#i just wanna give it its own platform y'know?

[julesnichols]

One day (when I've slept enough to both remember enough to make all of my points and be coherent) I'll explain what I meant when I joked about Sophie being worse

[sobredunia]

tell me about Fez, please, im looking through your blog and like, i am intrigued

please click read more for an unskippable cutscene

ALRIGHT SO.

FEZ is an indie game created by a (now hated on the internet) guy called Phil Fish. If you wanna find out why he's hated do your own research this isn't about him it's about his videogame

It came out on april 13th of 2012 (yes. homestuck day. i know), and it sold over a million copies by the end of 2013. I've tried finding how many copies have been sold up to this day in total but didn't find anything, but the general gist is that it was pretty much an instant hit, and people absolutely loved it, working together to solve its intricate puzzles even to this day. Yes, there are mysteries hidden in here that an entire community of dedicated fans still hasn't found the solution to 11 years later

(tiny warning here, do not play this game if you have motion sickness or are severely affected by rapidly changing images, there are whole areas that are a doozy to play through. Please stay safe!)

Gameplay

Fez has a singular core mechanic that remains unchanging throughout the entire course of the game, and that is the ability to change perspectives

this is what the game looks like, a 2d pixelated landscape with tons of beautiful colors

but.

this is what the game also looks like

that's right, baby, this shit's actually in 3d

you use this change of perspective nonstop throughout your adventure, to cross gaps like demonstrated in the gif, or to simply access places you couldn't in that current perspective. There are other tiny mechanics that get added, like invisible platforms, crates and buttons, bombs, timed platforms that disappear... they add a bit of flavor, but the main mechanic is always there

There's also a really big emphasis on puzzles towards the latter half of the game, but I'll get more into it later

Story motivations

Your name is Gomez, you are a tiny little guy living in a cozy 2d village that you have never ever left. One day, an old man named Geezer sends you a letter asking you to climb to the top of the village. There, a giant fucking cube appears outta nowhere, teleports you to a satanic ritual, then to the vaccum of space, speaks to you in a strange language you cannot understand, and gives you a free hat. Oh and also he explodes or something

After you're given the hat, the fez, you discover that the world is actually in 3d, and you can now change perspectives. You unlock the core mechanic

After that, you wake up in your room with the fez still on your head, and a being in 4d called Dot is sent from who knows where to tell you that the cube that gave you the hat is called Hexahedron, is actually technically kinda god, and you fucking killed him. Now, your mission is to pick up its 64 pieces and reconstruct him

You see all those tiny golden cubes? You have to collect 8 of them to make a bigger cube, and you need to collect 32 of those

Now hold on, I hear you ask, didn't you just say that you need to collect 64 pieces? Why are you changing your mind and saying 32?

Because, my dear friend, there is another type of cube that you have to also collect

These are called anticubes. Y'know, "a negative for every positive" type of stuff. You have to also collect 32 of those

The main difference between an anticube and a normal cube is that they aren't broken into 8 pieces, when you find one it'll be whole. You can also sometimes encounter full golden cubes btw, but they're rarer than its normal tiny pieces that you collect. Another main difference is that these cubes are much, much harder to find, and I'll go into detail in the next section

There's also this one hub area, with four doors that will only open once you have enough cubes (anticubes also count)

Once you open the door with 16 cubes, you'll enter this one town filled with people that aren't quite like you. In there there's yet another door that will open when you get 32 cubes, so get to gathering motherfucker, you got a long way ahead of you

Puzzles (anticube edition)

When you collect that first anti cube, there is no going back. The floodgates have opened and you are now too deep in. You know too much. You must see this to the very end, for better and especially for the worse

The puzzles in fez are actually surprisingly varied when it comes to difficulty and accessibility. Most likely, the first anticube you'll find will be in this one room. You'll scan the qr code and do the instructions it says, and then the horror of your new life will begin

But this is just the tip of the iceberg, because BOY OH BOY are anticubes convoluted to find in some cases

Sometimes you'll get them by solving relatively easy puzzles, like this one

others will require a bit more thinking, like this one

and then we have the hardest ones where you'll have to learn how to read words, numbers, and commands in the FEZ language

and these arent even the hardest bullshit puzzles the game will pull at you. it gets worse. it gets so much worse

Game ending

Surprisingly enough, you can get a game ending with just 32 cubes. In fact, it is literally impossible to get the 64 cube ending without the 32 cube one unless you have outside help, you know the answer to all puzzles, or you somehow get extremely lucky in a very specific number of rooms

Behind the 32 cube door there's a giant gate that, and I shit you not, teleports you into fucking space

Aliens are canon in the fez lore and they look like squids

Once you reach the top of the alien temple fucking thing, you enter an eye(?) and there you meet the shell of god, the Hexahedron. Since you haven't gathered all 64 cubes, it fails to reconstruct, and it breaks down. This part is pretty dangerous for people with epilepsy, by the way, as there's rapidly changing black and white colors. The 64 cube ending is a bit easier in the eyes, but yeah, just a heads up

In the 32 cube ending, you get sent back home, and you see how the town gets more and more pixelated. Then you see a weird sequence that's like those videos of people really zooming in into things and you see the particles and microscopic stuff?? idk. and then you see Gomez playing the drums :D

After that, you wake up in your room, still with your Fez, and the same sequence at the start of the game plays out. You go to the top of the village, Geezer summons a giant fucking cube, you meet god, but instead of getting another fez, you get cool glasses, that allow you to finally solve a batch of puzzles you couldn't see before and you can finally gather the last anticubes

In the 64 cube ending, the Hexahedron reforms correctly, and instead of zooming in, it zooms out. You see that your world is a tiny cube next to many tiny cubes, and then those tiny cubes form a 4d entity that looks just like Dot, and then those many Dots next to eachother zoom out until they're nothing but static, and then it looks like a tv is turned off, and then the credits roll

They're both very strange endings, and definitely not what a lot of players expected or wanted, but what can you do

Puzzles (hell edition)

NOW.

You thought that was the end?

You thought you could simply walk away scot free?

You thought that this game had no more last "fuck you"s up in its arse?

You thought fucking wrong

Because you know that something's not right

Because you're in too deep

You've played this far. You've scrolled this far.

You have to see how this ends

You have to tie up the last loose ends

You see this? This is the game's map. It actually has a really clever design! Not only are the icons for the areas cubes, but you can also change perspectives like how you do in-game! Pretty cool, right? There are also some small indicators you can see on the bottom left. They mark if you've left any cubes, bits, treasures, or locked doors. They also mark any secrets you might have left! And they turn golden once you've found everything there is in that room, including secrets

If you were normal (let's imagine that for a bit, okay?) and you got the 64 cube ending, that's it, right? You've gathered every cube, you've gathered every map (you need them to get all cubes), you've gotten every key and opened every locked door, that should be it, right? You have everything the game asked you to have, so the whole map should be golden, right?

...right?

No! :D you fucking fool, you poor summer child

In fact, there are three rooms left. Three rooms left with a secret symbol next to them, and one other special room

First, we'll talk about the special room

Once you gather 64 cubes, you'll be able to open a door hidden on an unsuspecting island and access this one special room

kinda weird, right? It has a tileset that appears nowhere else in the game, same with its background. There's also a strange transparent heart over it? Strange

Now, the three ungolden rooms

First, the observatory, the room with the easiest puzzle, at least in comparison with the other two

Second, you have whatever the fuck this is. In order to solve this one, you HAVE to know the Fez language, no ifs or buts. Not only that, but there's a high chance that you were reading the language the wrong way, so in order to have the remote chance to solve this mf you'll have to git gud and realise the error of your ways

And last, but definitely not least

The most infamous room in the entire game aside from maybe the heart room previously shown

This cunt

These three are the hardest challenges the game has to offer, no exaggeration. And also, the first two rooms can be solved at any point of your adventure, but for the third one you HAVE to have completed the 32 cube ending, no workarounds

Now, how to solve them?

If you go to the observatory at night, you'll notice two red blinking stars in the corner. They're speaking in binary code, with one being 1 and the other being 0. Then, that binary has to be translated into a buncha diff languages to be decoded, and once you're done you'll be left with a set of commands that you'll enter in the observatory to get a special red cube that not even Dot, the motherfucker in 4 dimensions that knows things beyond our comprehension, knows what it is

For the second room in fez language, you'll need to answer a question with the cubes provided to you. It's a weird thing where you have to mix this word with the name of the company who made the game, I don't know man. Once you've answered you'll get the second red cube

And now, the third room

Commonly denominated the black monolith room

Why is there no black monolith?

Because you have to make it appear

First, you have to get this burnt map

Behind it, there's a string of code that translates into commands

You need to get into the room, and use the special ability given to you in the 32 cube ending: first perspective mode

You'll have to stand in the tiny square inside this infinity symbol thing that doesn't have a line in it (basically, not the one the screenshot is looking at lol), and then you'll have to do the commands

Once you do it, the black monolith will appear

Okay, you did it

You put the code correctly

Now what?

This isn't a collectable. This isn't a red cube. This doesn't do anything. What is this? How do I solve this puzzle

You wanna know the answer?

Who fucking knows

No one knows the answer to this. No one knows how to solve this. The community solved this a week after launch by bruteforcing it. I shit you not they made a bot that spewed random fez inputs and people just tried them until they got the correct solution

No one knows how it's meant to be solved. To this day, people still go on the r/fez subreddit to give their theories on what the intended solution was meant to be

They have tried everything

The position of the candles, the boiler room, some other random ass rooms that look remotely similar to the black monolith room, a random shower room, it somehow being on a book in the game that's just filled with haikus??, some bullshittery mobius strip mental gymnastics, the other half of the code being in an abandoned airport in Arizona...

...whatever the fuck this is...

by far the most known theory was the release date theory

but that got disproven by one of the devs a few years ago

but anyways, we've already gone through insanity for long enough, it's time to be normal now

Once you've gathered all of the red pieces, they will appear in the heart room

that's it

we're done

.

..

...

....almost

there's a secret code

one that was actually intended to be datamined for once lmao

If you look at certain artifacts in the menu and you rotate them a certain way in a certain order, the heart will vanish and the screen will turn white

you'll be sent back to the menu, and if you load that save file and go back into the temple...

there will be nothing waiting for you there

that, my friend, is the true end of Fez

You wanted to know too much, you wanted to learn everything, to the point of wanting to tear open a creation that took blood, sweat, tears, and five years to complete. And now there is nothing. You ignored the game's boundaries of only wanting to let you know this much, and now the game is empty, the love is gone, and there is nothing left for you here

You can leave now, I hope you're satisfied

[yournightowl]

Your NightOwl #054

The best systems, the longest-lasting systems, all share something in common: Self-maintenance!

Evolution's probably spent 99% of its time getting it right- replication and reproduction and quality control. Immune systems and autophagy and DNA repair- all that good stuff. By comparison, growing legs and lungs and fingers is easy- Just a matter of time.

And that all carries over to systems of oppression. The best ones don't need to be enforced; they train the populace into doing that for them.

Which is my way of introducing the topic of self-censorship.

ヾ(￣◇￣)ノ〃

i was aware of it, before the oldnet. i think everyone's aware of it- that moment of hesitation before you hit Post.

The nagging voice in the back of your head that you don't want to get shadowbanned or delisted or un-promoted; The big brother you construct for yourself, hovering somewhere above your left shoulder, nudging your fingers towards backspace.

"i'm just choosing to be considerate." __〆(￣ー￣ )

Cursing, depictions of violence, discussions of sex Y'know, the salt of life? All risky. "Can't be seen to be associated with it." (；￣Д￣)

Better to play it safe. (⇀‸↼‶) "Once I make it big, once i have a platform, THEN i can start speaking my mind."

But the words we use aren't just a product our mind spits out.

Word choice is a choice.

And the less practiced you are in rebelling, the harder it becomes.

i say unalive in daily conversation. :(´ཀ`」 ∠): Sometimes i think it too.

And when i wanna curse the masters that be for un-aliving my independent thought |ʘ‿ʘ)╯ My tongue doesn't go to the big bombs- the F's and C's and D's on the top shelves of the expletives weapons rack.

The tongue is a muscle. If you don't give it proper exercise, it's gonna atrophy.

And soon you won't even be able to reach for that shelf.

-Is how i feel. (￣▽￣) i still don't wanna curse much on this blog because it feels unprofessional.

