being skeptical of Angie’s belief in Atua.

And on that note, I wasn’t expecting to see Himiko become converted to Angie’s religion like that. But it makes sense. She’s obviously struggling a lot with stress and anxiety and fear, but Tenko isn’t really doing a whole lot to help, in spite of her crush on her, which is also clearly making Himiko uncomfortable. So it makes sense that she’d turn to someone else for comfort. Considering that Himiko is probably going to be a huge suspect in this chapter, I wonder how Tenko will be during the trial.

Angie still disturbs me a little, honestly. It’s just getting creepy how little she seems to care about the idea of people dying, and how if anything she seems to enjoy the prospect of it. In general her eternally upbeat and smiley attitude is the sort of thing that just feels unpleasant in this sort of situation.

Gonta is still precious and I adore him. It’s kinda sad how he’s just constantly being lied to and kept at arm’s length by everyone. Especially since chances are he’s gonna die sooner or later. Maybe not. We’ll see.

I’m pretty intrigued by Maki during this chapter. She’s certainly being suspicious. But since she’s so suspicious I at least doubt that she’s the killer. I want to try and have a free time event with her next chapter, if I can. I wonder what the deal is with her being so defensive about her lab. It’s hard to tell what’s up with her in general. 

Keebo still feels a little odd to me as a character, so I dunno what to say about him. I did feel pretty bad seeing him get tossed into the water tank though, and it was cool seeing him get his moment to shine and derail Kokichi’s plans.

I hope that Tsumugi, Kiyo, Kirumi, and to a lesser degree Miu get some focus soon. I mean, at least Miu got a bit of focus in chapter one, but the other three definitely feel like the least important people thus far.

I kinda want to do everyone’s free time events, just to learn more about them, but you really don’t get much time to talk to people. Oh well. I’m pretty sure that there’s a bonus mode you get after beating the main game that lets you do everyone’s routes really easily. I never really looked into the ones for the past two games though, so I forget how they work exactly. But I’ve heard that some sort of mode like that exists in this game. I think it’s literally called Dating Sim Mode, which is kinda hilariously on the nose. Though I wonder, would Kaede be the protagonist in it, or Shuichi? I guess if it plays out like an alternate timeline where no murders happen, it’d logically be Kaede. But it’d be amusing if you could at least choose to play as Shuichi for it.

And on the note of free time events and stuff, it’s hard to tell, but I THINK that the number of friendship fragments you had technically stays the same? I’m not sure. It said I had one fragment in my skill screen. But I don’t think I had an option to look at Rantarou’s detailed info screen. Oh well. It’s not a big deal, so nobody needs to tell me. But the way chapter one played out makes me think that I should have just tried to fit in two sessions with Rantarou, since talking to Shuichi was kinda pointless.

Speaking of Rantarou, this chapter’s making me wonder if instead of gaining the memories of his talent, he gained the memories of the Ultimate Hunt that we saw everyone else get here. He at least knew enough to know the name. I’m getting more and more curious about him. Especially since we still don’t know exactly what his plan was when he went to the basement.

To bridge over to discussing the murder, I should say that I still really like Ryoma as a character, and I wish I could have talked to him more before he died. But there were other characters I was prioritizing over him. I just really like his whole grizzled, realistic, but self-deprecating attitude. I wasn’t really expecting him to feel like such a big voice of reason, but he really was.

Though before I talk about his death specifically, I want to talk about the motive this time around. I really like how it’s technically the same motive as the first one in DR1, but it plays out really differently because everyone’s motives got mixed up. Which is why it’s going to be REALLY interesting to see how the hell someone got motivated to kill Ryoma if they got somebody else’s motive. It’s a really simple twist on the idea, but it does a whole lot to change the situation and make the motive less clear.

I feel like there was probably some tablet-swapping going on in the background that we didn’t get to see, even counting for how Kokichi’s plan for doing one big binge-watching party failed. The fact that he spent some amount of time alone with Gonta, and that he got caught up in some unexplained event while he was getting the tablets, is making me really suspicious about what’s going on. Maybe someone just managed to find and view their own motive and decided to kill, but that seems a little . . . simple. I wonder if the exact situation of who got which person’s motive will play into the logic of solving this case. Other than Shuichi having Kaito’s motive, all we know is that everyone had a different person’s motive, and that Gonta had Tsumugi’s. And I guess we also know that Maki never looked at whichever one she got. The fact that we got Kaito’s motive is really interesting to me, since it seems like it was done to make him less suspicious, since we as the player would know that Kaito never saw his motive, and so we’d assume that he had no motive to kill. But it still felt like this chapter was signalling his death in an almost Stephen King sort of way. I hope not.

As for the murder itself, it definitely seems that the issue will be more to do with figuring out how Ryoma’s body got into the water tank, than how he actually died. It’s fairly obvious that he died sometime during the night, or right before the magic show, and was drowned in the pool. The game just about spells that out though, with how Shuichi immediately guesses that the time of death being hidden meant that he probably died elsewhere. I mean I guess it could be, like, a double subversion, but I doubt it.

