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#i may not be able to donate so much this paycheck though... /':
femmefaggot · 7 months
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can you all wish for me to be able to get extra sauces at wendys? thank you.
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luvtonique · 6 days
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I feel like my artist career might be nearly over.
Now mind you, not because I'm burnt out, or because of some kind of controversy, but entirely because I don't know how much longer I can keep trying to push forward with it.
I don't hate my art, I don't even dislike it. It's my passion, and I want my entire life to be a life or creating art and telling stories.
I love sharing what I create with the world and I love having support from my fanbase.
But as of right now, I just can't get anyone noticing anything I do.
I've been working on a video game for almost a full year now, have gameplay footage I've shown, sprite animations, story I've shown off, characters I've been drawing and describing and giving backstories, and I get like 20 notes tops on anything I post.
I do streams for an average of 5 viewers every Monday and Wednesday and Friday. 5 viewers.
I have had a fundraiser to get me out of California because I can't afford to live here, I'm disabled, and I have a 75yo mother and an autistic brother I'm trying to get out of here too, and I barely scraped together $3000 of donations over the last year.
I pour my heart and soul into music that I've been writing and I'm met with backlash or people flat out ignoring the songs I post because people say my lyrics I write aren't worthy of notice or a paycheck. Soundcloud outright denied my ability to monetize my music. Completely. I am no longer able to request monetization.
The state of California has spent the last 15 years denying my attempts to get SSI, state disability, any kind of social security for my rheumatoid arthritis, and I even got told by a disability lawyer that they had to decline my case because I don't take medication for my disability. When I told them I don't have medical insurance because I don't qualify for MediCAL, they said that isn't their problem.
I watch other artists with 170,000 followers on Twitter bashing me and saying I don't deserve my fanbase for reasons they're just making up, and when I try to defend myself they just bash me harder and block me while I'm over on Twitter with like 300 followers and not getting noticed by anyone.
I reach out to my friends to get retweets, reblogs, etc. and I get nothing. No help, no love, after literal years of me promoting them and doing multistreams with them and collabs with them to help them get noticed.
I've even been blocked by multiple friends of mine when I asked if they wanted to partner up for projects. Really! Blocked! Outright blocked because people want so badly to get away from me!
I am literally starving. I'm currently eating stale sourdough bread that my mom made 2 weeks ago because it's all we have in the house.
I'm sitting here suffering constantly and when I ask people if they wanna like do a collab or do an art trade they always tell me they don't have time, and then the next day I see them post 6-7 art trades they did with another artist.
I make fan-art or fan-music for my artist friends and they just completely ignore it.
I am planning to rework my Patreon into a game dev Patreon to help support my solo development on Melodi, and I guarantee with certainty it won't breach $300 a month.
I have spent my entire life from age 11 to age 35 just working hard to make a living off of my art and all I have earned is a reputation as "a shithead" who never gets given the opportunity to question or debate or be interviewed by the people who call me a shithead.
I'm on the verge of fizzling out.
I'm barely surviving.
And when my game comes out, some day, it may very well be the last thing you ever see from me. I may just leave the internet. I may give up and go find another life to live.
Because even though this is my dream, even though this is all I've ever wanted to do with my life, even though I'm talented and my few fans I still have love everything I make and constantly tell me that my creations are gorgeous, I just plain can't keep doing this forever. I cannot, and will not, continue to suffer alone and obscure.
Case in point: This post is gonna get 2-6 comments from the same people who comment on all my emotional posts saying "I wish I could help but I can't so here's a virtual hug," 16-25 likes and 2 reblogs. And then I'll delete the post.
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gdbatbitch · 11 months
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Surgery happened on Tuesday! So my thyroid is now gone, along with some suspicious looking lymph nodes. The surgeon, Dr Lawrence Shirley at Baptist Health, was wonderful and has genuine concern for my progress. He told me that what was removed will be examined/tested by a pathologist to see if there may be any other issues, but hopefully this will be all I need to start healing. Hopefully. I'm not saying anything for certain.
The surgery itself was pretty easy on me. The only other time I've had major surgery like this was almost 24 years ago, when my twin daughters were born. That was a much different experience, but I have strong memories of the hospital staff at University of Kentucky hospital, and most of those memories are not positive. I'll just leave it at that. Baptist has been great so far. Everyone I've interacted with has been kind and made me feel like I was being genuinely cared for. Especially the nurse I was assigned Wednesday morning, Cody. He and I had a few conversations about the economy and comic books and movies, and that really helped me stay positive even though I was in pain.
I am still in a lot of pain. Swallowing hurts, as well as turning my head, leaning, bending over, or sitting up in bed. I tried a couple of times this morning before just rolling myself over to the side so I had more leverage to stand. I also apparently talked way too much yesterday because by the end of the day, my voice was all hoarse and that was causing pain as well. So I think today is going to be a quieter day.
I'm also going to be able to take off the bandage on my incision today and see how that goes. I'm kind of dreading that, even though I am curious to see what it looks like. I'm not afraid of having a scar, I have several as it is. It's just I have this weird fear of the incision opening up on its own. That comes from when I was recovering from the C-section and a staple that was holding the incision closed popped. It didn't really cause any problems, but I had nightmares that my guts could just fall out at any moment. Logically I know that's not going to happen, but the gremlins that control my anxiety levels are having a blast making me paranoid.
At this point, I'm at just around a third of the way toward my goal. I've already had to use what I've raised so far to keep the bills paid and pay for part of the surgery. The hospital has put me on an installment plan that will have me paying about $300 a month for 18 months. That is so far outside my budget, so I'm going to be pushing this fundraiser more, and I'd really love it if those of you that have already donated to share this page and encourage your friends to do the same. The more eyes we get on this, the better.
Right now my bank account is looking sad and since I'm missing time from work, my next paycheck is going to be just a little over half of what I usually bring home. It's only the 19th now, but I'm already nervous about being able to make November's rent. And I know things are tight for everyone, so even the smallest donations can make a big difference to me. A $5 donation is just as good as a $500 donation, and I'm grateful for all of them.
I'm grateful for all of you, for all you've done for me, whether it's a donation or words of support or a phone call, all of it. I usually feel like I'm taking on the world all by my lonesome, but I do feel very much supported and cared for thanks to all of you.
Please enjoy my post-op selfie and the grippy socks I absolutely took home with me. I'm wearing them now and I love them. I'm going to be doing nothing but resting today, since I overdid a little yesterday. Later taters.
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Hey, I’m so sorry I know you don’t know me and I’m not following you, I don’t mean to pry or invade your privacy I’d just love to share something with you more like I need you, I’m Ameera 23 years old, and I’m calling out to the community 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈 to please support us so me and my girlfriend can come out, we have dreams about going for pride rallies,clubs, to be able to kiss in a park express love with no restrictions or fear of being caught, we are both from a typical religious Muslim family, we are know as best friends by our families and friends, we have made this decision to come out to everyone so many times but couldn’t because of how homophobic our parents are due to religious values and ethics. Any one from a typical religious Muslim family can attest to how important it is to follow the rules and moral that are in the holy Quran, So we have come to a conclusion to be ready and be prepared for the worst, Cause the price we may have to pay is to lose our families and maybe friends and of course their support, so we have decided to get an apartment and move in together and start a new life where we can freely be who we really are, and here is where we need your support, though we both work and have some money saved up, but we still need help, getting and setting up an apartment is a lot so we will definitely need all the love and support we can get(donation link pinned on page), Thank you for your donations so far,but we are still 37% to the goal so please add your own bit,I know everyone have one or two things we go through, and this is not me imposing on any one to help, but if you can with how ever little, it will be so much appreciated, and if you can’t, kindly reach out to encourage us cause we also need that as much,This is the biggest and hardest decision we have ever had to make and please share to whoever you feel can help. We shall draw strength from the pride to pull through this, I’M NOT A SCAM feel free to go through my page or do whatever to confirm and my DM is open if you have questions or requests to clear your doubts, I believe pride is for all
i'm currently waiting to see how much of my paycheck will be eaten by expenses, i'll have 2 see if i can send anything. but also, i wish u good luck!! even around ppl who i knew should be trans-positive & queer-positive, it was really tough for me to come out. i got so used to not having it, that i wondered if i truly wanted it at all. stay strong ameera!!!
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taeyohonic · 4 years
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Just a Taste – Chapter One
Summary: Being asked to take a blood test just to work at a merchandise booth should have been the first read flag for you. But you just gave them a sample of your blood in exchange for a very much needed paycheck and a summer job during BTS’ world tour. After the youngest member of the popular kpop band finds himself in a difficult situation, you come to realize that this wasn’t the last time you shed blood for your idols. or: You becomes the new donor for seven bloodthirsty idols, who seem to be way too interested in their new food source.
Pairing: OT7xfem!Reader
Genre: Fantasy, Smut, (Fluff)
Warnings: blood, they aren’t very nice to you...
Words: 2.7k
Chapters: Prologue, Chap. I, Chap. II, Chap. III, Chap. IV, Chap. V, Chap. VI, Chap. VII
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“What do you mean ‘all the bags are gone’?”
Your supervisor does not look amused. The girl with an abnormal amount of glitter on her face does not look amused. Hell, even you don’t look amused. The stadium hasn’t even begun to let the fans in and your merch booth ran out of the official “speak yourself”-bag ten minutes ago.
This job is in the top three most gruesome things you had to do for money. But money was tight, and you didn’t want to survive another summer on ramen and cheap wine. The job ad was harmless at first glance. Just another sales job. But they promised good pay and international traveling, which was enough to let your eyes linger. There was no company mentioned, just a post box.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when BigHit responded to your application a week later. With Bangtan’s rising popularity and the massive size of their tour, extra staff had to be hired. Still, the ARMY in you couldn’t contain her excitement. This was a big deal for you. Touring with one of your favorite kpop bands, traveling to Japan and getting first dips on all the merchandise? This was a no brainer. Hell, you would have even paid them to tag along. So you dressed to impress when you attended the interview, keeping your giddiness locked behind a professional smile.
“You want what?”, you ask – disbelieve coloring your voice.
“A blood test”, the interviewer repeats nonchalantly without looking up from her questionnaire.
Was this normal procedure? You had only ever worked in your aunt’s bookstore during senior year of high school and at a fast food place all through undergrad. Neither asked for your freaking bloodline.
“What? Do you discriminate certain blood types?”, you say in mock humor. A laugh disguised as a cough rings through the room, as the cute guy in the back of the room tries to hide his amusement. His eyes are locked on your features.
“We just want to make sure all our employees are healthy. You’ll be travelling to a foreign country, working long hours.”, the woman in front of you replies, ignoring your bad attempt at a joke. She continues: “You don’t have to – of course.”
“But then I won’t be asked back for a second interview, am I right?”
The woman looks you in the eyes for the first time since entering the room. She doesn’t look as evil as she sounds. “No”
So, you guess you’ll leave with a bit less body fluid than you anticipated.
There wasn’t a second interview. The test results came with a pre-signed contract.
***
“What the fuck is up with this boy today?”, Joo-Won swears as his eyes are glued to the screen in front of you. Your shift is officially over. Most of the merchandise is packed up, all the sold-out item IDs are sent to the head quarter and you already got a notification that the next delivery will be arriving first thing tomorrow morning. Now you’re sitting together with some crew members, a half-finished soju bottle in your hand and an empty carton of take-out on your lap. The guy at your job interview turned out to be quite fun.
Joo-Won introduced himself during the briefing on your first day in Japan. He is responsible for the ARMY Bomb stands, which seems to be a very big deal around here. This is his third tour with Bangtan and he seems to know nearly every henchmen in this operation. So it came to no surprise when a stage assistant invited you both to watch the concert from one of the twelve monitors backstage. Of course, you didn’t look too out of place with your name badge and the Love Yourself-hoodie you may or may not have purchased with your employee discount.