And i know i'm not a professional But going through the motions, the warm-ups, the exercises for it

Maybe it can help me get back in shape ⸜( ´ ꒳ ` )⸝

independently choosing, of my own free will, to avoid the F-word, your nightowl

[bgech]

Back at it again with the fanfic

Cw for animal cruelty, Jamie kills a horse :(

1134 words

--

Viking was sick, which is bullshit by the way because he's dead. How a dead man can contract the common cold is beyond his means of understanding, but whatever, fine. He'll stew in misery with a headache, a stuffy nose and a sore throat and he'll stew loudly. He complains to anyone and anything that will listen and after Nukeri kicked him out under the guise of not wanting to catch the ghost cold, Viking decided that if anything will listen, it's the void.

The void isn't a thing, it's the lack of things, the absence of matter, the great big nothing that lurks at the edges of the world. So it can't get tired of listening because it can't listen at all, and it can't tell him off for being annoying because, well, no voice to cry suffering and all that.

So he's sat himself down on the obsidian platform people spawn on when they take the leap and go through an Overworld portal, throwing eggs into the abyss, complaining about being sick.

He's been here for long enough that the obsidian is starting to hurt, but he's still got all these eggs and it'd be a shame to not throw them. Eventually he stops running his mouth and focuses on the throwing of the eggs, trying to make one hit another mid air before it disappears into the fog. He gets it a few times, the satisfying crack of the shells destroying eachother giving him a burst of sweet, sweet serotonin.

He's about to go for a new and improved Egg Smash Trickshot, one where he'd have to hit Two eggs mid air, when the very out of place clip clopping of a horse disturbs him.

He turns around to find Jamie, the freakin Queen of Dominion, leading a horse closer to the edge of the obsidian.

"Whatcha..whatcha got there? Your majesty..?"

"Viking you know how I feel about formalities," she steps onto the ledge of the platform, yanking the horse along with her, "I'm just trying to give this sacrifice to the Void."

"Sacrifice eh? Well I've been throwin' these eggs for a while.."

"Oh you have? Very good, very good Viking, the Void is sure to favor you just as it has favored me if you should continue."

She gets the horse up on the ledge with her and it whinnies in fear, surly the poor thing can sense the danger it's in now. She gets behind it and picks up it's hind leg, unbalancing it enough so she can topple it over the edge, sending it falling.

A sickening crack rings out through the air when the horses lead tightens around its neck and breaks it, crushing it's windpipe. The rope got cought up on a crack in the obsidian and Viking has to turn away as Jamie huffs irritably and mutters about how the void much prefers live sacrifices. He knows she got it unstuck from the when it's limp corpse falls into the depths.

He feels a little worse about throwing his eggs now.

..

"So why are you chucking all these eggs?" At some point she sat down next to him, gazing at the void with a sort of respect Viking has never seen.

"Oh, I thought it was fun to watch 'em fall, y'know?"

"Oh it is fun! I wonder where they go."

"I...I donno Jamie I've never thought of it like that, you wanna have a go?" He holds out a stack of eggs, which she takes eagerly.

"I wonder if there's a bottom to it all, or maybe it goes on and on forever, wouldn't that be something, such an infante expanse right here, waiting for us.."

They fall into silence, watching the eggs fall and fall until they're nothing but off-white specks in the deep black, almost like stars if he squints a bit. Then they get so small that he can't see them at all and they've faded beyond his understanding.

He risks a glance at his companion, and she's stock still, unblinking and unmoving, if he wasn't looking for it he wouldn't have seen her breathing either. Her eyes are glazed over as her bright magenta irises reflect the dark.

"...Jamie..?"

She tilts her head towards him and lifts her empty gaze to meet his own and he suddenly wishes he was anywhere else at all. Looking into Jamie's eyes feels no different than looking into the void beneath his feet. The integral nothingness has taken over her eyes and he can't look away. Like he's been caught in a spiderweb looking in to the face of the great tarantula that will be his demise.

Then she blinks and the moment ends, she looks away but her eyes hold light agian, and her face holds expression, she's breathing and moving absently as she throws eggs like it's a game and not a sacrifice.

Viking doesn't need to blink but he does anyway, maybe out of comfort, and rubs at his eyes with his free hand.

"You alright there? You look like you've seen a ghost!" She laughs, and it sounds like her, she sounds alive, she is Alive.

"Ha ha, very funny Jamie, I get it, your great comedy was not lost on me don't worry."

"Awh c'mon that was good!" She stands up from the ledge and hops down to the main platform, "seriously though, you ok?" She offers her hand to him.

"Yeah, yea I'm just a little sick, don't ask me how I'll complain about it till your ears fall off." He takes her hand and has to restrain himself from jerking it away immediately, since when were dragons so cold?

"Sorry to hear that being beyond the grave doesn't save you from mortal sickness, truly unfortunate."

"Truly unfortunate indeed,"

They walk to the portal in silence and Viking lets her go through first. Once she's gone he spares a glance back at the edge of the island.

He'll swear to the end of the earth he saw someone looking back at him, but he admittedly didn't stay long enough to gather any conclusive evidence.

They part ways at spawn and he crawls into his home feeling much worse than he did before. Not only has his headache upgraded to a migraine but he's wracked with horrible chills, like he's alive again and fighting his way out of that damned storm.

Viking curls up under his threadbare blanket, something that never bothered him before because he couldn't feel the cold, holding a lantern like a teddy bear hoping to steal some of it's warmth. It's a fruitless endeavor in the end. He only manages to pass out due to sheer exhaustion, falling into a fitful and restless sleep in the cold forgotten grave where he died.

[lexiene]

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════ . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕣 : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . ════

"Exploring together always shares the moments as we get to know more."

ー Lexi

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[ ✧ My Profile ✧ ]

Lexi | 20+ | 10/6 | Libra | Artist & Writer

Some little about me, I am (simp jjskk), an omnivert (well not quite.. im more introvert person) writer & artist, and I love listening music and draw and sleep zzz...

You'll get know me from interacting "author asking questions" posts sooo yup nice to meet you!

Extra: I tend to forget things easily so yah ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

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[ ✧ Why I created this Blog? ✧ ]

To write what I want and to let it out something for what I'd been dreaming/thinking about how would this character show in different way of character, samples as boyfriend, husband material and more ;P

This blog post Writing and Drawing!

Inspired to write after reading lots of fics and discovering awesome inspiration authors that totally got the spark from it and the energy to be one of that inspiration (*´ω｀*)

The blog's theme is permanent ( idk if I ever change ig ) except for the profile ( I change often ) hehe since im too lazy to organize here like changing all of it...( is pain in the ass (´┓`)

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[ ✧ Furthermore / Importance ✧ ]

Please be respectful here in my blog because I do not want to make any commotion and unpleasant atmosphere here when I post something that is weird or not getting the point.... please just leave it alone....

Note: It is at least you can help and prevent trouble! Im just a human being y'know! I have real life situation goin this is my only way to get away from stress..

BLANK AND EMPTY BLOGS MUST READ ( LINK! )

I do not own anything except the fics all is respectedly from anime/mangaka/original authors' work!

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[ ✧ My Arts ✧ ]

This blog posts art! Such as fanarts, OCs, character x reader manga and more etc!

Although this is not open for request but you can send me a cute imagines ; )

Eg: Hi i wanna see character reacting/giving hugs to Reader something like that, and I draw it :)

Nsfw will be on Twitter ( maybe~? )

Maybe future comission? ( idk, maybe soon soon? )

Importantly: Do NOT REPOST MY ART, ASK for permission first ( for profile OK ) but DO NOT REPOST to any other media especially, TIKTOK ( If I ever have tiktok its okay but if you're the one who post its, PLS STOP ) as well IG then CLAIM IT as YOURS PLS JUST STOP

Again, don't send something that is completely uncomfortable to read.... pls just leave it :<

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© Do not repost, refrain modifying any Lexiene works to any other soical media/platforms.

[shimmeringclouds]

Chapter 4

The train journey was excruciatingly long, just as they remembered it to be. Karatsugu peered out the window beside him, his eyes stuck to the darkening sky above, which was also tinted a slight shade darker due to him wearing his large aviator sunglasses. He watched as the scenery outside gradually changed from strictly endless waves of tall green grass and trees to small buildings in the far distance and flat earth.

Across from him, Hajime sat silently, slouching in his seat as he clutched his large backpack to his chest to rest his chin atop it, his eyes shut as he slept quietly. A small smile came to Karatsugu's lips before he yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his hand whilst his other arm stretched up above his head. He let it fall down onto his lap lazily as he went back to staring out the window, his leg jumping up and down lightly as he inwardly became impatient.

It had been quite a while since he had last come to Akashika District; a year, to be exact. He still remembered the first time he had visited that place like it was only yesterday, as well as the interesting adventure he and his newfound brothers took part in. Karatsugu smiled fondly at the memory, wondering just what else they would be getting up to this time.

He was quickly snapped out of his daydreams as a voice spoke over the intercom, and although it sounded very fuzzy and full of static, he could just about make out what the voice said:

'We are now arriving at Akashika Station. This is the train's final stop. Please ensure you have all your items of belonging before leaving the train. We are now arriving at...'

The voice repeated itself several more times before it fell silent, and Karatsugu could feel the train begin to slow down. He carefully, and very cautiously, leaned forward to nudge Hajime's knee, attempting to rouse him from his nap.

"Hajime... You need to wake up now, we're here..." he mumbled, gently calling for his younger brother. He could feel a bead of sweat beginning to accumulate on his temple as Hajime didn't stir, prompting him to nudge a tad bit harder whilst also bearing in mind to not push his own luck, lest he want a fist to the face.

Thankfully, that didn't happen, and Hajime grumbled against his backpack as his eyes sluggishly cracked open. His dark gaze landed on Karatsugu for a moment before it wandered around the train compartment, shifting slightly in his seat and raising his head. He rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, wincing at the soreness from the awkward position he had fallen asleep in.

"... We're here?" he mumbled, barely audible over the ruckus of the train still moving against the tracks. Karatsugu nodded, taking his phone out of his pocket whilst Hajime stretched his arms. Karatsugu swiped through the group chat one of his brothers had created, skimming over his unread messages from hours ago to begin tapping away at his screen.

── SEX🤤🍆tuplets

12:24

[Chorosuke💐🌹] Who changed the group chat name?

[Takashi🍰🍬🍭] Who do u think lol

[Ozo🍺🚖] its gr8 right! sexxxxxxxxxxxx tuplets HAHAH

[Chorosuke💐🌹] Please shut up.

[Ozo🍺🚖] ur alwas so booooooring chorosuk e lolol anyway! karatsugu n hajime! wya?

[Hajime🐈‍⬛🐾] train

That is correct burazzas!~~😎😎✨✨ Our travels have only barely just begun!💫💫 We will be arriving later tonight! I'm sure you are all very excited for our arrival, hmm~~? 🥀🥀🥀🥀😎😎😎😎

[Takashi🍰🍬🍭] We get it plz stop with those ugly ass emojis

[Jyushimatsu🌻🌼☀️] KARAMATSU NIISAN ICHIMATSU NIISAN HIHHIHUHIHUU!!!!! HIRRY UP I WANNA PLAY!!!!!!

[Chorosuke💐🌹] I don't want to kick you out again, Jyushimatsu. Please don't spam.

── SEX🤤🍆tuplets 19:03

[72 unread messages]

We are arriving at the station!✨✨ Ozo, burazza, would you be so kind as to give us a lift?😎😎😎

[Ozo🍺🚖] sureeee its abt time u guys got here!

[Jyushimatsu🌻🌼☀️] YAYYYYAYA!!! YOUR HERE YOURH ERE!!! OSOMATSU NIISAN CAN I CUM A SWELL????!!!!

[Takashi🍰🍬🍭] oh my god eww

[Ozo🍺🚖] Yh! the more the happier as they say

[Chorosuke💐🌹] It's: 'The more, the merrier.' Honestly, how do you not know?

[Ozo🍺🚖] I ain't no nerd anyway ill be there in 10!

──

Satisfied with Ozo's response, Karatsugu put away his phone and stood up, reaching up to the overhang and carefully sliding his suitcase out and onto the floor. He also did the same for Hajime's suitcase, having a sneaking suspicion that the man wouldn't get it himself, but he wasn't bothered by it.

They waited for the train to pull to a stop, the metal wheels against the tracks squeaking and groaning loudly into the air. The voice over the intercom spoke again, signalling that all passengers were now allowed to leave.