I feel like anyone who was present at the magic show is probably largely free of suspicion since I’m not sure exactly how anyone could have moved his body into the tank if they were standing elsewhere in the room. Since we saw the contents of the tank before the curtains got drawn over them, he had to have been actively moved into the tank during that one-minute time frame.

From what I remember, the characters not present at the magic show, excluding the currently dead people, were Kokichi, Maki, and Kaito, from what I remember, so those three are pretty suspicious, but Kaito seems like the only one of those three who probably did it, in a metagaming sense. I just can’t see Kokichi dying so soon, and Maki’s being set up as a suspicious character, so by process of elimination Kaito seems like the most suspicious of the group. I feel like it’d lead to a more interesting mystery if the killer was someone physically present in the room during the magic show, though. It almost feels too easy to suspect the people who weren’t there. And honestly I almost feel like them not being in the room at the time would have made it harder rather than easier to set the body where it ended up.

At least in terms of the people in the magic show, Himiko is obviously really suspicious. Funnily enough, Kokichi even spelled out the whole ‘she seems suspicious, which almost makes her seem NOT suspicious, but maybe that’s what she WANTS us to think’ thought process that I had in mind. It’s really easy to fall into that sort of loop, especially when you try and metagame it. Realistically speaking, she obviously had the best ability to physically set up the body, since she was in the tank at the time, but I doubt that she’d try and murder someone in a way where it’d be so easy to pin it on her.

Obviously a major part of the mystery here is going to involve her being stubbornly silent about explaining how the escape trick worked because she wants to tell us that magic did it, and so it’ll be hard to figure out the mechanics of how a body could have been moved there.

Though, wait, I guess it’s actually pretty easy to guess that Ryoma might have been hidden inside the small piranha tank, and got dropped into the water tank along with them. I’m not sure how they would have kept him from being eaten before the drop happened, but still, it’d be a convenient way for him to have gotten into the tank, especially since, as a timer-based mechanism, the killer didn’t need to be the one to, like, drag him into the tank. In which case literally anyone could be a suspect, whether they were in the room at the time or not, but I guess a big question then is figuring out how someone got the body there in the first place, especially if they weren’t involved in the preparation of the magic show.

I wish I could remember where Ryoma would have been during the night and morning before he died, and who would have had alibis and whatnot. Although, come to think of it, since even touching the pool water during night-time is forbidden, then if he was drowned in the pool I guess it must have been during the morning, since he would have died via the Exisals if he’d broken a rule. Which narrows down the time-frame to between 8am and whenever the magic show happened, which I think was very soon after that.

I wonder how much of a puzzle there’ll be to figuring out the exact mechanics of how he got drowned, though. The pool’s overall layout, and the detail put into describing the exact dimensions of the pool itself, and the detail about it being only half-full, make it seem like there must have been something more to it than just ‘someone dragged him there and shoved his face under the water until he died’.

If it’s Kaito, then it almost feels too easy, in a way. Especially with how I think he didn’t do a training session with Shuichi the night before the murder, and how he wasn’t there at the magic show. And as I said, the thing with Shuichi getting his motive feels like it might be a way to mislead the player from guessing that he did it. It really would confuse me if he did it though, since he didn’t see his motive. Unless Monodam actually gave everyone their correct tablets when he returned them all. We’ll see.

I think my main issue is just that I have no real idea who ELSE could have done it. Nobody else seems genuinely suspicious. I haven’t done the investigation yet, but as of now, we mostly just have a few characters who are being immediately framed as suspicious people, which feels like shorthand for ‘they didn’t do it’ at this point, and a whole bunch of people who have the same amount of evidence pointing at them. Kaito’s the only one who has any amount of signs pointing at him, though a lot of that’s me using a metagaming perspective, since I have no clue why he’d do such a thing.

I guess the only other particularly suspicious people would be, I dunno . . . Angie and Kirumi? Since Angie was working with Himiko on the magic show, and Kirumi helped with the curtains. That’s about it. I’m curious to see if my guesses might change once we have actual evidence. I hope it’s not quite as simple as that. I know that there’s no real chance of it being as much of a mindfuck as the first case, but it’d be lame to go right from that to a case where I immediately guess it correctly.

Oh, and before I forget, I have no goddamn clue what’s going on with that writing Gonta found. I just can’t even begin to formulate a guess about that. I don’t even know if it’ll be relevant to this case, or if it’s a hint toward a future plot point.

I think that’s about everything worth going over. Judging by how chapter one went, I might do the same thing and play both the investigation and the trial tomorrow [with a break in-between to write about the investigation before I do the trial], but I might take a break tomorrow and do it the day after since I have something else I need to do sometime over the next few days. It might work better to take a break after the end of this chapter, though. We’ll see.