The stage assistant, whose name you can’t remember, is fuzzing with screen number five as you take another sip of your afterwork drink. You stare not really focusing on anything. Just blank nothingness.
“You did see this as well, right _______?”, Joo-Won asks breathlessly.
You can only nod. The Fake Love performance just ended. And even though all seven idols were on fire, the youngest was just out of control.
“What did we just see?”, the boy continues.
“Rudeness”, you answer and empty the bottle with a hefty swing. You knew Jungkook would lift his shirt. You were prepared as you had seen their comeback stage more times than you’d be comfortable to admit. This was not news to you. But the aggression in his stare, how dark he growled his verses, the hard edges on his mouth, not even hinting a friendly smile, was making you uncomfortable.
Before your new friend can respond his headset beeped. Joo-Won answer, his eyes still on the screen.
“Yeah?” After a beat his eyes flash to you. You squirm uncomfortably in your seat.
“_________ is with me”, he says and you need a second to register your role in the conversation.
Joo-Won’s stare lingers on your face – a silent question in his eyes.
“Sure, sir. I’ll bring her to you right away.” Then he ends the call sifting, so your knees are brushing against one another.
“Care to explain, why Bangtan’s prime management wants to speak with you, _______?”, your friend asks, no judgement in his voice. What?
***
“So, I have to sign another NDA?”, you ask the manager in front of you, trying to swallow your nervousness. This is the Sejin, Bangtan’s right hand advisor. Every fan knows him from countless Bangtan Bombs and can easily recognize the fathering care in his work.
“This one… is more specific”, he explains and moves the stack of papers to you. You try to calm your excited fingers as you grab at the legal document, flipping through it.
“And it’s time sensitive”, Sejin adds and searches your eyes for attention. You give it to him.
“Time sensitive?” The papers abandoned on the table. “Is something wrong with the boys?”
There will come a time and place when you reflect on the choice of calling these men “the boys” as if they were your closest friends. But it’s not today. Today you just see a glint in his eyes.
“Yes, it’s Jungkookie”, Sejin starts and your memories flash to their concert an hour prior. How Joo-Won and you both discussed how beastly the youngest looked – how aggressive.
“Wh-what?”, you answer in question. The manager’s hands move on top of yours.
“He is ill and … you might be able to help him. We can’t transport him. And we are not sure he’ll survive an ambulance ride.”
Your brain blanks as you stand up in a swift move. This is simple: One of your most cherished idols is ill and his trustworthy manager tells you that you’ll be able to help. This is a no brainer.
“Take me to him”, you order, not even caring that Sejin’s words are not making any sense. How can a twenty-four-year-old college dropout help the golden maknae? What even is his illness?
Sejin’s smile should have been another red flag. “Slow down, _________”, he sooths and moves around the table so he is standing in front of you. “This is important. You have to sign the documents. You’ll have to transfuse blood to him.” He is handling you a pen. “There are health risks. This isn’t … the most optimal environment for a blood donation.”
Jungkook needs your blood – memories of your job interview come back.
You sign the contract, not even reading all the small-printed clauses on the pages. Before the ink is even dry, Sejin is moving you through a long corridor. His hand rests on your neck – squeezing reassuringly. A glimmer travels across your body and you try to ground yourself. Of course you are nervous. This is reasonable. You’ll donate blood to one of your favorite idols. Maybe you’ll see him, when he gets better. Hell, maybe he’ll even thank you in person! Meeting Bangtan is the closest form to aspiration you have at the moment.
“When is the nurse coming?”, you question the logistics as you move towards the farthest door labeled “BTS”.
“Which nurse?” You look at Sejin in surprise – if not a nurse, who’ll take your blood?
“Then a doctor?”, you ask and Sejin shakes his head, a humorless chuckle escaping him while you both come to a halt in front of the door.
“There is… no time I’m afraid”, he answers – with remorse in his voice. There is a sinking feeling in your stomach, some of the fog lifted. How the hell should you give Jungkook your blood if there is not even a transfusion station here?
Sejin knocks at the door, ignoring your thumbing heartbeat and opens the door, softly pushing you into the room. “I’ll explain everything; I promise.”
***
The starving vampire smells your sweet blood as soon as the door opens – Sejin a mere decoration in his vision. Jungkook’s whole body turns towards you while your eyes nervously shift across the room. Time slows down as the maknae swiftly moves straight to you. His muscles ache and he cannot even recognize his swallow breathing. His stare is fixed on the nap of your neck – deliciously soft, milky. Not even the slightest imperfection in this human before him.
You do not even sense Namjoon’s and Seokjin’s presence as your eyes take in the predator advancing towards you. The older ones seem frozen as their youngest stops just a breath away from you. You look mouthwatering – clad in one of their merchandise hoodies, hair pinned in a mess at the top of your head, some bold eye make-up, but otherwise barefaced. You look… just right.
Before Jungkook’s grin spreads across his face, Jin takes action – trying to move between the sarved vampire and this … girl. What the hell was Sejin thinking just throwing her in here? Did he want this human dead so badly?
But the oldest is too late – Jungkook growls aggressively as he snatches you against his firm chest. All the air leaves your lungs – your breasts pressed painfully against solid muscle.
“Ahh”, you groan. As soon as the noise leaves your mouth, his lips descend against the white of your neck. The maknae hisses in pleasure; and then he is biting – hard.
Your scream misses the volume and you feel tears on your cheeks as you gaze into Seokjin’s overwhelmed eyes – hands outstretched.
Blood flows freely into Jungkook’s mouth and you hear a sickening slurping sound. The pain is blazing against your skin, every fiber of your body vehemently trying to get away from the maknae. But your fingers don’t push him away. No, the curl around his biceps – acting against every rational though inside your brain. You cling to the man sucking your blood as if he’s merely leaving a love bite.
The pain in your body slowly ebbs and you feel a bright bliss surrounding you. You’re not even sure if you are still standing at the door. There is no room – just lips against your neck and whimpers in your throat… and Namjoon’s voice far, far away.
“Jungkook stop now.”
“This is an order.”
“Jin, help me.”
“Let’s lay her down.”
“Is there a pulse?”
***
“How do you take your coffee?”, Yoongi asks while starring at you with such indifference in his eyes you’re not sure your answer even matters.
“Uhm- I” His sigh interrupts you as he makes his way from the couch across form you to the kitchenette. The whole room is dimmed in a soft light, the furniture a clean white. You feel your head spin as you try to recall what happened. Weren’t you backstage? Didn’t Jun-
“Jungkook”, your voice more of an accusation than a whisper. Yoongi’s back stiffens, but he continues to brew hot water over a ceramic filter and soon a soothing smell of coffee drifts towards you on the white leather.
“Jungkook sucked m-y – he su”
“-cked your blood. Damn girl, how hard did you hit your head when you fainted?”, your favorite rapper asks – his body finally turned towards you.
Slow, leisure steps are taken and then he sits in front of you, taking you all in. You must look like a mess; grease and sweat from your shift in the booth, plus the incident with the youngest vocalist in the band. All the blood. Your stomach turns around uncomfortably.
Yoongi is looking into your eyes and for a split second you see something other than complete boredom behind his stare, but as soon as you try to pinpoint the emotion, it vanishes.
“That’s what vampire do”, he continues and you heart reacts before the triggering word even registers in your brain. Vampire. No way.
“Go-ood one, Yoongi-ssi. This… this isn’t – some romance novel for teenagers”, you scoff, disbelieve in your voice while your heart beats hard against your chest. Without missing a beat, the idol is in your face – literally just millimeters away. The air is stuck in your lungs as you try to calm yourself.
“You know what I hate, dumb human?”
His fingers draw lines across your face – just a feathering touch, barely more than an illusion. You can only shake your head; afraid your voice will give out if you try to answer verbally.
His face moves down to your neck as his hands frame your face – no longer brushing but locking your head into place. Then his mouth dives into your neck, just resting against your pulse. You can feel the sinister smile against your skin as you shiver.
“Talking to dumb people”, his lips vibrate and you feel goosebumps traveling across your body.
“You have all the proof, but your silly little brain still doesn’t – connect the pieces”, Yoongi trails small kisses across your collarbone; a stark contrast to his insulting words.
“Do you really think our little maknae just has a blood kink?”
He moves to the other side of your neck, while titling your head forcefully to the left. You can’t move your body – muscles frozen into place. You’re just passively… enduring what your favorite idol does to you. Now his teeth are grazing your right earlobe, as his voice drops another octave into a threatening growl.
“That we just hire a college dropout because of her work ethics?”
His words hurt, but you’re more concerned with the information behind them. They know about you, must have read your file. Shame colors your cheeks and Yoongi’s nose inhales deeply against the red of your skin.
“You smell fucking delicious”, he moans and places an open mouth kiss against your rosé cheek. You can feel his saliva on your skin and a whimper of your own escapes your throat.
“You like that, dumb human? Knowing I’d love… nothing more than to bite in your flesh? Drain you dry?”, he slurs. You both know that this is nothing more than a rhetorical question – your heart, your breathing and the wetness between your tights enough evidence.
But before he can act on his words, a searing pain flashes through your brain.
“Argh”, you groan pressing your head against his cold hands with virgo. The dead skin of his fingertips sooths the throbbing in your brain temporarily. But he knows that your time is nearing its end.
“Human, listen to me”, he whispers, his previously threatening tone making place for urgent whisper.
“When you wake up” What? His hands still a vise to keep you grounded, while the pain in your head expands to your whole body. “Damn human, focus!”
He searches your eyes for recognition, but your stare moves around the room – now noticing how alien the light looks, how… clean the colors are. Is this? Are you still sleeping? How?
“When you wake up”, Yoongi’s voice nothing more than a vibrating hum in your ears, “Say no to Namjoon.”
Now he is shaking you. “Say no”
***
“Good morning, sleepyhead”, Namjoon says after you open your eyes – the morning sun blinding you momentarily.
“I made you coffee”, he adds as he pushes a steaming mug in your hands. The familiar smell takes you back to your dream, to Yoongi, his words, his plea – and you gape at the leader in front of you.
“I thought we could talk?”
_______________________
A/N: What do you guys think? I am so thankful for the feedback you guys sent me. It means a lot! I hope you like this chapter as much as i do! I’d love to hear from you again! love, dana
taglist: @m0chilattae @gali-005 @fangirls94 @dinopowa @toddsgirl27 @littlemanismoon @dkck99 @slutkoo @subtlepjiminie @coffeebeanismylife @iloverubberduckiez-blog @geminidrawsstuff @olivialovemason88
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clevercatchphrase · 4 years
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2020 Year Review~
2020. Pretty unique year, don’t you think? It’s the first year since 2002 to have only two different digits in it. After 2022, this won’t happen again until 2111. Yep. Absolutely nothing more interesting than that.
Anyway! It’s time I reflect on my 2020, look back on my yearly goals and rant about things that happened to me this year. I made a post like this last year, where I went over my 2019 goals and talked about what I accomplished and what I didn’t, and it’s only fitting I do the same again this year. Read more under the cut for a random stream of consciousness ramble!