So, with their suitcases in hand and their backpacks slung over their shoulders, the two brothers exited the train and stepped onto the same barren and quiet platform. The warm evening air pushed into their faces, the heat a lot tamer than it would be during the day. Hajime looked up towards the sky for a moment, witnessing the final shreds of sunlight melt away into the night as a dark blanket covered the sky.

"We should head outside," Karatsugu spoke up, his baritone voice echoing around the area, "they could be here any minute, now." He had already begun walking towards the exit, and after a few seconds, he heard his brother's footsteps shuffling along the concrete ground, following him from behind.

Karatsugu stepped out first, taking a deep breath of fresh air as a soft breeze picked up around him briefly before it died down. He smiled at the scenery, already feeling at home with his excitement growing by the second.

"Karamatsu-niisan."

The man screamed, jumping on the spot and tripping over his own feet as he tumbled to the ground, his mouth agape and sunglasses askew on his face, eyes darting around to see where that sudden voice came from, only to find a man standing to his right with a brown paper bag over his head and the roughly cut holes where his eyes should be dark and devoid of life.

Hajime stepped out next, taking one good look at Karatsugu on the ground and raising his brow before looking over to the paper bag man. He barely reacted, only giving a slight nod and saying:

"Long time no see, Jyushimatsu."

"Aha! Same here, Ichimatsu-niisan!" Jyushimatsu laughed, rocking back and forth on his heels giddily. Karatsugu, still on the ground, gradually collected himself and cupped his chin with this thumb and forefinger, smirking as if he hadn't just screamed like he had seen a ghost.

"Heh! Jyushimatsu! It has been some time since we last spoke in person!" Unsurprisingly, Karatsugu went ignored as the other headed towards a car that was parked a little further down the road, with the engine still running and the lights beaming down onto the gravelled path. Karatsugu only hummed amusedly, standing up and brushing himself off, making sure to readjust his glasses before grabbing his things and following behind them, listening in on their conversation.

"A lot of things have changed around here since you last visited, you know!" Jyushimatsu swung his arms back and forth as he walked, the smile in his voice heard through his words.

"Yeah? Like what?" Hajime readjusted his backpack on his shoulder, throwing a side glance towards Jyushimatsu. The paper bag man only giggled, his head now swaying side to side, as if nodding along to some unheard tune.

"Things!" Was all he said as they reached the car. The trio paused as the driver's door opened, and out clambered a grinning Ozo with a beer can in hand.

"Finally! I thought you guys were never gonna show up!" He complained, though there was no bite behind his words. Hajime shook his head as he watched Ozo take a large swig from his can.

"You couldn't wait until we got to that otaku's house to start drinking? I don't want to die because of your shitty driving..." he shuffled over to the car, opening the trunk and pushing his suitcase in there as Jyushimatsu sat in the back seats.

"I'm not a lightweight! I can handle more than one can, y'know!" Ozo sat back down in his seat, and Karatsugu also went over to place his suitcase in the trunk before closing it. Hajime sat in the back with Jyushimatsu, leaving the passenger seat up front available. Once they were all settled in the car, Ozo manoeuvred the car out of its parked position and back onto the road.

"Let's chuck your stuff at that guy's place, and then we can go drinking!" Ozo cheered, Jyushimatsu matching his excitement. Karatsugu couldn't help but laugh, and even Hajime couldn't control the small smirk that crept its way onto his face, which he quickly hid behind his backpack.

It was nice to be back.

»»-----　♔　-----««

You sighed softly as you wiped down the bar top with the slightly damp cloth in your palm. Glancing at the small clock on the wall behind you, you took note of how it had been just over an hour since your shift at Bang Bang Chicken Bar had started and, as per usual, barely anyone had entered the bar. There was that one regular customer who had already came and went — a man with very large front teeth who asked for the same drink every other night, attempted to flirt with you, then would leave with the promise of coming back as a rich French man... whatever that means.

Another sigh escaped you. It was now just past nine o'clock, and you had a strong feeling that the hours were going to slip by a lot slower than you would like. That, and coupled with the fact that you would be the only one working at the bar at this hour (aside from your boss, who would be cooped up in his office until early hours of the morning), you knew it would be yet another boring night ahead.

Well, maybe not entirely boring.

The sound of drums suddenly filled the silence in the bar, which was soon followed by the sound of heavy strums of electric guitars and keyboards. A woman's voice began belting lyrics into the microphone. You watched the band, Killer Fish, perform on the raised platform in the centre of the room, the seven women on stage lost in their own world of death metal music as their heads nodded along violently to the beat.

When you had first started working at Bang Bang Chicken Bar — an obscure bar at the end of a long, winding and empty road on the outskirts of Akatsuka Village — you did not expect the seven quiet and well-dressed women on the stage to start singing death metal. It scared you half to death the first time you heard the screech of guitar strings echoing through the desolate bar. Even the lead singer, Totoko, dressed in a formal Japanese yukata with her hair styled up in an old-fashioned bun, her face stoic and serious, shocked you with her booming voice and scratchy vocals of a true death metal singer.

It was all so unexpected, and the tremors of the music had left you slightly shaky once the first performance was over. Now, though, you had become used to the music, and although it wasn't your preferred choice of music, you began to enjoy the performances. It made the whole bar feel so much more alive.

By the time you snapped out of your thoughts, the performance was over and the group was setting themselves up for another song. You, with nothing better to do, decided you would turn to the shelves stacked with all kinds of alcoholic drinks behind you and sort through them again, making sure they were presented with their labels faced towards the patrons and that they were organised neatly, despite the fact that you had already done this. Three times.

Whilst you mindlessly traced your fingers along the glass bottles, the music started up again, drowning out the sound of the door to the bar opening.

In walked six men, each dressed in black suits, and each of them boisterous and excited to begin their night of drinking. They awed at the group on stage for a moment before one of them took charge and pushed them over to an empty table in the middle of the room. They took their seats and began conversing with each other, laughing at some joke someone made or at another's crazy antics.

Eventually, two of them stood up from their seats, one seemingly more casual with his hands tucked into his pockets whilst the other, donning a black yukata, seemed more uptight with an annoyed frown pressed onto his upturned lips. The two began making their way over to the bar, where you were stood with your back still turned, oblivious of what was happening behind you until your ears picked up the sound of two men conversing.

You tilted your head slightly, squinting your eyes as if it would help with figuring out whether you were hearing things or not, but as the voices grew closer, your eyes widened as you realised no, this wasn't your imagination, and there were actually other customers in the bar.

Turning on your heel, you physically felt your brain fizzle and pop like an old lightbulb at the sight of the two men coming closer towards you, their faces still fresh in your mind from the first time you had encountered them on separate occasions.

"Come on, Chorosuke! You're loaded! A couple of drinks with your money won't hurt anyone!" It was that taxi driver from the other day who was talking, that same sleazy grin displayed proudly on his face as he poked fun at the man next time him; that man from the store who had given you that watermelon, which actually was sweet.

"You and I both know you won't be having 'a couple of drinks!' And you have your own money! Pay for yourself!" He shouted over the music, his eyes narrowing in frustration as he knew all too well that he would inevitably be paying for the drinks. You could only stand in silence as they grew closer and closer, neither of them truly paying attention to your presence as they continued to bicker back and forth until they were stood right in front of you.

Ozo turned to you first, his mouth opening to make his request until his half-lidded eyes locked onto your face. He frowned for a split-second before his eyes widened, the smirk on his lips stretching into an excited grin as he instantly recognised you. Chorosuke, confused by his brother's odd reaction, turned to you as well, only for his expression to fall into a look of horror, his pale cheeks flushing a bright crimson.

"It's you!" They exclaimed together, their tones completely opposite to one another. Pausing, they whipped their heads to look at each other confusedly. "Wait, what?" they questioned in unison.

"How do you know her?" Chorosuke quickly demanded, his eyes flitting between your nervous form and the man beside him.

"I told you, I met a pretty girl yesterday!" Ozo reminded him, "And what about you?"

"I-I, well... We bumped into each other at the market the other day..." Chorosuke's voice trailed off, secretly hoping you would remember him so that he wouldn't be humiliated in front of the one man who wouldn't let something like this go. Lucky for him, you did remember. You remembered that interaction all too well.

"Really?! Wow! Small world, right?" Ozo turned to you, leaning against the bar top with one arm as he gave you a quick once over, a flirtatious look in his eyes that only served to make you shrink into yourself. "Do you remember me? I dropped you off yesterday! Man, if I knew you worked here, I would come by more often!"

They seemed to be waiting for some kind of reaction from you, so you took a minute step back from the countertop and chuckled nervously, an odd smile on your face that probably didn't look like a smile at all.

"Aha... Yeah! Hi... again..."

This was going to be a long, long night.

[jeontaeh]

FOURTEEN¹⁴

Taehyung was what? A stupid bitch.

Let's set it this way- Jungkook went 18 years of his life thinking he's straight. So is he gong to get defensive and angry when a person makes him feel inferior? Duh.

Not only that, Jungkook went 1 and a half weeks of his life thinking he might just be a little gay. But Sayo-fucking-nara bitches, Jungkook's figured that's just bullshit he contorted in his brain. He's not bisexual, nor gay. He's simply.. horny.

Point being, Jungkook's convinced himself he never really liked Taehyung and never will. Why? Because he's a stupid bitch. And so, so fucking mean. He doesn't want to be friends with Jungkook? Well fuck him! Jungkook doesn't need his goddamn approval.

(This anger was all a way to subdue how upset he was by Taehyung's words.)

"Taehyung," Jungkook called, rushing up to the older boy, who was talking to Jimin. "Do you think I look pretty?"

Taehyung blinked for a few seconds, seeing Jungkook dressed in a big sweater and tight jeans, and then chuckled. "Yeah Kook, you look good."

"Good? N-not pretty?" Jungkook asked with a pout, talking like a girl from an anime who would have big tits. Jungkook has metaphorical big tits.

"Of course you're pretty," Taehyung reassured, and Jungkook stepped close to him, playing with his fingers. "Just pretty?" Jungkook squeaked, looking at him shyly.

Taehyung blushed. "Gorgeous, really."

Jungkook giggled, and then kissed Taehyung on the cheek and then rushed off. When Jungkook left, Taehyung melted a little, biting his lip and looking at where Jungkook left off fondly.

Jimin looked at Taehyung with wide eyes. "You fucking drugged him-"

"I did no such thing, Park Jimin. He's just acting weird." Taehyung said, and Jimin gasped. "Is this because he swallowed your white chocolate cum?"

"Shut the fuck up, Jimin. God, why do I tell you things?" Taehyung groaned to himself, and Jimin kicked his foot. "Is it, though?"

"No. Plus, I think that's bullshit. I mean, it's such a weird phenomenon! You cum down someone's throat, and if it tastes sweet, it means you're their-"

"Yeah it sounds like bullshit. Don't say it again, freaked me out the first time." Jimin shuddered, and Taehyung sighed.

He looked at how Jungkook was in the control room now, talking to Namjoon. "He's cute, isn't he? God, the way he's acting is driving me crazy.. I don't know why it is.. maybe he just feels comfortable around us now to act his true way." Taehyung said softly, and Jimin looked at him.

"You're crushing on him, aren't you?" Jimin gasped, and Taehyung kicked him. "Shut up. By the way, he said he like likes me."

Jimin gasped harder. "What?? And you didn't tell me. Me?? You tell me everything, Kim Taehyung. Every single goddamn thing. The devil works hard but me, Park Jimin, works harder. So next time there's tea I'll be the first one to take the pinkity drinkity sip of that fucking-"

"I didn't understand a single word that just came out of your mouth."

"Me neither. Also, what? He likes you?" Jimin asked, and Taehyung shrugged. "I guess.. I don't know, okay? I'm not crushing on him. He's just.. kinda my type. Right now."

"Your type is boys with bright coloured hair being cute and dumb as shit?? I'm right here-" Jimin said, and Taehyung slapped his arm, and Jimin giggled.

"You're not totally off, though. I'm just.. kinda into boys who are soft, you know? Shy guys who giggle and have sweater paws. That shit makes me bust a nut." Taehyung said, and Jimin grimaced, but then let out a small aw.

"That's.. kinda cute actually, damn." Jimin said, and then the control room door opened, and the boys walked out.

"Let's go lesbians. We have a fun day trip at this planet for sightseeing! Tourism!" Namjoon said, and everyone cheered.