[dreams-of-headcanons]

Oh boy I was not tagged xD

I just saw it on @skelltales and wanted to do it.

hooo boy I spotted a few I’m kinda nervous about answering

Name: Caitlin

Nickname: Chamomile

Age: 25

Date of Birth: October 18th, 1991

Nationality: American

Heritage: A lot of my Ancestors are from the British Isles. Mostly England. I had some relative on my dad’s side within the last maybe 100 yrs that were straight from Ireland.

Religion: None. Not my thing. I used to be interested in Wicca and Paganism. I was raised by Baptist Christians though.

Current Place of Residence: North Carolina

Education: Still in College... trying to figure out what I’m doing with my life.

Car: I don’t even have my license because I don’t get much chance to practice and when I do I get too nervous and my mom isn’t much help. But. I had a Blue 2001 VW Beetle I was gonna drive and used to practice in but an important metal pipe on it got rusted and there was a hole in it. So all the fluid leaked out and it won’t run anymore (｡•́︿•̀｡) I think it was the coolant. And VW Beetles are way expensive to take care of, so we gave up on it.

Skills: Writing, Drawing, Being Helpful, Giving Advice, Video Games, I know how to run a register minus some of the more confusing parts, Cooking, I love cooking, Did I mention video games? xD

Pets: 1 pretty little pupper, 1 big fat cat, and 1 smaller cat. All 3 of them are assholes.

Marital Status: Single and NOT ready to mingle. I am perfectly happy as a single pringle. Now I want pringles.

Children: Zer000. None. Nope. There was a point in the past that I had considered them but fuck no. Maybe adopt in the VERY far future if I find an s/o that wants kids but I would MUCH rather stick to animals. I want to own a bird or snake one day. 

Siblings: I’m a spoiled only child (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

Height: 5′3″

Weight: kinda self conscious about this one but last time I checked it was between 220-230. It used to be higher but I’ve steadily been working on losing weight and succeeding. Could probably succeed more faster if I tried harder but I’m too lazy.

Eye Color: Blue. sometimes they look kinda greyish or greenish. But mostly Blue.

Hair Color: I don’t even know sometimes tbh. It was dark ass brown when I was an infant. Strawberry blonde when I was little. Dirty blonde as I got old. Now it’s like a dark? blonde? or a darkish ash blonde. sort of.

Disorders/Disabilities: I’m near sighted. I have astigmatism in my right eye. Which means that that eye is warped. What’s weird is that if you look close enough you can tell because the pupil isn’t a perfect circle. I’ve been wearing glasses since 1st grade.

Some Traits About Me: Passionate about the things I believe in or love, I’m a total nerd, I’m kindhearted (sometimes to a fault), If someone messes with me or especially my friends I go from sweet quiet shy to go fuck yourself before I punch you in the face, even though I hate confrontation, but sometimes it just can’t be avoided.

Favorite Food: omg pasta and pizza, one of the reasons why I’m so slow to lose weight. also one of the reasons I love Papyrus so much.

Favorite Drink: Earl/Lady Grey tea, other types of Tea, Water is always good from the right source, and if we’re talkin’ soda then I love Root Beer and Cream Soda. Or just about any flavor of Fanta because I love fruit sodas.

Top Five Movies: Fantastic Beasts and where the find them, Warcraft, Sweeney Todd or just about any Tim Burton movie tbh, the How to Train your Dragon movies, and Into the Woods

Top Five Tv Shows: Steven Universe, Avatar: the Last Airbender, Legend of Korra, Castlevania, and I don’t know to put for #5. Maybe Danny Phantom or the old Teen Titans... or Rurouni Kenshin.

Top Five Songs: Ffffff I dunno I can’t think of shit right now. Saria’s song from Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time and covers I’ve heard of it, Bonetrousle from Undertale(also the covers), Holiday by Green Day, Wolf in Sheep’s clothing by Set it Off, annnd Nightmare by Avenged Sevenfold

Favorite Sport: Not much into Sports anymore but I used to always really liked Baseball and Basketball. I used to love shooting hoops. Michael Jordan was one of my idols when I was growing up.

Favorite Book: Harry Potter books, Abhorsen Trilogy, and some of the Warcraft books

Favorite Color: Rainbow. I don’t know. It depends on my mood. Lately I favor some shades of purple but I also love red and some shades of blue or pink. I’ve also always loved Turquoise.

Broken Bones: Never broke a bone but I sprained my pinky toe once. I landed weird on my trampoline when I was little. My toe bent outward away from where it was supposed to be. I had to stay home the next day. My mom called a nurse and the nurse told her to put a cotton ball between my toes and tape them together, like a splint. The toe and some of the area around it was also very bruised. Darkly bruised.

Fears: Failing and roaches except lately they make me react more violent than scared, also when I take my dog out to potty in the front yard while it’s dark the edges of the house make me really nervous because I can’t see anything and I feel exposed. Unless there’s a full moon and a clear enough sky.

I’m not tagging anyone. Any of you can do it if you want to.