So, first things first, let’s look at my 2019 goals;
Finish paying off that last student loan
Put more stuff on my redbubble
Illustrate my own fan fics
Sew at least one stuffed animal
Make an enamel pin
Read one new book a month
Write one page a day/Complete at least one new fan fic
Learn Python or C# for the game I want to make
Finish fully scripting Ghost Switch
Boost my patreon
 Paying Off My Last Student Loan: Going down the list, I am proud to say that I FINALLY paid off all my student loans! (and not a moment too soon. The last payment I made was literally days before the first quarantine rolled out). It took me roughly 4 years on my part-time paycheck to pay off all my loans, and once I finished, I had no money to my name (literally; I had less than 1k as emergency money in case of car troubles or health issues). Heck, I’m STILL living at home as a save up for a place of my own. Finally paying off all my student loans DID activate my secret 2020 new year’s resolution, which was to adopt a cat! I did this too, literally a week later! She is the best thing that’s happened to me this entire year and I love her so much and she is the snuggliest cuddle bug I’ve ever met. I’m so happy she’s in my life now~
Put More Stuff On My Redbubble: ah ha ha ha… I thought I did this, but then I went and checked, and it turns out-! I did not. I made art I intended to go on my redbubble, but haven’t put there yet. They are all drawings of some OCs from a game I want to make, but because I haven’t progressed on making the game this year, I never got around to putting more stuff related to it on my redbubble. At the time of writing, there are 7 days left in December, so I guess I could go and put it up on my redbubble right now, but without context on where the characters are from, there wouldn’t be much point, now would there?
 Illustrate My Own Fan Fics: Another goal that I was so stoked to actually do… and then just didn’t. Gee, I wonder why I couldn’t find the energy or motivation to do it this year? Truly a conundrum. (Hey, you know what? If Ghost Switch counts as a fan fiction in a visual form, then I am doing GREAT on this goal. 2.5 years in, 1 of ~4 arcs done, and still going steady~)
 Sew At Least One Stuffed Animal: Okay, I have a valid excuse for not doing this one. I even knew which stuffed animal I wanted to make, and had the pattern drawn out and everything, but I had no money for materials because I had just paid off my student loans. And then, by the time I did have enough money again, quarantine was in full effect and I couldn’t go out to the fabric store. I’m still trying my best to stay out of public places even if the rules are laxer now, because I don’t want to catch the plague even if everyone in my goddamn city thinks and acts like the problem is over already. Even if they’re all wearing masks, even if they’re staying 6 feet apart, I still don’t want to risk it. I will stay inside until health experts give the all clear, and when that day comes, then I will buy some fleece and make a plush.
 Make An Enamel Pin: I ACTUALLY DID THIS ONE. TWICE! Halfway through quarantine, I was feeling anxious and depressed about my job and how they were planning to have me work with the public despite climbing infection rates and positive covid cases. I didn’t quit then, but in a desperate move to try and become self-sufficient, I went to madebycooper and made two enamel pins based on some butterfly dragons I drew last year. They’re on my etsy store now! I even went out of my way to open a P.O. box just to start a small business! I haven’t sold a single pin yet, and I’m actually really nervous to sell my first because I don’t trust the efficiency of the postal system thanks to the actions of the GOP that really screwed them over this year! (If you would like to see my enamel pins, click here!)
 Read One Book A Month: I did this! With dragon books I bought a couple years back! In fact, I read FOURTEEN dragon books, and still have more books for next year to read! The 14 books I read this year were:
 The Hive Queen
The Poison Jungle
Wings Of Fire Legends: Dragonslayer
Dealing With Dragons
Searching For Dragons
Calling on Dragons
Talking to Dragons
The Bronze Dragon Codex
The Brass Dragon Codex
The Black Dragon Codex
The Red Dragon Codex
The Silver Dragon Codex
Dragon Strike, and
Hatching Magic
 To be honest, I had read The Red Dragon Codex years ago when it first came out, but completely forgotten what it was about. I remembered liking it, and I knew the reading level was on the lower side, but the whole dragon codex series was pretty good! So far, the Silver dragon codex was my favorite, and black dragon codex was probably the worst! Hatching Magic was also really slow and bad and had plot points that went nowhere, but the book was written in the 80s, so I don’t know what I expected. The Dealing with Dragons series was very charming and great for the most part, save for one line in the last book that really rubbed me the wrong way, and all the Wings of Fire Books go above and beyond in this third arc. The second legends book could be a little tighter, though (sky and wren are the best duo and I want a book solely about them, but I honest to god do not care about leaf and ivy’s stories.)
 Write one Page of any story every day/ complete at least one fic: I… did this? Okay, I kinda cheated near the end of the year. I was keeping up the one page a day thing for the first four months, but then the world went to shit and my schedule and habits got disrupted and I fell off my good track record. I completed 7 out of roughly 12 one-shots I had planned for this year (my goal WAS supposed to be one short a month, but… you know how it happens) I kept trying to catch up on this goal all year, but the days kept piling up…. Until November hit. I managed to write over 250 pages for Nanowrimo, and I consider this goal a win. 365 pages of fiction in total, which averages out to about one a day~. SHUT UP IT COUNTS.
 Learn Python or C# for the game I want to make: Another goal I didn’t have the mental energy to commit to this year. Truly a mystery to where all our willpower went in 2020.
 Fully Finish Scripting Ghost Switch: still haven’t done this one yet! The Snowdin arc is completely planned, but I just haven’t gotten around to getting the other areas. I’m not worried, though. I know all the major plot points I gotta hit, it’s just weaving them together in a way that flows nice is the final task. I’m not too worried though. I don’t expect to finish the Snowdin arc for another year and a half, at the bare minimum.
 And my last goal of 2020, Boost My Patreon. I did this at the beginning of the year, but then very intentionally stopped about a third of the way through. It didn’t sit right with me to tell you guys to donate to me when suddenly EVERYONE was financially strained from layoffs or being furloughed. I told my patrons the same, and if you ever need to stop donating to me to take care of yourself first, then by all means, please do. I would feel much better knowing you’re using your money to see yourself fed and housed instead of given to me (where it is pretty much only used to buy gas for my car, honestly)
 Welp! That was all my goals for 2020! I achieved 4 out of 10 goals plus 1 secret goal! Pretty much the same ratio as last year, but now this time I can blame all my failures on the pandemic! I don’t feel so bad about myself anymore~
 ON TO 2021!
 I have 11 goals for the new year, again some rolled over from this list, and some from even older years. They are, in no particular order;
 Read 12 new books (roughly 1 book a month)
Finish the first draft of 2019’s Nanowrimo project and rewrite it
Script TDV
Finish Scripting Ghost Switch
Build A Comic Buffer
Sew 1 Stuffed Animal
Finish 1 Song Comic
Make another Enamel Pin
Finish 2 short original comics (this one counts as 2 goals)
Finish the 5 remaining one-shot fics
 Now to go into depth on each one, more for my own sake, really. I want to know exactly what I have planned for each goal this year, and sometimes just looking at a short list doesn’t capture all the smaller details.
 1)Read 12 new books. Same as last year! I The only difference is I might not be able to make it all dragon-related books. (I try my hardest not to buy from amazon anymore, but half-price-books doesn’t always have the obscure stuff I’m looking for)
 2)Finish 2019’s nanowrimo project. If you read my 2019 year reflection, you’ll notice I said I wanted to do some original writing. And I did! The story I wrote for nanowrimo back then was a story I’ve been toying with since 2017, but it was only last year I finally got pen to paper. Now, you may find it odd that the keyword says “finish”. You may think, “but isn’t that what you’re supposed to do for nanowrimo?” and to that I say, WRONG! I wrote 50k words for nanowrimo, but the draft was only about halfway complete. I was kinda discouraged about what I had written last year, because I didn’t like how it was coming out, but I did manage to get it half done. Now it’s time for me to bite the bullet and just finish the thing so I can finally revise it and make it into something I DO like. (It’s still gonna be hella long, tho. That’s what I get for trying to write an epic fantasy, I guess.)
 3)Script TDV. TDV is the abbreviation of the game I want to make. I… still need to do so much for this project OTL… In addition to getting the story solidified, I still need to draw art and game assets, and learn how to code for it, both of which are no small task. I keep having some sort of new year’s goal related to this on my list, and every year I just don’t hit this one. Will 2021 be different?
 4)Finish Scripting Ghost Switch. (Or at the very least, get the waterfall arc completely written out). I have a plan to break this down into simpler steps, by focusing on just one arc for a month or two. Every major arc has 2 to 3 parts, broken up by flashbacks, and if I can just finish one section a month, then I should have the entire thing scripted by the end of the year. It’s not a difficult pace, but seeing if I stick with it will be the real challenge, as it is will all my goals it seems.
 5)Build a Comic Buffer: I’m actually working on this one right now! Since I paid off my last loan and got a new job this year, my current Patreon goals are kind of out of date. They had all been centered around me paying off that last loan, and working towards full-time employment, but those are both completed now! So instead, I would love to get to a place where my patrons could read pages at least a week ahead, and to do that, I need to build a buffer. And since I’m working 5 full days a week now, I can’t afford to fall behind. But you can’t fall behind if you constantly stay ahead! I would like to have… a 10 to 12 page buffer. That’s roughly 3 months’ worth of pages to always have on hand in case I get swamped with work, or something. Right now I currently have a buffer of 3, which will cover me for half a January, which is better than not having anything at all, but still not the best. (ultimately, I would love to have a buffer so big, I could queue them up for the whole year. Wouldn’t that be something?)
 6) Sew one stuffed animal: same as last year. ASSUMING the plague gets under control in 2021, I don’t expect to get to this goal until the summer at the earliest.
 7)Finish 1 song comic: I have 7 song comics planned. One is a gift, one possibly for wandersong, one is a collab that’s currently in the works, but I’m waiting on a friend to do their part before I can continue mine, 2 are UT related, and 2 (well, technically 3, but one is the collab) are KH related. It’s one of the UT ones that will probably get finished, if I’m being honest. It’s completely story boarded, and now I just need to ink and color it. I would like to get it done for UT’s 6th birthday, since I made a song comic on the fly for the anniversary this year, and it was fun, and I’d like to do it again! So, look forward to that next september~
 8) Make another enamel pin: I have a dolphin design I’d like to make because dolphins are cute, if not little murder machines. (need to save up some expendable income first, tho. THESE THINGS AIN’T CHEAP TO MAKE.)
 9 and 10) start and finish 2 original short comics: I’ve got some comic ideas I want to do, but I need to get them written out first. I don’t think either would be too long. Each maybe a couple “episode’s” length, if envisioned on a website like webtoons or tapas. They’d both be heavy in allegory, but not overly drawn out (hopefully)
 11)And lastly, Finish the 5 remaining one-shots I had planned for this year but never got around to. I’m going to try to write one every other month. Pure self-indulgent shipping fluff. If I finish these 5, then maybe I’ll ask other people for more prompts and ideas, which I’ve never done before. We’ll see how it goes~
 Also, Like last year, I’d like to look at everything that’s happened to me this year, though to be honest, I’m not sure how much I remember/how accurate it’ll be. God, I don’t even remember what January was like. Who was I back then? Who were we all back then? I guess I’ll start my yearly retrospective in march because, heh, god we ALL know what started happening in march.
 Firstly, I paid off my last student loan! Then a week later on March 18th, I drove half an hour out of my city to adopt a cat and I love her and it was the best day of this year for me. Spring break is just beginning this weekend, but the attendance at the zoo is shockingly low this year. Apparently, a lot of people watch the news, and they’re all taking precautions about social distancing. I wasn’t too disappointed. Fewer people at the zoo, the easier my job is for me. I was looking forward to getting some free overtime on spring break, since I’m broke after paying off that loan, and I’m a cat parent now and have a furry child to feed. Monday rolls around. My manager calls me and tells me that the zoo is going into lockdown until further notice. I worry for the birds I take care of, but understand it’s for everyone’s safety.
 For two months I sleep in and watch way too much YouTube. I join a couple writing discords. I have nightmares about my birds escaping their enclosure and I dreamed one of the security guards I really like at the zoo gets covid and has to go to the ER. I woke up really upset.