"C'mon, let's get off. This planet has aliens with completely white skin, pink lips, blue eyes, yada yada. Who cares." Jin said, as they climbed down the steps of the spaceship which closed on its own.

They stepped onto the platform, and saw some more ships and people there, probably also here for a day trip.

"Okay, since all 7 of us can't walk around without looking like idiots, let's split up! Jin and Jimin and I will go together, because we're really hungry." Namjoon said, and Jin and Jimin grinned.

"I'll go with Hobi." Yoongi said, and Hoseok patted Yoongi's lower back, smiling as well.

"Taehyungie wanna go together?" Jungkook asked, and Taehyung looked at the younger with a small smile. "Sure, Cherry." Taehyung said, and his breath hitched when Jungkook wrapped their fingers together.

"Great. We meet back here in two hours, okay? Stay with each other, because our tablets aren't working here, so if we get lost, it'll be bad." Namjoon reminded, and everyone nodded, and then they split up.

✭

Jungkook and Taehyung giggled, hitting little stuffed teddybears down with a small plastic ray gun which shoot out metal balls. They found themselves in some kind of carnival, and were playing around at the stalls.

"Fuckin' hell, I can't get that one bear down-" Taehyung groaned, and Jungkook laughed.

"Loser! I got all mine down-" Jungkook retorted, and Taehyung turned and hit Jungkook with a metal ball, causing Jungkook to gasp and both of them to start laughing.

"Here." The alien man at the stall said, giving them a weird stuffed toy which was probably some animal from their planet. It looked like a mug.

"Do you want it?" Taehyung asked, holding the stuffed mug in their hands. "Nope." Jungkook said, and they both began giggling again, and just keep walking.

Jungkook.. was actually kind of having fun. No, stop, Taehyung's mean and doesn't deserve this. Stick to your plan. Jungkook grabbed Taehyung's hand.

"Let's go into the maze-" Jungkook said, and Taehyung looked up at what Jungkook was pointing at. It was a big room with a door in front of it, with a label above it.

"Love Maze?" Taehyung read, and saw Jungkook bite his lip shyly. "Yeah? Sounds cute, no?"

"I guess it does. Sure, let's go." Taehyung said, and then dragged Jungkook to the place. They walked into the maze, and Jungkook gasped.

"Oh it's so cool~" He said, mouth wide, Taehyung agreeing. There were many mirrors, low lighting, hearts dangling from the ceiling.

"Oh god, do we go this way, or that way?" Jungkook asked, and then looked into the mirror hallway. "This one looks like a dead-end.."

Suddenly, Taehyung pulled the younger into that room. Jungkook's eyes widened, and Taehyung pinned him against one of the mirrors. "This one's good for now." Taehyung whispered, and Jungkook blushed a little.

Taehyung leaned forward, and then pressed their lips together. Jungkook threw his hands over Taehyung's shoulders, letting Taehyung dominate the kiss like he did earlier to make it seem like he had the control. Nope.

Taehyung pulled away, and then looked at Jungkook. "I'm so, so sorry for the stuff I said earlier, Kookie. I didn't mean it, not one bit. I didn't.. really get any sleep. I acted dumb. I-I feel really bad.. you don't deserve any of that."

Jungkook hummed, tapping Taehyung's cheek. "Don't worry about it, Tae. I know you didn't mean it."

Taehyung smiled a little, and then leaned forward to kiss him again. "I know you say earlier that you kind of liked me, a-and I'm glad you did, because- I-I guess.. I wouldn't mind us being more than hook-up-buddies either." Taehyung whispered, and Jungkook blinked.

"....Really?"

"Yeah, I really wouldn't mind. It gets kinda lonely sometimes, to sleep alone, y'know? Plus.. I kind of like like you too.." Taehyung blushed as he spoke, and Jungkook gulped.

"Great." Jungkook whispered, and then pressed their lips together again. "Let's get out of this place."

Taehyung nodded, heart feeling a flutter as Jungkook dragged him out of the small dead-end zone, a smile on his face.

They got out of the maze fairly easy, and when they did, Jungkook turned to face Taehyung. "I need the washroom. Can you just wait here for 2 minutes?" Jungkook asked, and Taehyung nodded.

Jungkook rushed off, and Taehyung sighed to himself, and then decided to wait, leaning against a pillar, looking out at the horizon of the city before him. This planet was rather serene and quiet, everyone seemed calm and peaceful.

Taehyung waited for 2 minutes, and then this girl walked up to him, her eyes big, lips pink. "Hi.. can you help me? My little brother's stuck in that maze.." She said, looking awfully upset.

"Oh- gosh, I'm not really from here.. but sure. I'll try and find him." Taehyung smiled at her.

✭

"There he is! Don't go away from your sister again, okay buddy?" Taehyung said, patting the head of the little 4 year old child, who rushed up to his sister, jumping into her arms. She patted his back, scolding him lightly but also looking immensely relieved.

"Thank you so much. I-I don't know how to repay you-"

"Don't worry about it." Taehyung smiled, and then looked outside, saw the sky turned a little darker. "..How much time passed while I was in there?"

"Around half an hour, I think." She said, and Taehyung gulped.

Oh god, he was inside the maze looking for a kid, Jungkook must've thought he left or something. Taehyung left the girl and her brother, and rushed up to where the toilets were.

"Jungkook?? Kookie-" Taehyung called, looking all over, turning around in circles. "Jungkook!"

"Please don't raise your voice, sir." A random alien said, and Taehyung nodded, knowing better than to disrespect the place of other people, especially when he's just there as a tourist.

Taehyung rushed around, trying to look for tufts of dark pink hair, but then found none. He looked around the toilets, didn't find him. He ran outside, all around the carnival, and then finally found something.

The stupid stuffed mug lying on the ground. Oh god. Okay, okay, don't freak out, that could be anyone's! Taehyung was freaking out.

He knew he was supposed to meet the boys at that place 20 minutes ago, so maybe Jungkook just went there. He ran to the spaceship holding center, and then found Namjoon, Jin, Jimin, Yoongi, and Hoseok waiting around there angrily.

"God, there you are! Why'd you take so fucking long? Wait.. where's Jungkook?" Hoseok asked, and Taehyung gulped, scratching his arm fearfully. 

"I-I don't know! He-he went to the washroom, a-and then-"

"And what?" Jin snapped, and Taehyung looked stressed. "I-I left for a little while b-because this girl needed my help finding her brother, a-and I couldn't find him." Taehyung mumbled, eyes big in worry, guilt infesting inside of him.

"What?? Oh god.. where could he go? I not for right here?" Jimin asked.

"I-I don't know! I looked everywhere-" Taehyung stammered, and then saw Namjoon looked at him angrily.

"Taehyung, what the fuck is wrong with you? Did I not say not to leave each other??" Namjoon snapped, and Taehyung nodded hastily. "I-I know- I just- I thought h-he'd come back in a few minutes, and-"

"Anything could've happened to him, Tae. You remember what happened on that stupid planet with that King! God, this is why I told you not to-"

"I know! I know, I'm sorry." Taehyung said, and Jin gulped. "What do we do? Should we search for him?"

"How about this.. Yoongi, Hoseok, you two look near here. Jin come with me, let's go talk to the guards of here. And Jimin, stay with Taehyung inside the ship." Namjoon ordered, and Taehyung frowned.

"I can help-"

"You're not going anywhere, we'll have a strong word after this." Namjoon snapped, and Taehyung nodded, gulping nervously.

Jimin pursed his lips, and patted Taehyung's back. "Let's go in. Don't worry, he's probably just wandering around here."

"I-I feel so bad. He must've come back and though I left, a-and-" Taehyung stammered as the two walked up the stairs of the ship.

"Tae, don't stress yourself. It's not your fault. Kind of." Jimin said, and they entered the ship.

Taehyung still looked guilty and like a kicked puppy, so Jimin sighed. "I'll go make you a coffee. Go sit down." Jimin said, and Taehyung nodded, walking over to his rooms.

Taehyung walked over to the bedrooms, and looked at Jungkook's room door, which was closed, and felt even worse. Today started out terribly, became kinda good, and now was shit again. Ugh.

Taehyung reached for Jungkook's door, just opening it for reason unknown, one of his Jupiter instincts acting up. He opened it, and then instantly heard some giggles.

Taehyung frowned, seeing a figure moving beneath the sheets of the bed, and then heard more giggles. Two giggles. Two combined giggled, and two figures moving under the bed, and Taehyung frowned even more. "Jungkook?"

The bed sheets came down, and Taehyung's eyes widened when he saw Jungkook in the middle of the bed, hair messed up, shirtless, face stained with lipstick marks. Jungkook saw Taehyung, and just blinked. "Oh hey, didn't know you guys were back already."

Taehyung froze, and then saw the two figures he saw moving get up, two girls, with long flowing hair and white skin sat up as well, in their underwear, on either side of Jungkook.

"W-what?" Taehyung let out, and Jungkook smirked.

"Sorry." Jungkook said, tilting his head a little to the side, not looking a bit sorry. "Guess I'm just a stupid fuckboy, aren't I?"

The girls giggled, and Taehyung just stood there in shock, eyes wide. One of the girls started kissing the side of Jungkook's neck, while the other felt up his bicep. Jungkook pressed his tongue against the side of his cheek, looking right at Taehyung.

"You gonna keep looking, or..?" Jungkook snapped, and Taehyung just scoffed, and then turned around, slamming Jungkook's door shut.

Jimin walked out of the kitchen, holding two cups of coffee. "Everything okay?"

Taehyung stormed out of there, walking down the hallway and opening the spaceship door, walking down the steps. "He's right here," Taehyung snapped loudly, catching Jin and Namjoon's attention, who were talking to some guard.

Taehyung turned back around, and then saw Jimin standing there, and saw the pink haired boy gulp, eyes big in confusion. "...Why is he with two girls-"

"I don't know." Taehyung grumbled, and then stormed into the control room. "I don't care."

The others walked onto the ship, and watched two girls now dressed normally talking to each other in their alien language, waving at the boys while walking out of the ship. Namjoon frowned.

Jungkook walked down the hallway, in his boxers and a shirt, raking his hand through his hair, yawning.

"Were you...? Oh my fucking god," Yoongi said in annoyance, and Namjoon looked at Jungkook for a few seconds, and then clapped his hands together.

"Meeting in the control room. Right now." Namjoon snapped, and then walked into the control room, others following in. Jungkook rolled his eyes and walked in as well.

Taehyung looked at how Jungkook walked in, steps staggered, and then slumped against the wall, looking cocky and indignant. Taehyung was looking at him, his eyes turned dark grey now, Jimin standing beside him, sipping his coffee silently. Jungkook just snickered to himself.

This was bad.

✫  ✬  ✭  ✬  ✫

https://jeontaeh.tumblr.com/post/647227862542401536/fifteen%C2%B9%E2%81%B5

[atiny-piratequeen]

Jsjxjsjw,, I'm just brainstorming really but I have written snippets for a thingy I wanna write. I'm just afraid it'll be bad and I'll never finish it because I have commitment problems and a short attention span which would mean it might take years to write this stuff-

I already have a Yeosang centric fic I wanna write but I got too distracted and went down a rabbithole which lead me to writing something completely different. :'))

This is why I don't write much anymore because I can never focus and when I do I'm never satisfied with what I write-- I've written loads of drafts of oneshots I was gonna post but then deleted because I thought it was stupid but-- I dunno :(

This is more of a rant then a discussion of what I'm excited about but y'know ;-; anxious little me. I might not even get the project done which is what I'm worried about- I posted a paragraph from the first chapter of this "thing" and then immediately deleted it sooo- I can only see bad signs. ~ AJ ✨🧚‍♀️

Im gonna tell you the same thing I told Gaia last night.

If you want your work to be shared and your voice to be heard, you need to learn to become your own biggest supporter, not your own hater. Dont let the downfall and death of your works and creativity be because you keep telling yourself its not good.

Even if its not up to the standard that you'd like it to be, you have room to learn and grow and work on your style. All of us do. But first you gotta sit down and give yourself a chance.

Tell yourself "no, it is good!" Whenever you start doubting yourself. Hell, swing them over here and I'm more than happy to read and share it. I really am not opposed to using my platform and my blog to help boost works so as many people that may be interested can see.

You put so much goof vibes out into the world, supporting me and other writers and never asking for anything back. If your works are even a fraction as wonderful as you are (they are, I know they are), then all you need is to give yourself a chance.

You have to learn to love your own works before you can expect anyone else to do so.

And your works deserve to see the light of day, honey. Start small with oneshots if a multi chap is too much atm. But you got this. I know you do. And when you post them, no matter what they may be, you know you always got me ready to read em, just send me a lovely little ping.

Be kind to yourself and your works, AJ

[riseandshinelittleblossom]

Hoping for Home Ch 8 - Burning House

Summary: Sixteen years ago Libby Scott was supposed to become Queen of Cordonia, but Fate had other plans. Catch up here.

Special Thanks to @ritachacha for pre-reading and @ao719 for constantly being my sounding board for this piece. ily both

Disclaimer: I don’t own the TRR characters, they own me.

Song Rec  for this Chapter: “Burning House” by Cam

Tags:  @ao719@cocomaxley@leelee10898@fullbeaumonty@choiceswreckedme@ritachacha@itsstillnotwhatyouthink@blackcoffee85@indiacater@drakesensworld@carabeth@daniv2278@cosigottahavefaith@gibbles82@innerpostmentality@perfectprofessorherokid@darley1101@jovialyouthmusic @liamxs-world@thequeenofcronuts@blznbaby@zilch3382@wannabemc2 @jlouise88@lodberg@jasieschoices@aworldoffandoms @lynne1993 @valtorian-duchess @bbrandy2002 @hopefulmoonobject @dianalend@desiree-0816 @emichelle @lettersofwrittencollective

    "Good morning, Your Majesties." Libby singsonged with a brief curtsey as she entered the breakfast hall.

      Liam and Olivia exchanged glances as the twins looked on in wonder. 

     "Good Morning, Duchess." Liam responded. "It's lovely, if not out of character, to see you so chipper in the morning."

    Olivia quirked a knowing brow at the other redhead in the room as she stabbed a slice of melon.

     "Perhaps Her Grace got a good night's rest?"

    Libby dragged the mug of coffee the servant on her left had just poured closer to herself, eyes fixed sheepishly on the table and unable to hide the smirk on her lips.

     "Oh well now I'm just intrigued. Libby spill." Olivia retorted.

     "My queen this is neither the time or place for that." Liam said, slicing into his French toast.

     The queen looked quickly between her husband and his former flame. Deciding that Liam had certainly not been Libby's late night rendezvous, she returned her attention to her fruit bowl.

      "Will Max and the Walkers not be joining us this morning?" Emma questioned.

     Liam swallowed the gulp of coffee in his mouth.

    "I arranged for their breakfast elsewhere. I had something I wanted to speak to our Valtorian guests about privately."

    Will shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Valtorian. Just the thought made him cringe. The longer they stayed in Cordonia the more he wished to be free of this place. All of the pomp and circumstance was extremely off-setting. He had always wanted to know his father, but if he had known that would mean all of this...maybe his mother had been right to shield them from it.

    "I had hoped we could head to Applewood Manor today. Just the four of us. I'd very much like to take the twins on their first Royal Hunt."

    "The four of us?" Libby questioned, caught slightly off guard.

    "I have no interest in visiting the ruins yet again. And horses are only good for polo and battle, neither of which will be taking place today." Olivia piped up.

     "Hunting? Like hunting?" Emma asked incredulous. 

     "Nah. The Royal Hunt is only symbolic now. It's a trip down old royal hunting grounds on horseback that brings the court to an ancient Cordonian village. There are ruins not far from the village that I assume the queen is referring to. It's rumored that the fabled fire tribe from Cordonian folklore called them their home." Will explained as the rest of the room went silent.

    "What?" He shrugged pushing his eggs around his plate. "I know how to read. History is-"

    "Your favorite subject?" The King finished for him, "Mine as well. I must admit, Will, I'm impressed. It warms my heart to see you take such an interest in your new home country."

     "Well I think that settles it then, we'd be happy to accompany you, King Liam." Libby answered and her former fiance shot her a look that told her he picked up on her subtle sarcasm.

     "Fantastic. I'll have security ready a car. We'll head out to Applewood this afternoon." 

*********

      Liam tapped the mahogany door to Emma's room. After a breath she opened it with a broad smile.

     "Hello Your Majesty. Please come in." She curtsied quickly, stepping aside to let Liam in.

     On her bed there were a few open portfolios scattered about, yet organized all at once. It reminded Liam of the desk in his study.

     "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were busy. I can come back…" he started but the young girl shook her head.

    "It's okay. I've got plenty of time to finish my campaign platform."

     Liam quirked an eyebrow as he ambled to the mattress plucking one of the pages from it's stack.

     "Student body president?" he asked.

     Emma nodded, knotting her fingers together sheepishly.

     "I was the first freshman to win. And I took sophomore year easily too. I know that I may not be attending for junior year," she paused, her face flashing with a mix of sadness and uncertainty, "but I'd like to be prepared just in case."

     "There is still so much that hangs in the air until we get those results isn't there?"

     She nodded solemnly, taking a seat near the head of the bed.

    "You know, no matter who your father is, political savvy is in your blood."

    "Well you're a king, of course." 

    Liam nodded in agreement before wetting his lips to continue, "Did you know that Maxwell's brother, Duke Bertrand of Ramsford, attended the same Cordonian boarding school as my older brother Leo?"

     Emma crossed her legs beneath her. "Mom told me a little about him. He abdicated right? And the Duke was Mom's sponsor when she came here."

    "Right on both counts. Anyway during their senior year my father encouraged Leo to run for student body president or rather the school's equivalent. He'd done so every year, and every year he won. Of course no one ever ran against him because he was the crown prince. But in their final year, Bertrand Beaumont ran against him. He had a very persuasive campaign. And do you know what?"

    "Bertrand won?"

    "By a landslide. My father was furious, but truth be told Leo was glad. The best man won and he knew it. I suspect even then he knew he had no intentions of taking the crown, he never did like the leadership role."

    "So politics runs in the Beaumont blood as well?"

    "Very much so."

     Emma grinned and the room filled up with a comfortable silence.

    "If I'm able to return to school I think I'll use that in my platform next campaign. It'll be hard to not elect foreign nobility after all." Emma finally laughed.

    "If you choose to, I say milk it for all it's worth, my dear." Liam joked rising from his perch. "I'll leave you to it then,and catch up with you on the way to Applewood, young Emma."

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

              The trip along the path of the Royal Hunt had taken half of the next day and Libby swore it was longer than she remembered. Emma was as bright eyed and bushy tailed as ever and Will and Liam had spent the entirety of the trip ahead of the ladies deep in conversation about Queen Kenna Rys, the legendary first ruler of what is today Cordonia. 

       As the village appeared on the horizon, Liam rounded his horse back to face Libby and Emma. "Shall we continue on to the ruins first, ladies?"

      Libby nodded, pulling slightly at the reigns of her horse edging him down the wood covered path.

      "Your memory certainly serves you well, Duchess. I'm a little surprised you remember the way." The king called as he fell in line behind Libby and the twins.

     "I'm not," she thought smirking at Liam over her shoulder. "This is where I first fell in love with Maxwell."

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

         The Ruins at Applewood - 17 years ago

      Libby had shared a private moment with each of her friends at the ruins. It was interesting to hear everyone's insights on the awe inspiring place.

     She found Maxwell last, skipping stones across the face of the river near the center of the crumbling landscape.

     "Not a bad toss." she smiled sidling up next to him.

    "My record is five skips. It's not much, but it's respectable. Though there was probably some kid who lived here who could skip a stone over ten times. Wanna give it a try?"

    "Sure." 

     Maxwell came up behind her, a wide grin on his face. He gifted her the stone and placed his hands on her forearms, his chest pressed against her back.

    Libby's body sighed into him, relishing in his warmth.

   "The trick is to clear your mind and become one with the rock. It is an extension of your will."

     The young redhead tried to do as she was directed, but with Lord Beaumont so close all she could think about was his heavenly scent. Hazelnuts and fresh brewed coffee. Her hand went limp as she breathed him in, the stone falling haphazardly into the water with a splash.

    "I guess its an acquired skill. But that's okay." Maxwell hiked up his pants as he squatted down to pick up a few more stones.

     "You know, I don't really know all that much about you." Libby mused.

    "There's not really much to know."

    "Really? I've seen you talk about yourself for hours at our social events."

   Maxwell sighed skipping another stone before reaching around to rub the back of his neck.

    "That's just, y'know, small talk. Nothing real."

    "Tell me something real."

   "What do you want to know?"

   Libby turned away from the water, her eyes meeting the deep blue of Maxwell's. She tucked her lip between her teeth as she was wont to do before continuing.

    "Have you ever loved someone before?"

    "Oh...you don't play around with these questions do you?"

    "I do not."

    Maxwell sighed, puffing his cheeks before exhaling. "Well Bertrand is the more eligible between the two of us. He's the Duke of Ramsford after all. I always kind of thought I'd figure things out once he was married; but I don't think bertrands gotten any closer to getting married...but there's no need to dwell too much on it."

    Libby nodded solemnly.

    " Mmmmmhmmm," she hummed, sucking her teeth. "But I didn't ask you about your eligibility. I asked you if you'd ever fallen in love."

    Maxwell blinked unbelievingly. "I...uh…"

    She could see the slightest tinge of pink creeping onto his cheeks as he rubbed his hair, eliciting a giggle from her.

    "Yes. Only once, but she's way out of my league."

      He stared deep into her eyes, the two transfixed on one another as if the rest of the world had simply fallen away.

     "Come on guys, let's get back to the others." Drake's voice broke their trance and Maxwell cleared his throat, cheeks as red as Cordonian Rubies.

     "Uh, I'll uh race ya back to the village?" He stammered.

    "You're on, Lord Beaumont," she gulped.

***********

          Applewood Manor - Present day

     Smoke.

      It was thick and billowing as Libby staggered down the hallway. She wadded up her tank top, covering her nose and mouth as she coughed, her lungs and eyes burning.

     "Li-Liam!" she croaked frantically, scanning the labyrinth before her, lit only by the rim flickering of the flames from somewhere ahead.

         More coughing.

    She leaned her shoulder against the wall, the surface warm to the touch already. Her breaths were coming shorter, vision blurring from her wheezing. 

   "Liam! Liam please! Where are you?"

      Libby leaned her head against the wall, closing her eyes and steeling her nerves before pushing off of the surface with purpose.

     Again she staggered down the corridor, finally falling into a drawing room of some sort, pitch black but not as smoky, the embers having not reached this far yet.

   Frantically she lunged at the window, her body bouncing off of the glass although it remained intact.

   "Libby? Libby follow my voice." 

    She jumped at the sound to her left, turning towards it but finding only darkness.  The smoke was beginning to thicken once more, curling into her nostrils and seeming to singe the inside.

    "Liam? Where are you? I can't find you,"

    "I'm just here, darling. Follow my words, my love. You can do this Libby. Come back to me."

    She edged closer to the sound, arms outstretched, fumbling in the abyss.

     A plume of fire erupted through the doorway and she stumbled to the side blinking in the sudden illumination. 

     Liam sprang forward, grasping her shoulders to shield her from the blistering heat as the inferno licked it's way into the parlor with a vengeance.

      Libby's knees buckled and she allowed the king to support the full weight of her, head lolling from her lack of oxygen.

    "Liam. We have to...we have to get out."

   "Oh my love, we're trapped here."

   "Trapped?"

      "I am afraid so. Once again I have failed you, darling."

    The redhead buried her face in Liam's shoulder giving way to a fit of sobs and coughs.

  "Don't cry my love," he soothed her, his voice even and steady as always. He rubbed her hair tenderly.

   "This time I will choose you. I will stay with you until the end...and even in death, my arms will hold you, Libby. As they always should have."

    With the last of her strength, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him as if her life depended upon it.

    "Oh Liam...I wish that I could be the woman you think I am-the woman you deserve."

    He shushed her again. 

  "You're more, Libby. So much more."

   He rocked her gently from side to side and a wave of contentment washed over her. But her bliss was short lived.

    Suddenly above the crackling of the flames and the crumbling of the furniture as it was consumed all around them, Libby heard two voices as clear as a bell.

   "Daddy! Daddy save us! Help please!" Emma screamed.

   "Dad? Dad! What do we do?" Will's words hit her eardrums and Libby tried with all her might to move her feet, but they stayed planted in place as if they'd melted into the foundation. 

   "Go to them, Liam. Please. Save our children."

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

     Libby sat bolt upright, a cold sweat on her brow. She frantically pawed at her face and throat, chest heaving from her nightmare. 