 I started and finished BBS for the first time. I also replayed and finished KH2 final mix for the first time. It had been about 5 years since I last played KH2 before my PS2 died, and it was like coming home~ I also finished tearaway, and played and beat Ryme for a second time (which I can’t remember if I did that last year, but it was a fun experience regardless)
 Mid-June, and I’m allowed to start going back to work, be it on reduced hours. The zoo is still closed to the public, but I’m loving it! I get to work with full-time keepers and do full-time keeper things. It’s so much fun not having to deal with the public. August starts to creep up and there’s a rumor that the zoo will be opening to the public again, which I’m not stoked about. I don’t want to go back to standing in one exhibit all day, talking to guests who don’t listen to the rules or to me. 2 of my younger coworkers (who had both only been there a couple of months) get chosen for full-time positions, while I get passed up which really pisses me off. My other 2 coworkers quit when they think we might be reopening because they cannot risk catching the virus due to at-risk family. I am now the last keeper in the interactive bird exhibit.
 I keep working, the zoo slowly opens, but with me as the only interpreter in our interactive bird exhibit, we can’t open because I can’t run the entire exhibit by myself. So my exhibit stays closed. September comes and goes, and then October starts. Now there is more serious talk of opening my exhibit before the end of the year because the zoo expects to bring in larger crowds for the Christmas lights event in November/December. I ask if I get hazard pay or health insurance since I’m doing full-time hours until they hire more staff. They say no.
 I immediately start searching for a new job feeling incredibly indignant/hurt/slighted/insulted/used/abused/ALL the negative feelings at my job. I had been there for 4 years, but never got a chance to work full time, while the two newest hires who had only been there 2 months both got moved up. I can’t help but feel they were holding one mistake I made two years ago against me and never wanted to give me a chance. (that, or they knew I was reliable when it came to showing up for work in such a volatile position that sees a lot of new faces, and they didn’t want to bother going through the process of hiring someone new) I don’t want to risk my life working around guests who don’t wash their hands and don’t properly distance. I don’t want to gamble with my health when they won’t offer me health insurance because I’m part time.
 Mid October, I get an interview for a full time job and get hired on the spot. I peace out at the zoo 2 weeks later, literally 3 days before they planned to open my exhibit to the public. It was a close call for me to escape before they opened to the public (and pettiness was only partially the reason I dipped out so close to opening). Sorry new hires who are now in charge of the bird feeding exhibit. I taught you the best I could in the short time I had. If the managers are struggling with what to do with one less person, I can’t say I feel bad. I can only hope they delayed opening/closed you down again for your own safety. You are not lightbulbs. I really hope the higher ups stop considering you as replaceable as one. Will I go back to the zoo to visit? Probably. But not for a year at least.
 I started my new job the very next day after I quit the zoo, and have been there ever since, (which isn’t that long yet, tbh. Christmas day was my 2 month anniversary). It’s full time, but it’s also a small business, and everyone’s hours this year have been on the short side due to the plague. I understand, though. They don’t want us to work if they can’t afford to pay us. Everyone is nice enough, though some people smoke and it’s hard to avoid them with how frequently we have to go in and out, and I really don’t want to get lung cancer, sorry not sorry, please and thank you. Also, with such a small team, gossip is certainly harder to go undetected, so it’s a relief knowing people don’t talk behind one another’s backs.
 I participated and beat my 4th nanowrimo in a row, I made TWO apple crisps on thanksgiving, and made baklava on Christmas and both of these recipes were my first time making them, and they both came out adequately! I voted the first day of early voting, and I did an art trade/collab with two of my friends for my birthday! (normally we would have done monthly “art days” where we get together and do art projects for fun because we’re adults and we can spend our time together however we want, but the plague said otherwise this year) We drew pokemon and it was fun! (hopefully I can show you all the results soon. At the time of writing, I’m still waiting for the last two colored parts to get back to me)
 I reached 100 pages on my undertale comic, and finish the first arc out of…! (im not sure. It’s either going to be 4 or 5, I haven’t decided yet)
 Over all, I managed to stay healthy as far as I know. I wasn’t as productive as I wanted to be this year, but then again, who was? (don’t answer that. I don’t need that kind of comparison in my life right now)
 Will 2021be any better? Honestly? I don’t think so. Not right away, at least. Just because a new year is about to start does not mean the slate is completely wiped clean. The change of the calendar year doesn’t magically make all our current problems disappear. Covid will still be here and cases will still climb when January starts. Small business will still be strained when the month rolls over, police will still go on murdering innocent civilians and getting away scot free, amazon and disney will still be monopolizing all consumer goods and media, and I can’t help but feel like there’s an impending shit show about to go down on inauguration day. I do hope things will get better, though. It’ll be arduous and unpleasant, but I do hope things will improve, because sometimes hoping is all you can do.
 Good night.
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astoldbygingersnaps · 4 years
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On Petco and COVID-19:
I’ve seen a lot of stories and reports about various companies and how they are treating their employees poorly in the wake of COVID-19, but to my surprise I haven’t seen anything about my company, Petco. I suppose it makes sense, given that Petco isn’t as large a company as Target, Starbucks, or Walmart, but I believe people should know what we as partners have been dealing with since the outbreak really picked up steam in the US. 
Before I detail exact what my personal struggle with the company has been, I’d like to make one thing clear: I am a hard worker. I have spent five years of my life--half a decade--dedicating myself to this company. I am both a dog trainer and a keyholder, and I take both of those duties very seriously. Nothing means more to me than taking care of pets and their people, and I pride myself on providing the best care and service to our guests as possible. So when I say that this entire situation is forcing me to abandon my job out of disgust for the way I and my fellow workers have been treated, I want you to understand how much that means. 
I love the work that I do, but that does not change the fact that I, along with many other Petco partners, have been exploited, dismissed, and outright lied to during this crisis. While I understand that we are living in a dangerous and chaotic time that is difficult to navigate, such a fact makes it all the more necessary to treat people with dignity, compassion, and respect. I do not enjoy putting an organization that I have given so much of my heart and soul to on blast, but the events of the previous month have made it clear that Petco as a company does not care whether or not its employees or even its customers are harmed or killed because of their negligence.
For almost a month our concerns have been ignored, belittled, and redirected, and the little action that has been taken has been incredibly delayed and led to even more confusion. Furthermore, we’ve had little clear guidance on what we, as partners who work in retail stores, should be doing to take care of ourselves and our guests. 
It is also worth noting that our CEO, Ron Coughlin, was sending out emails to Petco Pals Rewards members in the beginning of March claiming that stores would be instructed to disinfect and clean regularly, but no such instructions were ever given. We never received any emails or forms of internal communication telling partners on how they should be cleaning, and because of this my own store took time out of our day to develop a cleaning schedule and shared our template throughout the district. Again, this is something we did OURSELVES, NOT something we were explicitly told to do. So, if you don’t care about how retail workers have been treated, at least care that you, as a customer, have been lied to. 
From the beginning, there has been a very clear divide in how store partners have been treated compared to corporate/office workers. While corporate/office workers have the luxury of working from home with full benefits and are allowed to perform social distancing to the CDC’s guidelines, we are not so lucky. Again, I understand this, to a point: because of their positions they are able to perform their jobs from home while we are not. But such a decision was consistently framed as “difficult” and “emotional,” which, frankly, is bogus. What’s so hard about giving your employees access to work from their personal computer? And what’s so difficult for them anyway considering they’re not the ones who have to come in contact with the public day after day?
Through the second week in March, numerous communications were spread throughout the company on our internal Workplace service, each one more inadequate and inefficient than the last. The worst was a ten minute long video where our CEO repeatedly stated that “pets are our main priority” and described over and over again how we simply MUST stay open for our customers. It wasn’t until the very end of the video that any mention was given to partners at all. The entire post was incredibly off-putting and made me, as a partner, feel incredibly undervalued. 
What made things worse, however, were the comments under the video. Floods of partners shared their concerns and disappointments. Many of them cited having young children or older relatives at home, or were immunocompromised themselves, and worried about the danger that working in a retail environment put themselves and their loved ones in. And what was the company’s response? To tell these people over and over to simply “partner with their district manager if they were worried.” That’s it. No direction, no guidance, no words of comfort. Nothing. One person was even accused of simply not having a desire to work rather than, I dunno, A FEAR OF CONTRACTING AND SPREADING A DEADLY ILLNESS. 
The post in question (all names have been blacked out to respect privacy): 
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It was some of the most vile behavior I have ever witnessed, both from upper management and lower-level employees like myself who were displaying an almost slavish devotion to a company that was so ready and willing to dispose of them. Multiple people stated they were proud to work for our company in this moment, which was utterly baffling to me, as I had never felt more worthless to Petco than I did seeing those messages.
So! Let’s talk about partnering with your local leader! (Spoiler alert: it’s fucking useless)
On March 15th, my direct supervisor and I made a call to our district leader to “discuss our concerns.” What followed was thirty minutes of our life wasted where we were told the exact same thing as we had been told via the Workplace post: no partner would lose their job for taking time off if they displayed symptoms or came into contact with a person who had COVID-19 (the absolute bare minimum, in my opinion), but they would be required to either take a fourteen day unpaid medical leave or use their personal PTO and sick time to cover the cost. Around this time I was both showing symptoms (dry cough, fatigue, shortness of breath) and learned that my fiancee, whom I live with, came into direct contact with someone with the illness via her work. The possibility of contracting COVID-19 was especially worrying for us, as my fiancee has severe asthma and I have scarring on my lungs from chronic bronchitis; were we to get sick, the consequences could be severe. It’s even more concerning given that the state we live in, Massachusetts, has one of the highest rates of infection in the US and hospitals are in danger of becoming overwhelmed. Therefore, I decided to make what I believed was the most responsible and ethical decision, and went on leave. 
Fortunately, I am lucky; as a full-time worker who has been with the company for many years, I have accrued enough PTO and sick time to cover the weeks that I would be gone for. But many people who work for this company are not so lucky. Many are part-time workers who are not entitled to benefits, and some are full-timers who may have already burned through their paid time off as it resets on the anniversary of your hire date. So now these workers, like many other workers across the country, are being asked to choose between taking care of themselves and their community or putting food on the table. It is absolutely inhumane, especially given that last time I checked our CEO is worth more than two million dollars--yet the rest of us are forced to worry about paying our rent and feeding our families while we do the dirty work on the front lines. 
Since I initially took leave, this has been amended, and employees who have been affected by COVID-19 have been given access to 40 hours of sick time, regardless of their status as full or part-time. But that only covers one week of the mandatory self-isolation period, meaning partners are still at risk of losing money. 
Time and time again we have been told how much our overlords value us. We have been thanked, we have been praised, and we have had so many meaningless words and tiny gestures thrown at us. Sure, our store hours have been cut and we’re offering curbside pick-up to reduce foot traffic in certain stores (my store, a smaller Unleashed location, doesn’t qualify for curbside pick-up, because of our size). Sure, changes have been made to the dog training program to freeze classes and puppy playtime for the time being. And sure, there has been a partner assistance fund opened to support partners in these ~trying times. I applaud the company for making these necessary changes and for putting their money where their mouth is when it comes to donating directly to us.
But in a lot of ways, it’s too little, too late, and so many of these services remain inaccessible to all partners. Hell, partners have even been policed about when they can actually utilize their own personal sick time even though we are in the middle of a global health crisis. 
Even for those of us who have done everything exactly as we were supposed to, we are still getting screwed. Currently, I’m battling with Petco HR to get paid for the first week of my self-isolation as, even though I submitted all my time off requests accurately, none of it was reflected in my paycheck; because we get paid by-weekly, I have yet to see whether my second week will be covered, but I suspect I will have to battle for that as well. As a person who lives paycheck to paycheck in one of the most expensive cities in the country, I quite literally can’t afford this right now. But, of course, the HR team is off work right now because of COVID-19, because unlike us they have that luxury. 