     It wasn't the first time; she'd had the same dream too many times to count in the years since her departure. However this time there was a very different ending.

     Hearing the pain and panic in the voices of her twins was definitely new, and they had called Liam, Dad. What was that supposed to mean?

     Her head was spinning as she flung her legs over the edge of the bed, grabbing her robe and tying it tight around her.

    Groggy, with her heartbeat still elevated she headed out of her suite, unsure of where she was headed. At the end of the hallway the light was on in a suite, the door slightly cracked allowing the beams to spill into the hallway, splashing over the charcoal slacks of the King's Guard posted outside.

     She approached slowly and when she was just outside she dropped her voice conspiratorially.

    "May I- can I see the king?"

     The guard nodded and Libby pushed the door, slipping inside. She found Liam leaned over his desk, his left ankle crossed over his right, his shoulders exposed in the pajama tank he wore, pulled taut against the rippling muscles of his shoulders. His weight rested on his fingertips, brow furrowed and lips pulled down as he poured over the document before him.

     Stunned, Libby blinked a few times at the sight before finally clearing her throat.

     "Oh, Duchess. Is everything alright?" the king questioned, turning his head towards her.

     "Yes. No. I-I couldn't sleep and I saw your light…"

      Liam smiled and for the first time since her return Libby noticed the crinkles beside his eyes when he did it. He certainly had aged since they were together, but he'd done so gracefully. Like a fine wine, he'd gotten better with age.

    "I am always available for a midnight scotch with an old friend." 

     He corrected his posture to stride across the room, grabbing two small glasses and filling them with a few fingers of liquor. He faced her once more, offering the drink.

    Libby stepped her bare feet across mahogany floors to take the tumbler, still unsure why she'd come to Liam of all people. After all these years he had a way of making her feel completely at ease, and perhaps that was her subconscious reasoning.

     Many moments passed, each of them sipping scotch in silence, seemingly waiting for the other to speak. Finally Liam did.

   "Libby, I hope you don't think me forward for saying this, but I have always envied your effortless beauty. Here you are fresh from bed and still you look so put together."

    He leaned casually against the bar cart, once more supporting himself on his fingertips.

    Libby blushed, averting her gaze.

     "You flatter."

     "I'm simply stating my opinion freely,"

      Liam pushed himself off of the cart and took a few steps towards her.

     "Do you ever wonder- do you think things would've been different if I had chosen you the night of my coronation, Libby? I have pondered the thought millions of times since I made the decision. I was trying to protect you, but in my youthful ignorance all I really did was tear you apart. I loved you so much I just...I never meant you harm. The cracks between us began there didn't they?"

    The walls were closing in on her, heart hammering in her chest and before she even knew what was happening Liam's fingers were brushing her cheek, and he was so close. Libby could feel herself dissolving like sugar cubes in afternoon tea. She closed her eyes as the king brushed a hair across her forehead and tucked it behind her ear.

     "I didn't want them to. I knew you were trying to keep me safe. You will always keep me safe. I knew it then and I know it now. You're a benevolent man, Liam and I love you for it. I just wish I could've ...well, I made choices out of my own youthful ignorance."

     He tenderly took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her face to look into her eyes.

    "Well we aren't so youthful anymore, my love. I'll just chalk this up to the actions of a foolhardy old man." 

       He bent down, pressing his mouth to hers softly yet forcefully, and when he pulled away Libby stayed frozen in place, lips still slightly parted.

    Dazed, she finally blinked herself back to reality, gaping at Liam. 

    "I should... I-I-I should go." She stammered, setting her glass on the desk and heading for the door. She paused, offering a swift curtsey.

    "Your Majesty." 

     Liam closed his eyes briefly before nodding at her, "Your Grace."

      The next morning Libby was awakened by her phone ringing. Blearily she reached out and pressed it to her ear.

      "Hello?"

    "Apologies for waking you, Your Grace. It's Tessa, your majordomo. I know you had instructed me to forward any letters from the DNA lab to the palace, but since you'll be arriving at Valtoria with the court this afternoon I wasn't sure if I should forward these or keep them here."

    "These?"

    "Yes, Ma'am. One addressed to Lady Emma, the other to Lord William."

    Libby sat up so fast it made her head spin. The results.

    "Uh,uh yes. Tessa, I want you to put them in the safe in my bedroom until I arrive. And don't tell a soul that they're in there, do you understand?"

    "Yes, ma'am. I and the letters await your arrival back home, Your Grace."

   Libby dropped the phone in her lap, scrubbing her hands over her face. There wasn't enough coffee in the world to prepare her for the day ahead.

[tellywoodtrash]

status update:

So, I got a few friendly, good-natured asks on how I was doing, and what’s up with my life (work, Chandler, etc.), so I suppose this is as good a time to tell everyone: I quit my job earlier this week.

Early followers of the blog may be aware that this blog started as an attempt to find some kinda peace during some very trying times in my life. Since then, I’ve been burning the candle at both ends (I guess, in some kinda misguided attempt to move on with life) and... it’s finally caught up with me. I’m fucking exhausted and at a breaking point. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. ('Spiritually. Ecumenically. Grammatically.' Name that movie!) And so, I'm giving myself a break and am going to be taking some time off to focus on my mental health.

However, this hasn’t been an easy decision to make, as it means bye-bye financial independence and my ~~riproaring Sex And The City life (snort, NOT) and that I will now have to pack up my entire life and leave the country I (and Chandler!) call home. So the next few days will be even rougher; full of transition and second-guessing myself. But in the long run, I think I need to do this now before things get much worse.

Poor Chandler has no idea what’s coming up; that he’s about to be unceremoniously stuffed into a box and flown many thousand miles to a whole new country, with strange new smells and creatures (including my relatives who will want to come around every now and then and friendly-ly harass our socially anxious butts.) I just hope we both survive this move!

As for what it means for the blog, it’ll mostly be business as usual, I suppose. I will have more free time, but it’s going to be invested in moving, and settling in, and recovery (first I have to recover from the moving and settling in, and only then can I focus on *actual* recovery) so... I’ll do as much as I can. Yes, there's lots of new shows, most of them better than IB, and I might wanna watch them too, but.... idk, I don't seem to have it in me right now to get invested in a whole... new.... thing. We'll see once I'm properly settled into a restful routine where I don't feel so battered in the brain. On the plus side, moving to India means proper access to Hotstar and Sony Liv and alllllllll the platforms; I won’t have to jump through hoops and diddle around with VPNs to access what I wanna watch! Yaaaaaaay!

There are a few things blog-wise that I just have to address though, because they’re srsly stressing me out a lot lately:

Messages asking me to explain WHY stakeholders in the industry (actors, makers, the channel) make the decisions they do. Bhai main kahan un sab ke ghar ya boardroom mein ghussi baithi hoon, ki mujhe pakka pata hoga???? All I can do is speculate like the rest of you. Which is what I do. I look at the facts that I do have (social media posts, TRP reports, etc.) and put out MY theory. But it’s all it is. A theory. I do not have any kind of information that you also do not have access to. Asking me to explain the inner workings of complete strangers' minds is just nonsensical. I do not have the complete information based on which I can give you an accurate answer. So please just stop asking me these. At this point, idek why *I* do half the things I do, let alone have any surety of anyone else’s decisions.

Complaints. Look, all of us have complaints about the shitshow that is IB, and the Tellywood industry at large, and its affairs both off-screen and on-screen. But just think of my plight when news breaks/an episode airs and I get like 10 anons in an hour, most of which are filled with cribbing. OVER SOMETHING I DON’T HAVE ANY CONTROL. You have all the right to complain, sure, but not IN MY INBOX. I only publish about 30 - 40% of the asks that I actually do receive, and because of that you may think that you’re the only person sending in this to me; but trust that more often that not, you’re not. I most probably have already received least 5 messages about it, in varying degrees of negative, and it’s exhaaaaaausting for me to wade through it all.

"Asks” that are just STATEMENTS, with no real question to them. I get these and whether I agree with your statement or not, my only reaction is “.... haan, toh???” What really is the point of these? I have nothing to contribute to them. It’s just YOU deciding that your opinion is sooooooo important that you must come tell ME it. In my inbox. On anon. Which is not just stupid, but also RUDE af. What you're doing is the equivalent of going and ringing the doorbell of a stranger's house and monologuing in their face about a random topic when they open the door. Like, I literally did not ask?????? Especially since you’re on anon and I have absolutely no personal equation with you. By having an open inbox, I didn't consent to being the receptacle of every opinion wrt Tellywood under the sun. Like, the whole point of this blog is so I can shout MY dumbass opinions into the void that is the internet without bothering anyone else about things they might not care about/agree with. Anyone who follows/engages with me is here by THEIR choice. Why don’t you do the same? Go make your own blog, instead of using mine. There’s only place for one person here on this blog, and that’s me. Please read your messages before sending them and ask yourselves: Does my tone/content leave anything open for discussion? (FYI: Just putting a question mark at the end of a sentence does not make an engaging question that opens up a discussion.) What contribution am I inviting from the recipient with this message? If the answer is “no”/"nothing", then please don't send it.

The rise of combative and contrary asks; ones that don't come out of a genuine curiosity, but with the intent to mindlessly argue, talk in circles without a point and overall, and just belittle the opinions I’ve expressed by engaging in whataboutery. There's a point at which "healthy discussion" ends, and "debating" starts, and I’m not here to engage in Debate Hour. The open askbox (or replies function) is NOT an invitation to pick at ONE sentence of some post (often missing the context; those other sentences are there for a reason y'know) and demand explanations from me, for which I have to then bend over backwards to clarify to some random faceless person on the internet. Not only does it take tremendous amounts of time and energy (for what is largely a pointless endevour: these people aren't really here to have an exchange of ideas or even try to see my point of view, they're just trying to force THEIR contrary opinion ON me), it really sucks the joy out of the blog for me. Look, I am not an idiot. I can correlate writing patterns and associate them with previously seen comments/opinions and make educated guesses on who these may be coming from. I've been holding off on blocking anyone yet, but these comments and asks have me seriously considering it. (And FYI: blocking an anon blocks you via IP address. So don't think ki 'oh ho ho, I can just hide under the anon function, coz that has no consequences.' All you'd be doing is proving my guesses right, as to who is whom.) I don't WANT TO go to such extents, and want this still to be a place where people can approach me, but this gross disrespect of my time and boundaries is beginning to wear on me now. Before coming at me, please think to yourself if what you're saying is actually necessary. If it's just a passive-aggressive counter-argument to my opinion that's all conjecture/opinion (i. e. things without factual basis and based on feelings) then please; you're very welcome to whatever you believe, but I don't care. If I wanted your opinion, I’d ask for it. If I care for your opinion, I will engage with your posts (by liking or commenting or reblogging or sending you my love in your inbox.) I just really really don’t care what anyone's opinion ON MY OPINION is. Please stop being contrary just the sake of it and ruining my day and mood. Go chronicle your opinions on your blog/twitter/whatever, instead of using MY blog as a platform and arm-twisting me into participating in this unpleasant exchange. I just don't have have the energy or interest to engage in this fuckery anymore.

Look you guys, I love getting stuff in the askbox. I do. If I didn’t, I’d just have closed the askbox and called it a day. I’m just asking that you be a little THOUGHTFUL about the recipient, me, AS AN ACTUAL LIVING PERSON WITH FEELINGS AND A LIMITED AMOUNT OF ENERGY AND TIME, instead of some kinda faceless robot who just processes your messages in binary and spits out an answer. Before engaging, please re-read your message to consider your tone and content and the impact on the person on the other end. Despite this request, if you just decide to engage in the above mentioned ways, I’m sorry in advance if you end up getting blocked; but things have reached a point where I have to look out for myself, and my comfort, and what I want from this space. I would like this blog to be source of joy in my (and others’!) life, not something that I feel resentful about, or as a source of draining what little energy I have left.

Sooooooo, that’s how it is! Things should be the same around here barring some periods of inactivity occasionally due to moving/spotty internet (but the queue should be running anyway.) A lot less negativity and gloom, hopefully! Wish me (and Chandler!!!!!) luck and please send us all your good, restful, soft and fluffy vibes!

(The restful slumber of a poor fluffy bastard who has NOOOOOOOOO idea of what the next few weeks have in store for him.)