In addition to this, I’ve also been prevented from coming back to work because our Leaves Coordinator now claims I need a doctor’s note to return to work even though I have it in writing, from paperwork directly from the Leaves Department, that I do not, as evidenced here:
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I would also like to note that I confirmed that I would be returning to work on the afternoon of March 27th and received an automatic reply that I would hear from a representative in 24 to 48 hours. I did not, in fact, hear back from a representative until March 30st at 11:59pm EST, ten hours before I was scheduled to return to work, as you can see here (again, I am hiding my personal information as much as possible to try and avoid retaliation from my employer): 
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While I understand delays given that our HR and Leaves Departments are no doubt bogged down given how many employees are currently in the same boat as me, it does not change the fact that I am suffering because of their lack of action. 
It would be one thing if the facts had been clearly communicated from the very beginning, but as you can see that’s very much not the case. Instead, I’ve been jerked around, lied to, and, again, had my pay withheld. Every day I spend at home fighting with these people is another day of pay I lose and cannot get back. Words cannot express how terrible this whole experience has been. I’ve cried nearly every day and been so anxious and depressed I’ve literally vomited from the stress. All the years I’ve spent building my career and taking care of clients while earning money for this company and this is the thanks I get in return. It is quite literally sickening. 
Throughout this entire process I and many of the Petco employees in my area have been treated like absolute garbage. The stores in our district are running on fumes because so many partners are sick and/or on leave. Employees are running entire stores on their own and not getting breaks because we’re so short-staffed. One store in our district even closed down because a groomer tested positive for COVID-19 leading to the entire store shutting down and being professionally cleaned... and then re-opened almost immediately, causing even more of a burden on the remaining employees scrambling to cover all these near-empty locations. Our technology is over-loaded and crashing because it can’t bear the weight of our increased Buy Online, Pick Up In Stores (BOPUS) and curbside pick-up orders. It’s absolute insanity and it needs to stop. 
I am not the first person to say this, nor will I be the last, but the crisis we are currently experiencing has starkly exposed how broken our economic and social structures truly are. Along with doctors, nurses, and medical care professionals working in hideous conditions to keep the rest of us healthy and safe, the people who contribute the most to our communities are those that have traditionally been looked upon as unskilled and overall less-than: janitors, housekeepers, garbagemen, cashiers, shelf-stockers, etc. Very quickly public perception has turned, and now society as a whole knows what those of us who work these types of jobs have always known: we are essential. We have the power in society. And we should use that power to defend ourselves and each other, which is why I’m writing to you now. By shining a light on the flaws and failings of this company, I believe we can hold them and others like them accountable and demand better, because we absolutely deserve it. 
The bottom line is this: if you care about workers’ rights, if you value the safety and lives of your fellow humans, and if want to slow the spread of this disease that has upended everything we hold dear, don’t go to Petco. Don’t reward this company’s bad behavior with your money because they have proven they do not deserve it. 
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pidgetyy · 4 years
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My application for The Underpass, a roleplay hosted by @fireflythenightlight (and which I found through my dear friend @validwofjobs). Legacy is a mostly-human, slightly-pheonix girl who loves planning ahead, making new friends, and her two identical pet giant geckos, Lychee the pet leachie and Guinep the familiar leachie-salamander. The rest about her can be found in these incoming walls of text under the cut!
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Backstory- 
Legacy grew up with an older and younger sister, the treasured “only son” of her parents, especially her father. Her name, before she realized she wasn’t a boy and chose a new name for herself, was Terrence. Her family lived in an apartment above a pet reptile store, run by her father. She got her familiar, Guinep, as well as her beloved pet, Lychee, when she was 8. She bonded with Guinep especially as her familiar, but the identical Lychee received plenty of love too, and in the first few years she had trouble telling apart the identical and closely bonded New Caledonian Giant Geckos by anything other than their temperament- Guinep was very calm, but Lychee tended to be a lot more snappish. Lychee followed Guinep’s lead in warming up to Legacy quickly, but remains a little aggressive towards strangers. 
Legacy was almost 15 when she finally admitted to herself that she didn’t think she was really a boy, after two years of suppressing and refusing to believe her own feelings. She began to grow her hair out, and stared longingly at the girl’s section of stores, but didn’t dare to expose her identity to her parents, whose reactions she couldn’t predict in the slightest. After about a year and a half of planning and psyching herself up, she finally had the guts to come out to her parents. The fallout didn’t come to the extremes she’d read many a horror story of online, of physical abuse or conversion therapy, but her parents still refused to acknowledge her preferred pronouns or name, and began to threaten homeschooling her, to keep “their only son” away from “the influence of those queer friends of yours.” She refused to be homeschooled, and her parents responded that, if she insisted on this, then they wouldn’t be paying college tuition for a daughter they didn’t have. Upset to say the least, she haphazardly packed the belongings she thought of first and could fit in her backpack, and left. It was the largest decision she had made in her life, and it was completely unplanned.
Her grandma on her mother’s side lived in a small house halfway across the city, and Legacy hoped her parents hadn’t shared the news with her about her identity, because she couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. It came as a surprise not that her grandmother knew, but she actually accepted Legacy, scoffing and asking her to “give me your real name, girl” when she introduced herself grudgingly as Terrence. For the next few months, she lived there happily, upset about some of the belongings she had forgotten to bring but definitely not willing to go back to her parents, who didn’t bother to come find her (after her grandmother had sternly told them over the phone not to come unless they were going to treat their daughter right). Her grandmother bought her real girl’s clothes, and even helped her dye her hair a bright shade of bubblegum pink she’d had her eyes on for months. She finished highschool a semester early, something she had already been planning to do since before coming out. Her grandmother, unfortunately, was starting to decline in her old age. She was in stage 4 of Alzheimer’s disease, beginning to get to stage 5, when she was finally deemed no longer able to care for herself and was placed in an elderly person’s home to be cared for. By that summer, Legacy was back on the streets, preferring them against going back to her parents.
She took a job as the sole member of the “Maintenance Crew” of a cafe/coffee shop in a slightly busier part of the city in order to pay for her own living necessities and her leachie’s. From age 17 to the start of rp, Legacy worked there, cleaning up spills, keeping tabs of what sanitary supplies needed restocking, and keeping the rest of the shop sanitary. She made use of the keys she had to the shop, coming in before dawn, and definitely before opening hours, to clean the shop and then to clean herself, and fix her hair to look presentable. On particularly cold nights, she would spend the night there, more to keep her beloved pets warm than for any other reason. Though her high body temperature was usually enough to keep herself and the leachies warm, she didn’t want to risk any of them getting sick on especially stormy or windy winter nights. Most nights, she would instead find a friend happy to lend a couch for the night, or a fellow homeless person she trusted enough to watch her back while she slept next to, for safety reasons.
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Personality-
Legacy is a generally cautious and consistent person. She sticks to her daily routine and her plans rather than acting spontaneously without thought. Unexpected changes and surprises are strongly disliked, because she hates being unprepared for something and sometimes has trouble dealing with surprise changes to her own plans because of that. Besides not being a big fan of practical jokes, she tries not to act outwardly uptight or prissy in social situations, even if her careful organization, tidiness and plans may make her seem like it. Most people wouldn’t pinpoint her as a homeless kid if they saw her, because she dedicates a considerable amount of time and money to making herself look very clean and neat. Half of the backpack she wears is filled with two other outfits, which she mixes-and-matches often. When she feels like a fashion change is in order, she’ll donate some clothes and buy new replacements for them at a local clothing exchange store. 
Her careful and well-put-together nature stems from a deep fear of making mistakes. Legacy hates the thought that she might make some mistake, do something wrong that could ruin her life as it is now, or change it beyond recognition (even if the change was for the better). So instead, she chooses inactivity. Though she could probably find a permanent place to live if she got a second job and saved carefully, she doesn’t, and instead spends most of her paycheck on unnecessary things like new clothes when she no longer needs it to buy food and water for her and her pets. She waited and planned for over a year to come out to her parents, and it still didn’t end well, so now she just tries to avoid taking any risks like that again (besides hiding her gender- she’s definitely done doing that. She presents as female and uses her real, chosen name. Most people don’t even realize she wasn’t born a girl). Legacy prefers to be a follower in social situations, rather than a leader. That way, she’s less likely to take the brunt of the consequences if a wrong decision is made. Safer. She prefers being safe, and right now her routine and life is safe and predictable, so she doesn’t see a need to change it or plan to end up anywhere else in her life.
Her caution about life decisions and other areas doesn’t quite extend to the social side of her life, however. Legacy’s a people person and a definite extrovert. She likes to surround herself with new friends at any chance she gets, and has a great memory for faces and personal details. Since middle school, she hasn’t forgotten a friend’s birthday or favorite color. Stranger’s opinions generally don’t have the power to change your whole life around, so with that low-risk assessment of friendship Legacy goes at making friends with a sort of wild abandon. Her charisma isn’t exactly impressive, but that doesn’t matter when she can just walk away and try again with someone else if the first person doesn’t seem to like her all that much. Even though she could listen to details about a person she barely knows for hours, and loves to learn new details about anyone, she’s dismissive of people’s opinions, especially if they’re about her. Few people have ever managed to become such an ingrained part of Legacy’s life as to earn the title of “Friend I actually care about and will make an effort not to lose.” Legacy shows up at many a party, flitting between groups for a while usually before finding someone she likes enough to hang out with for the rest of the night or couch-crash with, but refuses to get any farther than slightly tipsy even if the drinks are free. Being drunk is far too risky a thing for her to ever have attempted, even as tempting as it sometimes was. Party-going and friend-making are a few items on the short list of things she rarely, if ever, plans for.
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Extra Facts™-
-She is, by a small percentage, a Phoenix hybrid (1/8th, or 12.5 percent to be precise) by her great-grandmother on her mother’s mother’s side. She doesn’t have the identifying wings because of her lack of more phoenix-hybrid ancestors, but does have the noticeably higher body temperature and small flame-producing ability. She doesn’t have a ton of control over the flames, and they’re likely to appear, purposefully or not, when she’s feeling strong emotions.
-her favorite color is, by far, pink. Second is light green.
-Partially because of favorite-color influence, partially because of its sweet flavor, her favorite food is watermelon.
-She isn’t a vegetarian, but she generally doesn’t like meat very much. 
-She wishes she had the spare money to afford an instrument. Legacy used to play the flute in her middle school band, and loved it, but she left it behind in her parent’s house.
-Lawful neutral
-She’s a Libra (her birthday is September 28th)
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zenithlux · 5 years
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Cadence- CH 1
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In which Vergil meets someone new, and that someone might just confuse him more than anyone else he’s met since his return from the Underworld. 
It’s here! And with an accompanying song/lyrics that I feel just fit the chapter (or something I listened to a lot while working). That will continue with every chapter because writing and music go hand and hand for me. Now, I get to share that experience with all of you!  🎶🎶
I hope you enjoy!  🥰 🥰
Hello my name is regret I’m pretty sure we have met Every single day of your life I’m the whisper inside Won’t let you forget.
Hello, My Name Is - Matthew West
After six months in the human world, Vergil still had no idea what he was doing with his life. 
He kept himself busy, of course. He took as many jobs as he could. Not because of Dante’s frequent declarations of “who better to pay off the debt!” (Vergil had done many things wrong in his life, but he would never take the blame for Dante’s current finances) but because the work gave him something to do. A purpose, if you will. For someone who often felt that the world should never have given him another chance, it was comforting to know he could do something meaningful.
Helping the small town around Devil May Cry was another one of his projects, though that was one he kept to himself. It was a small and quiet place, which was more than expected considering its location. When the twins had finally found their way out of the Underworld, they’d discovered that the town, which the citizens had unironically named ‘Haven’, was being rebuilt around the ruins of the shop. So, Dante had focused his attention on that. Not for the money potential customers would bring (though paychecks were sorely needed), but to provide some kind of assurance that the demons would never touch this small place again. 
Vergil had quietly helped with the town itself, donating a portion of his job money to the buildings that needed a little more work. And aside from a small cut that Dante demanded to “keep the lights on” (which Vergil never understood as they could see in the dark), the rest went to Nero and the orphanage in the form of anonymous donations. It wasn’t much, and Vergil knew it would never be enough. But, as Dante had told him more than once; “You can either sulk forever or move on and make up for your mistakes the best you can.” 
Today was one of the very few days Vergil had off. Since the phone had been “conveniently” unplugged that morning, there were no jobs to take. Months ago, Vergil might have argued over Dante’s “oversight”. There were always demons to deal with in a world so damaged by the Qliphoth tree. But today, he let it go. Word on the metaphorical street was that the local bookstore had finally opened its top floor with books sent from Fortuna. Vergil remembered how the owner had proudly announced that she was able to reopen with reduced prices. Rumors had circulated of another donor paying for the building’s renovation, but Vergil (regretfully) had played no part in that.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy the fruits of someone else’s labor. 
The building had an old-fashioned feel to it, as it was filled with paintings of landscapes, bouquets of flowers, and other antiques. The walls and floors were made of wood, but the building itself had been redone with red bricks. Today, it smelled of lavender and lemons from the various candles scattered about. As usual, the owner was behind the counter, reading her own book from a stack she kept on her own personal bookshelf. She was an older woman with curly white hair and wrinkly skin, but she had the energy of someone much younger. Her wide smile was oddly comforting, even for a man who’d much rather keep to himself. 
“Welcome!” She said as she set her book down. “We’ve gotten a lot more in stock since I saw you last. Especially in our new classics section.” The old woman’s eyes lit up as she let her reading glasses drop to her chest. “I’m glad our small town finally understands the value of good literature.”
“Indeed,” Vergil said with a curt nod. She was friendly, yes, but he still wasn’t one for conversation. 
The woman gestured to a set of stairs next to her. “Some things are still being organized, so let me know if you have any questions.” 
Vergil simply nodded and headed up. The top floor was virtually identical to the bottom but much larger as it stretched over the woman’s living space. The dozen or so bookshelves reached close to the ceiling and were lined up in two, long rows. In the back, Vergil saw a trio of tables but frowned when he heard the quiet voice of another person. 
Wonderful. 
He knew he shouldn’t be bothered by other people. This place needed all the patrons it could get. But he greatly preferred solitude. 
Especially when said person started talking rather loudly, and seemingly to herself. 
“This is what I was hoping to find,” the unknown woman said. “I’m glad those donations paid off.” 
That piqued his interest, as much as Vergil wanted to ignore it. No one knew who had funded the store, just as no one knew of his donations to the housing project four months ago. And a small, insufferable part of him was undeniably curious. Reconstructing this building had not been a cheap endeavor (he’d seen the numbers himself), so he often wondered what kind of person could afford such a thing. 
“Foolishness,” he thought. He didn’t come here to make acquaintances. He came here to lose himself in the book stacks and leave marginally more relaxed so he wouldn’t want to argue with his brother once he left. 
But the damn woman wouldn’t stop talking. 
“And isn’t this a beauty?” He heard a soft thud, likely a book landing on a table. “A full collection of English Poetry. I wish I had the budget for that. I’d buy it in a heartbeat.”
Vergil twitched, and his grip tightened on Yamato. It was irritating how she was somehow saying all of the right things as if she was actively trying to get his attention. But Vergil was certain she didn’t know he was here. And even if she did, there was no possible way she could predict what kind of things would entice him. 
But Vergil didn’t want to be enticed. He wanted to read. In silence. 
Frustrated, he stubbornly scanned the closest shelf, looking for anything to distract himself. This was normal. Human interactions - or humans in general - were normal. A part of him didn’t understand why he couldn’t quite get over that fact. Maybe it was his time in the Underworld, both before and after the Qliphoth Tree. Maybe it was because he hadn’t had any respect for humans until his temporary split, and now felt uncomfortable (“Guilty,” Dante’s voice echoed in his head) whenever he was around one. 
His eyes fell to a simple poetry book - English Romantics - and his thoughts dispersed in an instant. That would be enough. Now all he had to do was find a secluded corner and…
A quiet, but unmistakable chirp caught him off guard. The woman sighed in a dreamy sort of way. “I do need more supplies for something like this,” She said. “Let’s make an order to Fortuna when we get home.”
A second, louder chirp was the final straw. 
Vergil whirled around, both irritated at the intrusion and confused at why he was so annoyed with it. And when he found the woman surrounded by an absurd amount of books, he didn’t hesitate. “Do you often talk to yourself?”
She practically leaped out of her seat. A pile of books crashed to the floor, but when she moved to grab one, Vergil saw her flinch in an odd sort of pain. She sat back up and stared at them with a forlorn look on her face. “I’m not talking to my…” She trailed off as she met his gaze. “Yes. Yes, I do.” 
He watched her for a moment, assessing how best to respond to keep the conversation in his favor. She was a petite woman, and he knew he would tower over her even if she was standing. Her odd, light-blue locks were pulled back into a loosely curled ponytail, and her cheeks were spotted with a modest, but not distracting amount of freckles. Her green eyes were the most striking; much brighter than any he had seen before. That didn’t change why he had approached her in the first place. “Keep it down,” He said. “There are others here that don’t appreciate the useless chatter.” 
“I see that now, but you must be one of the quietest people in Haven.” She watched him warily, but he didn’t miss the smile when her eyes flickered to the book in his hand. “Good choice. I highly recommend it.”
As Vergil stared at her, he realized that he didn’t have much of a plan for this conversation. But, to be perfectly honest, he hadn’t expected a conversation to spark in the first place. Most people didn’t try and converse with him after such a curt demand to be quiet. But there was something about her. Something off in a way that he didn’t quite understand. So maybe this conversation would be more beneficial than he thought. So, he quickly scanned her books, hoping for a suitable topic to continue with, but was more surprised to find that her modest piles consisted of art tutorials, history books, and the stack of anatomy textbooks that had hit the floor. It wasn’t until he found a tome of poetry that he finally figured out what to say. “One should always value the classics.”
Her eyes seemed to light up as she raised her own poetry book like it was her most prized possession. For a moment, he thought her reaction childish. But, in all fairness to her, the blue cover, expertly painted pink flowers, and golden calligraphy made the entire thing rather impressive. “I like to broaden my horizons. This, for example, is a fantastic collection of every great English Poet from Keats to Wordsworth.” Vergil’s frown deepened, but she continued before he could say anything. “Though I have a special fondness for Brontё and Blake.”
That caught him off guard. Again. “Blake?” He said, annoyed at how… confused he sounded. A very small piece of him wondered how this woman dared to fluster him, but the more rational half realized how childish that sounded. 
“He’s sorely underrated nowadays,” The woman said, clearly unaware of the chaos in Vergil’s mind. “There’s too much of a fascination with Shakespeare. Even Keats and Wordsworth get more attention than Blake. A crying shame I tell you.” She gave a dramatic sigh as she set the book back down. “But alas, I do not have the kind of time to explore such interesting topics in my old age”. 
Vergil wasn’t certain what her definition of “old age” was, as she looked about as young as he did. Though, considering how slowly he’d aged in the Underworld that wasn’t saying much. “I see.”
“What about you?”
That time, he said nothing. He wasn’t certain why, as the answer to that question was both easy and obvious. But this conversation had already spun out of his control, and he wasn’t about to admit it. The woman’s eyebrows furrowed. “Uhh… right,” She said. “I’ll just go back to… talking to myself. But quieter this time.”
“That won’t help,” He muttered. 
“Well, I can’t go home for another half an hour so…”
Vergil huffed as she reached for one of her art books. He could feel the war within his head; one side demanding that he walk away, and the other pushing him to talk. V would talk if only to defend his favorite poet. But Vergil would… do something else… maybe.
“Blake is far superior to others of his time.”
The woman’s face lit up again, and Vergil felt an uncomfortable and strange surge of satisfaction at the sight. “Most would disagree with you.”
“And they’d be wrong.” 
She laughed. “Care to support your argument?”
Vergil’s eyes narrowed, but his mind raced. A cordial debate then. That was something he could handle. “His works are art given life through his passion. He wrote for a great cause, and never shied away from the issues and progress of his time. He was a visionary, if you will.”
“The same could be said for Wordsworth and Keats. All three were the Romantic Poets of their era.”
“Blake is the most prolific,” Vergil said. “Who never let his relative obscurity hinder his writing. His focus on the future is much more valuable than dwelling in the past or on the present.”
“All three explored similar topics,” She countered, her eyes never wavering from his own. He could see glitters of excitement, and he swore her face had flushed from passion alone. “All three searched for meaning in one’s existence. And while I think looking to the future is certainly valuable, remembering one’s past and the trials can create a sense of hope for the direction they’re heading in.”
Vergil paused. Not because he didn’t have more to say, but because her words hit him a bit harder than he expected. Hope? Maybe a simple human could find hope in their past, but his was nothing but failures and mistakes. He felt his eyes narrow and didn’t miss the way her smile faltered at that alone. “Though I will admit,’ She said slowly. “I’ve always found Blake’s approach to be more… comforting.”
Vergil didn’t know what she was getting at, nor did he know why she was trying to argue in his favor. “Then you agree with me.”
“I never said I didn’t. I just enjoy a good debate.” She shrugged. “Growth is inevitable. The world is harsh, but pain is often necessary to push a person to where they truly need to be.”
Vergil paused again, as the wisdom he’d gained as V circled through his mind. While he would never admit it outright (especially not around his family), he’d been quite humbled after splitting himself. His recollection of both halves was hazy at best, but V’s memories were more prominent. His feelings towards humanity were more real than Urizen’s overwhelming desire for power. He still recalled the guilt he’d felt once he’d realized what he’d done, and how determined he had been to fix it. He’d had nothing. No power. No future. No hope. Yet… V had kept going. V had fought the demon Vergil had believed better than his human half in every way. And while this conversation with her certainly wasn’t as dangerous or world-ending under any circumstances, Vergil could feel V tugging at his mind; reminding of him what he fought for. “If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to a man as is.”
“Infinite,” She finished. 
A shrill ring echoed around them. And while she reached for her heart in another burst of panic, Vergil simply glanced at the phone she’d left on the table. When she grabbed it, she grimaced. “Unfortunately, this is a call I can’t ignore.” She reached for the smallest stack of books - two art, and one anatomy. Odd choices, but Vergil wasn’t one to judge - before reaching for the poetry book. “Please take this,” She said as she held it out to him. “I’d hate for it to end up on the shelf of someone who can’t appreciate it.” 
After a brief moment of hesitation, Vergil took it. Her smile returned as she tossed a side-bag over her shoulder. “I’ll let Maybelle know I made the mess. She’s more than used to it by now.” She bowed her head ever so slightly. “Thank you for talking with me, and I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
Vergil tensed as she passed him by. His demonic senses flared to life as he realized what had been bothering him all along. Something was off about her. Inhuman. But it was so minuscule that he barely noticed. It wasn’t like Dante or Nero who exuded the confidence and power of their demon-selves, but it was something he didn’t recognize. A spike of energy that dissipated the moment she left. She couldn’t be demonic; he would have felt that from a mile away. But...
“Hey, Verge!”
His frown turned to an immediate scowl as Dante’s voice echoed from downstairs. “I’m sorry to bother ya!” He said in an unapologetic tone. “But we got important business to deal with.” 
Vergil rolled his eyes. “And here I thought the phone was off.”
“It is,” Dante said. “This was a personal visit.”