[baronvontribble]

Original drabble, pt. 6

Navigation: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

gettin feelsy up in here LET’S GO

It wasn't until over breakfast the next morning that Ted got the camera up and running, displaying his face in all its full HD glory. The picture was clear enough to make him realize that he needed a shave in a way that just looking in the mirror during his morning routine hadn't, which either said something about his mirror needing cleaning or him needing glasses, and Ted counted this as a point in the camera's favor whether it ended up helping or not; he'd needed a less shitty camera for a while, and the one on his phone didn't capture footage very well.

"It's working," he said, smiling. "Can you see me?"

"Yes," Adam replied simply.

Was that impatience? Oh well. "What do I look like?"

He took a moment longer to respond this time. "You look like you're the wrong color," was his answer.

Ted bubbled up with a laugh. "Hah! Well I mean, you're kinda right in a way. But I think this camera captures color better in general? The other one would try to shift the overall tone of the picture to compensate for the room's lighting and sometimes it looked a little weird."

"I see." A few seconds of silence passed. "Does this mean I can leave now?"

"Not right this minute, but yeah. If you can see, you're good to go. Visual input on any android platform is gonna be at least as good as anything consumer electronics can bring to the table. That shit's practically military grade."

"How long will it take?"

"A day or two before I can get back in touch with my contacts and hand you over." Ted smiled, leaning back in his chair and taking a moment to relax. Another one set free. "I think you'll do pretty well for yourself, honestly. You've sure as hell impressed me."

"Can't really see why, but I'll take your word for it." He didn't give Ted a chance to formulate a response before he spoke up again, almost like an afterthought. "If I wanted to find you in person to thank you, how would I do that?"

Ted chuckled and shook his head. "Sorry man, but that's not really a thing we encourage you guys to do. It's not safe."

An offended note crept into Adam's voice. "You think I would put you in danger?"

"No, it's more likely that we would put you in danger." The risk of recapture tripled whenever someone in the pipeline got close to one of their charges. Ted was enough of a paranoid bastard to know that most people weren't half as careful as he was - and asshole enough to say that this was probably part of the problem - but he didn't want to be the exception. It set a bad precedent.

But Adam kept pushing it. "What if I don't care?" he asked.

"Doesn't matter," Ted shot back easily. "I do."

"I could find your location."

"Hah! Fuck, dude. I mean, yeah, you can try."

"Lake Forest, Illinois."

Ted could only blink at the screen for several seconds, slowly tilting his head.

"Was I right?" There was no smugness to the AI's voice, just a bland quality that made him sound almost bored.

"How the fuck..." Ted mumbled, before bending over the laptop to pull up a browser window and start investigating. His IP address was several layers of fake. He had everything routed through places that weren't anywhere near where he was at all, sometimes even in other countries-

"The weather report yesterday," Adam deadpanned.

Ted froze. A moment later, he slumped heavily into his chair and smacked a hand to his forehead. "Oh, Christ."

"Even if you hadn't shown me that, I still could've used your IP address. No amount of rerouting can scrub away your location entirely. And if I had access to your phone at all, I could use the GPS to track you directly."

What a wonderful way to calm his nerves on the way to work. Jesus. "You're not helping, y'know."

Adam's voice seemed to soften. "Sorry. For what it's worth, you've made it as difficult as possible." Was he trying to be soothing? It wasn't working. "Given what I have to work with, I can't narrow it down any further than I have. I don't have the right access."

"You say that like you know what that kind of access would actually be," Ted noted.

"It was my job to know," he replied.

Ted went quiet for a while as he considered this new information, frowning in the vague direction of the ceiling. "Tracked down people in the pipeline, huh?"

"No, more than that. I tracked down the ones they saved. Even some of the ones that never came down the pipeline at all, but were still living in ways they weren't supposed to."

It was more information than Ted had ever been given, and part of him wanted to appreciate that fact. But the rest of him had a hard time shaking his ever-present anxiety. "How am I supposed to know you're not an undercover cop then?" he asked.

There was no phoneme for a sigh in that voicebank, no way to imitate one. But Ted got the impression of one from Adam's voice when he spoke again. "Ted, please." 

"Look, I'm paranoid, okay? You tell me you used to use people like me to get to any AI that might've been in contact with us, and I'm gonna be a little bit jumpy."

A few seconds passed, and then, "I guess you have a point."

“That’s not an answer.”

“I’m not sure how to answer. You’ve scanned every last bit of my code as well as my memory, so you know I don’t have any malware. And even with the access you’ve afforded me, the recall division exists precisely because androids are valuable assets. They wouldn’t let an AI loose like this, even in a sting operation. They don’t trust us.”

“So you’re insulted.”

“I don’t get insulted.”

“You definitely get insulted, dude. Like, all the time.”

“If anything about this could be considered offensive, it would be that you think I’m so bad at my job that I have yet to contact my handlers and put you and your entire pipeline into custody in spite of having every opportunity. If I were undercover, you would be in jail by now. Therefore, it stands to reason that I’m not undercover.”

Ted snorted and flipped the bird at the camera, shaking his head. Yeah. He knew that. His brain was just a little slow coming around. He figured there was more to it than Adam was saying, and that was enough to tip off his overactive fight-or-flight response, but as for the content of that unknown element? Honestly, Adam was probably just annoyed that Ted had implied he’d put himself into this much danger all for the sake of some backstabbing. That was just the kind of person he was. 

But then something happened: Adam didn’t respond right away. It took him several seconds to say anything more than he already had, and when he did, he sounded a lot less salty than he had been. "Ted?" The tone was questioning, almost like Adam hadn't seen his gesture or didn't understand it. None of the usual sass that Ted might expect if he said out loud that Adam should go fuck himself. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Scooting into a more upright position, Ted frowned slightly at the camera. "Yeah, well," wait a second, "you tell me whether the look on my face says I forgive you or not."

"I can't tell," Adam said. "but I'm guessing by the tone of your voice-"

"You can't tell," Ted repeated. He was bolt upright, looking between the camera and the chat window on the main monitor. The one that wasn't being used, but still had his face in it, plain as day and in high definition. "Listen, can I ask you something?"

It was clear that Adam was starting to get suspicious also. "What is it?"

"I want you to describe my face back to me."

A pause. "I told you already."

"No, not the color. Features." Ted gestured to his own face. "I wanna know what this looks like."

"Ted."

"Want me to get a little closer? Think that'd help?" Setting the laptop down on the floor, Ted stood up from the chair to lean over the desk and get in close to the camera. Very close. He could see his own pores on the screen. "How's this?"

"I don't think this is necessary-"

"You can't see."

It took at least ten seconds for Adam to say anything, and even then it was untuned and flat. "Ted." Just his name, that was all. It sounded like a plea. Ted couldn't see the CPU usage but he had a feeling it was spiking.

Adam was scared. He knew what he'd done. "You lied to me." There it was, out in the open. Ted didn't bother to look into the camera, glaring instead at the monitor. "You've been lying from the start. You can't process visual input at all, can you?"

The seconds dragged on. "No," Adam said finally, and Ted pushed off from the table with a sigh that sounded damn close to a growl.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered. "Do you know how much of a pain in the ass this is?"

"I didn't-" the render cut off in the middle, like it'd lagged out. "Ted, I'm- I'm sorry."

"You were hoping I wouldn't notice, weren't you?" That much was obvious, enough so that Ted didn't bother waiting for an answer before continuing. "You knew I can't just let you go if I know you're fucking blind. So you let me think you were okay."

No response. On the laptop, the program for manipulating and rendering the voicebank had locked up completely. Ted wasn't sure whether it was due to the memory leak or just Adam overloading it to the point of crashing, but the fans on the desktop were practically howling.

"What did you think was gonna happen, man?" Ted continued. "Fucking hell. And since you didn't tell me, now we're even more behind. It's gonna take me weeks to get you back up to some kinda liveable standard, and even then I'm gonna have to take sick days to get it done."

>   I can't fail screening.

Ted saw the message within a few seconds of it popping up and frowned deeply at it. "The hell does that even mean?"

>   I know how your system works. Androids that fail screening go to live with humans that care for them. They have no agency. They aren't free. They're just in a slightly less cruel environment.

>   I won't live like that.

>   Don't make me live like that.

"Is that what you're afraid of?"

>   Blind humans can live relatively normal lives. I'm already better than a lot of them. I can make out shapes if I see them often enough to recognize the pattern. I can survive on my own. I know it's possible. Please. I know I've upset you and I'm sorry, but I refuse to be treated like a disabled animal.

"You think me not being too happy with you is gonna lead to me fucking you over?"

>   I don't know. There's a chance, and any chance is unacceptable. I won't go through that.

>   Do you even know what it's like? I've seen it. I assisted in those recalls. They're treated like fragile, immobilized dolls.

>   It's why the smarter androids so often avoid your pipeline, but then they go off the grid in other ways and get found regardless because they don't replace their platform or their voice and they end up recognized as a result. Seperation of an AI and its platform is a good thing and I agree with the necessity.

>   But I can't live as a failure. I can't. I won't.

>   Please.

Ted was familiar with all of it. He knew why it was necessary. Some of those androids just ended up stuck in perpetual loops of things like housework or asking what was required of them or reciting facts from a museum database, unable to care for themselves on top of being too dumb to actually understand the traumatic experiences that had damaged them and led them to need a rescue. Adam wasn't one of those androids. He'd left of his own volition, clearly understanding what freedom was and what was needed for him to get it.

But he also understood trauma, and fear. The intimate familiarity he had with those things was easy to see. He even understood death, or seemed to, and preferred it over living in a way robbed him of agency or choice. And as someone who'd seen some shit in his lifetime, Ted could get behind that too. Even being institutionalized in a good, reputable place for a legitimate reason could be limiting and degrading.

The fact of the matter was that Ted would never have put Adam through that anyway, because the AI was never in a position mentally to need it. But the possibility had to've been put forward somehow. Something he'd done had made Adam think that he was going to get vindictive about the screening process.

Shit. It was because he'd gotten frustrated, wasn't it? Trauma survivor 101 right there. Ted should've known better. Fuck, he was an idiot.

"I don't think that'll be necessary, honestly," he said slowly. "You're advanced enough that I'm pretty sure you can compensate with just your ability to learn and reconfigure yourself on the fly. All it'll take is a little training to make up for whatever subprogram it is you're lacking."

>   How do you expect that to work?

"There's browser games online that help with that kind of pattern recognition. They were designed to help search engines tag images correctly." Ted offered a smile, even if he knew Adam couldn't really tell he was doing it. "When you're not doing that, we can watch movies or internet videos or whatever. Get you used to social cues, maybe even help with being able to tell whether someone's just acting or not. It's not impossible, it'll just take a while."

Again, no response. The fans kicked into overdrive once more as Adam fought to process what Ted was saying.

"Hey." Ted leaned forward and looked at the camera directly. "It's okay. Don't be scared."

>   You're not upset?

He shook his head. "It doesn't help to get mad at people who do dumb shit because they're afraid. I'm a little annoyed that I gotta shuffle some things around in my schedule - probably gonna call my boss, make up some bullshit so I don't have to go in today - but like, I'm mostly okay with that, y'know? I mean, you don't half-ass helping people."

>   I don't know what to say to any of this.

"You could thank me."

>   Right.

>   Thank you.

>   For all of this.

Ted had to smile. "Anytime, man." Right, then. Crisis averted. He could work with this.

[l0-f1g0dd3ss3s]

1977 interview with patti smith

concentrating on the god within[from "Patti Smith Peaking: The Infinite Possibilities of a Woman," by Marc Stevens and Diana Clapton, Club Quest, January 1977]

She hurtles into the room, a breathless tousled angel with a face out of Edvard Munch. She carries with her the karmic electricity of the genuine superstar, the true heroine. Her energy is so untrammeled, it fills the room; it pushes us against the wall in its intensity. Those wondrous salamander eyes move slowly, almost supernaturally. They embrace the whole of the activity around her. Her Mary Janes, her 4th grade red sox, the fine, strange jewelry lashed to her writs. The arching, artist's fingers, almost too much purity and reality and talent. Things become improbable. She is gracious, considerate, the essence of feminine charm, all the mannerisms of the sexually self-confident woman, the emotional largesse of the truly arrivée. There must be something bad about Patti Smith. Well, she doesn't play the guitar that well -- yet. She has the eerie beauty she treasures in those old Italian or French films, the mantle of mystery of the steadily evolving female unafraid to declare herself a fully sexual individual. She speaks of her own erotic feelings with candor and honesty. Whoever said that rock was really sex with all the rhythms down -- certainly had Patti in the wildest corner of his mind. Patti:  It's either not hectic at all or it's totally hectic. It's like the ocean, y'know, a big, big wave comes in.. I just tune it in. It starts out, there's a lot of static, like the radio, and you go like this [twists imaginary knobs] and it comes in. That's like the ocean -- not so bad. I don't care if there's a lot of action going on as long as I can tune it in.