That, unfortunately, was vastly more important than whatever demonic thing the woman was involved in. Tucking the books under his arm - might as well take something for his time - he blinked as close to the counter as he could get without startling the owner. Dante was already there, leaning against it with that annoying grin on his face. “I’ll take these,” Vergil said, ignoring him completely. 
“You’re all good to go,” The owner said as she tapped the blue poetry book. “I’m glad that’s going to a good home. One of the few I considered buying for myself.”
Vergil blinked. “How much…”
“Oh Roxanna bought it for you,” She said as she fished through a nearby drawer. “And this.” Vergil’s eyes widened as she set an exquisite bookmark on top of the pile. A dark blue sky with stars that seemed to glisten off the plastic itself. Black yarn was braided on the top, with a small star charm hanging to the side. On the bookmark was a very familiar quote; “No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings.” 
“I don’t…”
Dante yanked the bookmark out of his hand, inspecting it as if it were a priceless diamond. His eyes widened when he flipped it over. “She gave you her number!?” He groaned as he slapped his hand to his forehead. “I can’t believe you got a cute chick’s number before me.”
Vergil snatched it back. “I did not…” He trailed off as his eyes fell to it. 
Impossible.
She… wanted to talk to him again? That’s what a phone number meant right? No one had ever done that before, but he’d avoided anything but casual small talk, preferring to keep to himself. 
Did he want to talk to her again?
Why did he feel so strange?
Foolish.
“So when ya gonna call her?” Dante said.
Vergil glared at him. “We have a job, yes?”
Dante rolled his eyes as he spun toward the door. “Off we go then.”
Vergil glanced at the bookmark again. The woman gently pushed the books toward him. “Don’t forget these,” She said with a genuine smile. “I hope to see you again soon.”
“Let’s go, Verge!” Dante shouted from outside. “I’m not getting any younger.”
“I apologize for his…” Everything. “Behavior.”
The woman chuckled. “I don’t mind. It’s nice to see people again.”
After another moment of quiet thought, Vergil tucked the bookmark into his gift and left. 
Read on AO3 Master List
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izzy-b-hands · 4 years
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10, 12, n 39 😎
Hey!!! Thank you for asking!!
10.  What talent do you wish you had?
I’d love to be able to sing like Freddie or play piano like Booker (I just watched the doc about his life and Harry Connick Jr shows how he played and like!!!!!! Shit is wildly difficult; I could never even attempt lol.) I can sing decently when I try, and my piano playing is....bad but it does technically exist lmao. If I can’t have more time to practice like I want, then I wish I could just somehow gain one of those talents.
12.  What do you think about the most?
Oh god...A Lot. Imagine like...a computer with like so many tabs open that the browser finally says ‘no you can’t open anymore unless you close at least one of these that’s already up.’ That’s my head lol. 
Some of the recurring tabs however (that y’all may have guessed from what I blog about): 
-Queen (in general) -Freddie specifically and then usually each member of the band in turn (gotta be fair) -Other guys I have crushes on (again, y’all have seen my tags...you know who is on that list lol)  -The crushing fear that I have no future and will not amount to anything and thus far am a 25 year old waste of space  -My job and how likely I am to be fired due to our new boss -The idea of finding a new job which usually results in a fruitless two day search that then pauses for two weeks before this thought rotates in and I do this all over again - My family and various worries and frustrations re: them -Bills  -How I can try and help people in the world because it keeps me awake at night to know people are suffering (this includes subsections such as what if I changed my job, only to find I’m not qualified for any jobs that would allow me to help others, and wait maybe I can donate more, only to realize I have to wait till my next paycheck because paying bills got in the way of donating more.)  -Random and varied story ideas -Just song lyrics? Like my brain has a radio station but they’re really bad at their job. I can memorize song lyrics easily, can know a whole song, and still hear just the chorus or just a part of it (right now it’s just the riff and the chorus of Stone’s Throw From Hurtin’.)  -Death (when I’ll die, if people will respect my wishes re: what to do with me and my writing after I die, where I’ll die, you know, #JustMillennialThings, jk I refuse to believe there aren’t people of varying ages constantly worrying about death because how could they not be???) 
And that’s just the usual rotation, this isn’t including the random stuff that barges in and adds itself to the mix (like that night I spent over four hours googling info about shipwrecks because???? I still don’t know, but now I know stuff about shipwrecks.) 
39.  How often do you listen to music?
 A lot, tbh. As much as I can manage, to the point that I usually try and low key schedule it if I have to?
Like, I’ll try and listen to some during work since I’m work from home for now, pausing it as I take phone calls of course, but if that doesn’t feel like enough than I usually set aside part of the evening to pull up Spotify or watch a few concert videos on Youtube. 
I’ve been able to do a lot more as a result of staying home, and it has been a gift. Back before COVID and when I was still in the office, I really had to schedule it, setting aside part of my lunch breaks for it or popping on my headphones while Mum and I would walk to her car, even if that meant listening to like...five minutes of a song. 
It’s been that way since middle school though, that if I don’t get some time to listen to music I feel uncomfortable and unsettled, and don’t feel better until I’ve played some. That’s probably something to unpack with my therapist some day, but for now it just means I buy a lot of music and music merch, and that’s got to be a good thing for the artists at least. 
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theewrites-tf2 · 5 years
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{OPEN} Writing Commissions!
Because college textbooks/fees/the-general-experiences are INSANELY expensive, and being unemployed means I have to seek out additional/potential unusual sources of income:
I'm opening up writing '5 for 500' commissions!!!
'5 for 500' meaning that for the low price of ONLY $5.00 USD, you get 500 words of writing from ol' Theewrites-TF2 herself!!!
Below are ALL potential questions, information, contact information and anything else that you may be interested if you are searching for a commission by yours truly!!! 
Additional Questions can be sent via my contact information, which can be found below!!! I look forward to hearing from you, and if you don’t have the resources to ask for a commission at this time, reblogging and spreading this around is JUST as beneficial for me! Thank you very much!!! 
-------
"What fandoms will you do?"
While I am primarily a Team Fortress 2 blog, I am well-versed in a wide variety of fandoms! And, of course, I am happy to write original content, and I'm even willing to do some research for fandoms I am unaware of!!!
"What are you willing to write?"
I have certain personal boundaries, that one may inquire about in private messages, but I am open to initially anything, and hold no judgement! 
From professorial-articles, to fandom pieces, to one shots, scripts, to personalized content, i’m available to provide any kind of writing material!
 As I am over 18, I am also willing to write NSFW material, so long as it is within my personal boundaries of writes, AND the person covering IS over 18.
Not 17 and 11 months, no, if you will be ordering NSFW writing commission, I will INSIST that you are over 18. This is not just a professional and legal boundary I refuse to cross, but it’s also something that personally effects my own code of ethics, and I cannot jeopardize those personal feelings for the sake of a paycheck.  I will NOT be writing any form of NSFW content for minors, but I have plenty of SFW writing experience that's more suitable for those under 18!!!
"What if I want more than 500 words?"
500 words is my writing base, and for a dollar per 100 words, I believe it is a suitable, affordable offer! However, for those that enjoy the initial 500 words of writing so much that they want more, my fees DO go up, from $1.00 USD per 100 words, to $1.50 per 100 words!
Ex: 1000 words= $12.50 USD
"Payment options?"
PayPal, an invoice will be send from my personal Gmail account once a commission deal has been decided on! However, I am also considering opening a Ko-fi site or other, so for those who want to donate instead of commissioning, they are able to do so!!!
“How long will you take to write commissions?”
As soon as a price/word-range is agreed upon, I will begin the first draft of the piece! 500-word pieces will take be finalized and presented exactly 5 business-days following the payment! 
Larger pieces can take up to 7-10 business-days to complete, with ample updates and sneak-peeks if so required!
I will be requiring payment before I begin my work, and I will also offer the opportunity to be sent updates/sneak-peeks! This will not only provide the commissioner opportunity to go over my work so far and comment or suggest changes, but it will also allow the commissioner to see my writing style and what the finalized project will look like! 
Please don’t hesitate to comment or critique my writing, my goal is to provide entertaining writing pieces to those paying for my work, and I am willing to change my material for the sake of my clients entertainment!
"What about your dozen other writing projects?"
A bit more personal, but I hope you guys understand when I say I am SO. CLOSE. I am less than TWO semester away from earning my college degree in English, this is a DREAM for me, not to mention how beneficial it is for me to obtain it!!! This is the first REAL step for me to gain credit in the writing world, gain a reputation and, dare I say it, earn money by doing what I LOVE.
And don't misunderstand, I LOVE Team Fortress 2, and I want nothing more than to expand, and give y'all some of the BEST stories my mind can conjure!!! But, for the moment, my Team Fortress 2 fics will be placed on TEMPORARY hold, though don't be shocked if you get the random update!!! Right now, however, Thee's gotta go and get her diploma!!!
Contact Information:
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munofsilver · 5 years
Text
Hidden Secret Chapter 10
Summary: Nathaniel is worried about what Lila would do while at lunch with his little sister. That's not what he should be worried about. You can also read it here. 
Natalie’s friend enters Nathaniel’s business. “Hi, Kayla,” both siblings say as she walks in.
“Haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?” Nathaniel ask.
“Fine. Thanks for asking. How are you?” Kayla says.
Nathaniel is one of the few people she’s not shy around and able to talk to clearly. Its because she and Natalie have been friends since they were six and Nathaniel is Natalie’s older brother. “I’m fine,” Nathaniel smiles.
“Anyways we shouldn’t be late,” Natalie says pushing Kayla out the door.
Nathaniel just laughs. He starts to go over his debit and credit card purchase for last month. While looking over things the business owner noticed something odd. Just to make sure he goes over them again. “That can’t be right. Something must be wrong with the card reader,” he says to himself.
He calls someone to come over and check it. They won’t be able to come here until tomorrow morning. That’s fine, Nathaniel just won’t be able to accept card payments until then. Maybe he should close early if that’s the case. Since most people like to pay that way.
Natalie and Kayla are there before Lila, so they get a table while they wait. Natalie being herself forgot to tell Lila that Kayla was coming, that would be the reason why Lila was both surprised and angry when she walked in and saw the two. Now not the time for that. Lila puts on her usual happy fake smile as she makes her way over to them.
“Hello, Natalie. How’s your friend?” She as she hugs Natalie. “Sorry for not saying earlier. I hope you don’t mind. This is Kayla. We’re going somewhere after lunch here with you. That’s why she’s here,” Natalie rubs the back on her head. “This is Lila.”
“Nice to meet you, Kayla.” Lila takes her seat and opens the menu next to her.
The other two girls also open the menus next to them. Once the waiter took their order, the three girls talk while waiting for their meal to be done. This is when Lila puts her plan into action. It doesn’t matter that the other one is there as long as she doesn’t interfere. “The waiter was kind of cute isn’t he,” the dark side of Lila has come out to play.
“He is, but I think he’s too old for me,” Natalie takes another look at him.
Right now he’s at another table handing the people their drinks. Natalie’s remark made Lila laugh, “That may be true. By my guess, I say he’s in his late twenties. Then again I could be wrong. I’m sure there are guys at your school that I’m sure you think are cute.”
Natalie stops drinking from her soda and thinks a bit, “Of course, but I’m not ready for that stuff.”
“Good for you, Natalie. You have a good head on your shoulders. You’re smart just like your brother and mother,” Lila smiles.
Natalie feels a bit embarrassed for some reason. She never thought of herself as a smart girl. Hearing someone saying that, was something Natalie never thought she would hear. Maybe from Kayla, but she’s a friend, that have to say nice things, right. “Speaking of which, I visit your brother shortly after I returned. He told me about a date he has this Saturday. I hope this person will treat him well,” Lila takes a sip of her drink, her eyes right on Natalie as she does.