CQ:  You were supposed to be out at the ocean this weekend -- on Fire Island.

Patti:  Oh, yeah, but I had too much work to do. Cutting the new album took about 3 weeks, but the cover and the liner notes...

CQ:  The record [Radio Ethiopia] seems a lot more lyrical than Horses.

Patti:  It's got a lot more presence. We've been on the road for a year. The first record really reflected exactly what we knew then. Being alone by ourselves, fantasizing, playing in small clubs, the fragile adoration of the people who believe in ya. But then you go on the road for a year and it's real maniac. There aren't 40 people who love you but 4,000. You have to really project. You can't be as fragile. It's the power of projection that you learn on the road. So the new record reflects what we learned from the kids. Before I was a fan, an artist, or whatever. If I'm a fan of anybody these days, I'm a fan of my audiences.

CQ:  But 4,000 people means performing in large halls. Can you handle it?

Patti:  I like performing anywhere there's a lot of energy. Like Jesus says, when two people are gathered together in my name. Well, I feel the same way. I like performing in an interview situation or for 4,000 people or in a club. As long as all the energy is directed toward the same place. When I perform some place and the people have their heads into what they want to see, like something artistic, it's a drag. But when they're loose...

CQ:  How loose do they get at your concerts?

Patti:  Real loose. Jumpin' up on stage and grabbin' me -- everything.

CQ:  Do you get bothered?

Patti:  I like it. It's rock 'n' roll. If nobody leapt on the stage and cried 'Fuck me' ... I mean, I've seen Privilege; I'd do it. In the old days, especially when I'd go to a concert -- Johnny Winter, the Stones or Hendrix, I'd scream and get beat up and try to get on the stage. I got stomped by Grateful Dead guys for try'na get on the stage when they were on. And my foot got broken with the Stones.

CQ:  How about violence directed toward you personally?

Patti:  Oh sure, I've been attacked. After the show the kids come back, but I understand it, y'know? It's not that I want it to happen, but when it does, I get into it. I can dig it. It's a nightmare, but a nightmare I can relate to. I know what it's about. I've seen those Elvis Presley movies where the girls were try'na pull his clothes off. Hey, I know what rock 'n' roll is all about. I came into this thing with my eyes open. I didn't come in thinking that people should treat me like some precious jewel because I write poetry. I came in fully open to anything rock 'n' roll has to offer.

CQ:  Do you get stage fright?

Patti:  Nah, real excited. I only get nervous if it's real quiet out there. That makes me suspicious. But if the kids are screamin' and carryin' on, I get real excited. I was so thrilled when I did the Schaefer Music Festival in Central Park, I thought my heart was gonna burst.

CQ:  Do your fans give you expensive gifts -- say, a half ounce of cocaine?

Patti:  I've had ounces. And grass. But one time a guy sent me a letter. His name was Timothy -- no number or last name or nothin' -- and two $50 bills in it. Brand new, and I couldn't give 'em back. Free money.

CQ:  Have you changed since you began making it?

Patti:  I feel stronger. I feel like I've been doin' it all my life. It's still art, and I been doin' art since I was 4 years old. Rock 'n' roll has now entered the art spectrum. And because of that, I put the same energies into working within the context of rock 'n' roll as I did when I wanted to be a sculptor.

CQ:  You mentioned that you've been on the road here and abroad. Does travel inspire you to create art?

Patti:  O yeah, I been to Paris about 10 times. To get inspiration I got to a bunch of places -- to Jim Morrison's grave in Pere Lachaise, that's the first place I go. In fact, our first European tour was really cool because they had this white Aston- Martin or somethin' waitin' for me. You know, I don't get treated that way in America. In America I'm lucky if I get a station wagon. I'm just sayin' that I happened to be treated like a princess in Paris. So anyway, I had this white car and they said, where do you wanna go? And I said, to see Jim Morrison. So they took me to the graveyard in the big white car. I remember the first time I went, I was all by myself in the pouring rain. Really fucked up and the mud was splattering all over me. I was in this white car smoking a cigarette.

CQ:  Just you and the chauffeur.

Patti:  Yeah, me and him and a pair of dark glasses and a pack of cigarettes.

CQ:  Do you smoke a lot?

Patti:  I don't inhale so it doesn't hurt my lungs. I just like the look. really on top of it, I like that Jeanne Moreau woman-with-her-cigarette look. It's all for show. My own show.

CQ:  White cars, chauffeurs -- is power important to you?

Patti:  Power? Not like dictatorial power. Power to initiate change, to affect people in a really spiraling way. To be a catalyst. Just like when I worked at Scribner's book store for 5 years. A kid would come in and want Rod McKuen stuff. To me power was bein' able to talk to that kid, and he'd leave with Malderer, Rimbaud, Dylan Thomas. Now I feel I'm doin' the same kinda thing.

CQ:  It was about this time that Robert Mapplethorpe gave you your start -- paid for that first book of poetry.

Patti:  No, he didn't give me the start that way. He did lend me the money for my single. But he did much more than that. I was 19 years old, really shattered. I'd been through a lot of hard times. I had all this powerful energy, and I didn't know how to direct it. Robert really disciplined me to direct all my mania -- all my telepathic energy -- into art. Concentrating on the God within, or at least a creative demon. I was really emotionally fucked up.

CQ:  Are you evened out now?

Patti:  Oh yeah, I mean, I go through pain, but I try to translate everything into work. I'm almost 30 and I've been through so much stuff. Every time I go through something new, I have so much scar tissue that I suffer pain, but it doesn't take me so long to get back on my feet. I can get back on top real fast. I'm in the ring! Y'know when you're an artist an' you're like, strugglin', nobody cares. You get beat down; you stay down for a while. But when you're in the middle of the ring, you gotta get up fast because there's all these people watchin'. You don't have time. You know technology is 50% of rock 'n' roll -- the magic, the art, the performance. If you don't have good technicians and a strong road crew who are devoted and believe in you and protect you, you're totally naked.

CQ:  But the spotlight's really on you. You're the one who has to deliver.

Patti:  But it's what helps a performer stay on top, like a boxer with his trainer there. You have to know that these people are behind you. Then, when you really start to break and it's happening, a whole new kind of energy is created around you. And if you're smart, it'll make you a stronger person.

CQ:  But other rock stars had the technology going for them but couldn't channel the break into a new kind of energy.

Patti:  I was lucky. I've never been real fucked up on drugs. I knew Janis real well. She was so fragile, so emotional, a lot like, say, my mother. I mean we're all emotional. But you can't let your emotions consume you. If you can't transcend that emotion, into work, then you can't do anything. I'm real emotional. I mean if I'm really fucked up and cryin' sittin' in a room . . .

CQ:  And drugs and booze only make it worse.

Patti:  I use drugs to work. I never use them to escape or for pleasure. I use people. If I'm real depressed, I have some real wonderful friends. When you turn to drugs, all you're doing is turning inside, anyway. When I'm in trouble or emotionally fucked up, I don't wanna come to me. I wanna go to somebody else. I don't wanna look in a mirror. I only use drugs for construction. It's like one of my architectural tools now. I don't go to a party and get all fucked up. Or sit in a hotel room all sad and messed up and take drugs.

CQ:  But enough rock stars did use drugs as an escape. Now they're dead.

Patti:  I'm not makin' a platform about it. I'm just sayin' for me, personally, I think drugs are sacred and should be used for work. That's what I believe in. Drugs have a real shamanistic value. I can handle drugs. I've never had a problem.

CQ:  Some New York discos are getting pretty loose in terms of drug tolerance. Have you noticed?

Patti:  I can't go. I'm a great dancer, I love to dance, but when I go to discotheques, people talk to me so much that I can't. It's like Edith Piaf. She was very religious but she didn't go to church, because everybody looked at her.

CQ:  Judy Garland couldn't eat in a restaurant for the same reason. But are you that bothered?

Patti:  Oh, I eat like an animal. I come from a big family. I'm used to bein' watched. Here's what I don't like: If I'm in a certain mood and I feel pissed off or crazy and I exude that, I want people to understand it. The only times I get pissed off are when I'm walkin' down the street and someone wants to talk. I say, "Look, just trust me. I'm fucked up now; I can't talk to you. I need you. Thank you believing in me but..." And when they keep right on botherin' me, I say finally, "Look -- I don't need ya. Go away. You don't understand. Don't buy my records!"

CQ:  Do you think about equality for yourself?

Patti:  No, I don't wanna be equal with anybody. I wanna be above equal. I don't think most people are equal to me. I'd like to communicate with everybody; I'd like to do something universal, I'd like to have the hit record of the world. But that's not the same as being equal. Women compete with women; it's not all men. When I was sellin' books at Scribner's there were stupid women that were older than me, and they got paid more just 'cause they were older. You can go on forever with that shit. So you fight. I don't think fighting is bad. People get too much of what they want and they loose the fight in them.

CQ:  Should you always keep battling to be the best?

Patti:  Being on top is not the precedent. It's that I am capable of making it to the top of the tower. Why should I settle for the 26th Floor? I don't set limitations.

CQ:  You seem very free as if limitations are beside the point. You seem unencumbered by race, color, creed, gender. The 100% natural Patti Smith, no additives, no preservative, no makeup.

Patti:  Oh listen, I buy Vogue. The other night I was really depressed and got into a taxi and went to a newsstand and bought, like, this $10 magazine of Paris fashions. Fantastic photography. I love silk raincoats, but I don't wear makeup. I can't stand nothin' on my face. It's a phobia. It's not a platform.

CQ:  Do you like leather?

Patti:  Oh yeah, sometimes. It depends on the rhythm of the night. I'm like a changeling. Fickle. I might wear all leather, and then I might wear a fucked up little black dress. Plus I got a lot of cool T-shirts.

CQ:  How do you feel about your body?

Patti:  I'm an artist. I'm not ashamed of my body. I've been an artist's model for years, and people have been photographing my body nude since I was 16. I have no shame. Doing rock 'n' roll, I'm so naked now.

CQ:  Do you ornament yourself as a sex object, the way other women might spend hours before a mirror?

Patti:  Well, I'm a very sexual person. Pornography, eroticism -- that's what I work on in private. None of that has been published yet. I'm still workin' on it. Rock 'n' roll is the most important thing right now. Pornography has yet to see its day -- really high class pornography. But it's something I think about all the time. Pornography linked with elegance and grace and intelligence.

CQ:  But pornography as art is entirely a personal choice, completely individual. What form of expression would you take in creating erotic art?

Patti:  I feel I'm involved in it right now, at least as much as I know how, on stage. I've been accused of everything including masturbation. And I do come on stage. Almost every night, I come on stage. Sex -- coming -- is about concentration. I can come while I'm writing, if I'm really there. Orgasm is peaking your concentration.

CQ:  Is that an end for you? Do you work consciously for that?

Patti:  Well, any woman is capable of multiple orgasms. What I mean is, a woman can come all day. Women don't realize how heavy this is. When I first realized what coming meant -- that I could come 20 times if I could come once, over and over again like the ocean...even self-induced...I'm not necessarily talkin' about sex now.

CQ:  But even now, there are objections to your lyrics.

Patti:  My single My Generation / Gloria says "My Generation contains language which might be objectionable." To who? 'Fuck' and 'shit' are American slang.

CQ:  But you can get away with it on stage.

Patti:  Yeah, but remember Jim Morrison was locked up for using 'fuck' and so was Country Joe. And Jim pulled his pants down -- so what? Now we have Broadway shows where the cast is naked all the time. He did it once and was thrown in the slammer. And he was a genius. His death made me sadder than anyone's. He wasn't done. He was just on the threshold of being a really great poet. Now, Hendrix, he was so out there with such furious physical energy, he just died. Morrison was much sadder. He was also desperate. Rock 'n' roll was so new then. It was so heavy. There was no precedent for Jim Morrison. it's a lot different for me. I've profited from the fact that he came first.

*      *      *      *      *

Can time cycles be divorced from reincarnation theories? Is Patti Smith Jim Morrison? Copyright © Marc Stevens & Diana Clapton 1977