Natalie has a huge smile on her face. Like she’s pleased about something. The teen is ready to talk, just like Lila wanted. Now the trickster will get all the information she needs to start the second phase of her plan.
Tonight is the last night of Chloe and Sabrina’s cooking class. Chloe was kind of sad it’s ending. She never knew cooking could be fun. There is a baking class starting next month maybe she’ll take that. Then a thought pop in her head. She better check and sees who the teacher is. Chloe doesn’t want any more old college classmates teaching her.
Chloe is on good terms with Marinette now. Doesn’t mean she wants Marinette to teach her. On another thought, she’s not sure if she wants Marinette’s parents to teach her either. Not that they would when they have their own bakery to run.
After class, Mrs. Schwanke thanked everyone for joining her class. Chloe even bought her teacher thanks for teaching me gift. An idea she had all on her own. Making Sabrina proud of her. Chloe looks into the baking class. The teacher is Mrs. Schwanke, so she signs up for it. “Would you like to join also?” Chloe asked Sabrina.
“Could be fun,” Sabrina signs up for class.
Sabrina drops Chloe off at her new place. “Want to come inside and check it out?” Chloe asked.
“About time you offered.”
They both laugh as Sabrina puts her keys in her purse. Before they enter, Chloe shows Sabrina what to press to call her so she can buzz Sabrina in. On the sixth floor, they go to Chloe’s new home. Number 601, Sabrina writes that down in the small notebook she always carries with her. Chloe opens the door and lets Sabrina in first. “What do you think? It came with some furniture. Not much, but better than nothing,” Chloe closes the door.
“What all came with the place?” Sabrina is taking off her jacket.
Chloe hangs up Sabrina’s jacket in the closet. “What you see is all I got,” Chloe puts her own coat away.
Sabrina walks around taking a look at everything in her line of sight. “Where do you sleep?” Sabrina notices both bedrooms are empty.
“On the couch in the living room. Someone was going to toss it out so I asked if I could have it instead, same with the table in the kitchen and the chairs with it.”
“That’s all you have some stools, a couch, and a table with three chairs. You need to get some furniture.”
“Would if I could. Can’t afford any right now. My next paycheck is this Thursday. I was thinking of buying some cheap used furniture.”
“If you want you can have the all the things that were in your old room at my place,” Sabrina suggested. “I can ask Max and Kim to help move those. I should have offered in the first place.”
“It’s okay. That would be nice, don’t you need them?” Chloe not sure how much handouts she wants.
Then again it does hurt sleeping on the couch all the time. What day would be best? She works every weekday this week, and there’s the mistake, date with Nathaniel on Saturday. It looks like either Friday or Sunday.
“I don’t really need them. I was going to donate the stuff anyways when Max and I got married anyway.” “In that case. Either Friday or Sunday works for me.”
Sabrina will make the call when she gets home.
The next day Malissa worked until two. She was able to dodge Nathaniel this time. He can in this morning when it was busy and even though he wanted too and try to get to Malissa first. Sadly someone else was free to take his order. Nathaniel did wave at Malissa before he left.
Now done with work and more than enough time to have something to eat and looks for a place that has cheap used furniture. Little did she know that someone was waiting for her.
“Sabrina, what are you doing here?”
“Sorry I didn’t know when you got off work, so I came here. Max and Kim will be able to help move Sunday. They will meet at my place at two. Just wanted you to know. Also to make sure that you still need a ride to your class and home this evening.”
“You know I do. I don’t have a car. Just remember the time you need to pick me up. Both to and from class,” Malissa laughs.
Sabrina leaves as Malissa enters the building. She was able to find a place that has cheap furniture. Malissa will be able to go there after work on Thursday. As soon as she gets her paycheck. After dinner and made a little snack for the class, tonight Chloe reads her special book. Now that she lives alone she doesn’t have to hide it.
An hour before class and Chloe needs to become Malissa. With her wig and contacts in place, she grabs a Malissa jacket and leaves the apartment. She left the building to see not Sabrina but Lila there waiting. Chloe never got along with Lila in college. Even though Chloe is trying to make up for everything she did. Lila is one person that Chloe didn’t do anything to.
They just avoided each other all through college. In lycee Chloe never even seen Lila. Why is she here? Is Lila waiting for Malissa or Chloe? Malissa looks around she doesn't see Sabrina anywhere. Why isn't Sabrina here? Checking her phone, she does have a text from Sabrina. “Hello, Malissa. My name is Lila, and I need to talk to you. Don't worry I'll take you to your class so you won't be late. I work everything out with Sabrina.”
Malissa puts her phone in her bag. “Hello, Lila nice to meet you. How do you know me?”
Lila just smiles and leads Malissa to her car, “I’ll tell you everything on the way. You don’t want to be late now.”
Malissa follows but stays at least a foot behind Lila. They get inside Lila’s car, and she drives off. “I told Sabrina that I’ll take you to class. She will take you home. A little dragonfly told me all about you and your date with Nathaniel on Saturday.”
Malissa quickly looks out the window to make sure Lila not up to something. She’s happy to know they are indeed going the right way.  Lila smile turns into an evil grin. They soon arrived at Nathaniel’s studio. Before Malissa could leave Lila locks the door and grabs Melissa's shoulders.
“Here’s the thing. Listen to me closely. Don’t ask questions. I’ll be nice and give you until Friday. If you don’t break off the date with Nathaniel, I’ll tell everyone your little secret. Wondering how I know. Let’s just say I have my ways.”
She unlocks the door and Malissa now scared out of her mind gets out. With her heart pounding like it’s trying to escape from her chest, Malissa runs. She won’t be going to class tonight.
Nathaniel tried to find where the girls were having lunch. He’s using taking Alice for a walk as an excuse for when he sees them. Right now the lost artist is kicking himself for not asking. Then again if he did and just show up might make Natalie upset or thinking he doesn’t trust her. In reality, he doesn’t trust Lila. About an hour later with no luck, the dog walker gave up and returned Alice home. After checking the little doggy’s water bowl, he leaves. Natalie will feed her when she gets home.
He also needs his own lunch. After lunch, he calls Natalie. “Hello.” “His little sis. How's your day going?” “You want to know how my lunch with Lila went.” “No. I want to tell you I took Alice for a walk today.” “And to see how my lunch with Lila went. We only talked that's all.” “What did you talk about?” “You.” “Only me?” “And Malissa.” “Did you give Lila, Malissa's number?” “No. Only told Lila were Malissa lives.” Nathaniel knew that can’t be good. He ends the call in full panic. “This can’t be good. Lila won’t act right away thankfully. She likes to plan first. I know Malissa is working tomorrow. I can get some coffee and warn. That will give Malissa and I plenty of time to think of a counter to Lila.”
Nathaniel knows of how Lila can get people to believe her even if she’s lying. Worse fall into her traps. In the morning before he does anything else, Nathaniel goes to the charming coffee place Malissa works at. He seems to have come in at a busy time.
Sadly he wasn’t able to talk to her or find a table. Poor Nathaniel had to take his drink to go. For the rest of the morning, he keeps thinking if he should call her and leave a message. It takes some time for Lila to come up with a plan. Tonight at class he will talk to her for sure.
Nathaniel stands outside his studio waiting for a particular student to show up. When a black car with tinted windows pulled up, he wonders who that could be. Something must be wrong when Malissa comes out. That’s not Sabrina’s car. Nathaniel can tell something is wrong when he sees a panic scared looking Malissa run off.
Nathaniel wants to chase after her, but his class starts soon, and he has other students. He could tell them that class will be late or cancel and then go after her. Then the other students would think something is up between them and they don’t want that. What should be doing? He wants to help all his students. Nathaniel knows he needs to talk to Malissa.
The one that drove Malissa is wasn’t Sabrina. Who was it? What if it was Lila? If so than Nathaniel wasn’t able to warn Malissa and Lila works faster than he thought. Standing there with time running out Nathaniel has to decide what to do and fast.
Lila was beaming evilly all the way to her place. She even laughs to herself a bit. Lila Rossi loves it when her plans come together. Now home she pours herself a glass of red wine. Taking a sip, Lila grabs her little planner and makes a checkmark by Melissa's name.
“Now with that little miss student out of the way, next will be to help poor little artist boy mend his broken heart. Then he will want me as his girlfriend,” Lila laughs. At first, Lila didn’t think her plan would work. She didn’t give herself the amount of time she usually does.
Unfortunately, she doesn't have much time to act if she wants her plan to work. Lila doesn’t even know if Malissa is hiding anything, she just took a lucky guess. To be safe Lila did come up with a backup plan if Malissa didn’t end things with Nathaniel. At least Lila had time for that.
Malissa can’t seem to stop running. She doesn’t even know where she’s going. All she knows is that she needs to get away. Away from people, Nathaniel, Lila, everything. Tripping is the only thing that caused her to stop running. Lucky she not hurt. Unlucky for Malissa, Chloe is losing control and starts to cry.
“How did Lila find out that Malissa is Chloe? The only one that knows is Sabrina and Daddy, neither of them would tell Lila,” Malissa was able to say through her tears.
Hugging her knees, she cries like her tears have no end to them. Her makeup is ruined, but neither Malissa or Chloe cares at this point. Chloe didn’t want Nathaniel to go on a date with Malissa at first. Now she was hoping to use Malissa as a way to get to know Nathaniel better so when he sees Chloe next, she will be able to make up for all she did better.
Right now things are falling apart so fast sadly Chloe doesn’t know what to do or what Malissa should do. Today is Wednesday Lila gave Chloe until Friday to tell Nathaniel there will be no date. “You’re going to be late for class.”
A soft calming voice made Malissa lift her head. She can’t see things clearly until she wipes the tears away. “Your makeup is all messed up.”
“Sabrina, what are you doing here?” Malissa takes the tissue Sabrina was handing her.
“I had a feeling you would need a friend,” Sabrina sits down next to her friend, no matter who is she at the moment.
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teamoliv-archive · 5 years
Text
Interlude: Picking Up the Pieces
Violet wasn’t sure how long she had stared at her uncle’s body at the modest funeral they had put together. Several grateful people in the kingdom had helped donate materials or money to give a proper burial one of the huntsmen who helped save people from the attack that was currently being blamed on cult that grew out of a White Fang splinter group. She hadn’t heard about Cobalt Ymir’s death until after it was all over. It had taken several weeks for things to return to what was as close to normal as they could be anymore.
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“Do you think he would have been proud of us?”
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“If he knew half of what we had to do to get here, I’d say so. Lapis stood nearby with what was left of their team. They were the only ones of the four present save for Lazuli who decided to stay for emotional support. Ivory didn’t dare show herself and he didn’t even want to think about Onyx right now. Everything about the end of that fight still haunted him. “He believed in us, even when we didn’t.”
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Violet forces a smile and nods, wiping some tears away. “You’re right. What matters now is that we don’t forget that.” She turned around when she heard her name being called.
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“Hey there, Sundrop, I hope I’m not interuptin’ anything. I need to talk with you for a bit, okay?”
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“Sure. Hey, Dad, I don’t think you ever met my partner from Atlas. This is Lapis and his sister, Lazuli.”
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“It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
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“You guys need a minute?”
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“Actually, you might want to stick around for this.” Shin explains, “We’re going to have to head back home soon.”
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“We can’t go so soon!” Violet protests, The Dustwings aren’t really in good enough shape to help the city rebuild yet. They’re going to need huntsmen and huntresses out here.”
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“You’re right, but I want to know if you noticed somethin’ about those safe houses. Notice how empty they are?”
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“They look packed to me.” Lazuli notes, watching the throngs of injured and recently homeless crowding around the area. ”Violet’s right. There’s too many mouths and not enough help. We can’t just... not do something. Maybe you need to leave but we can’t. If we send a letter home I’m sure they’ll understand.”
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“That’s exactly the problem. Tyrael Cheshire packed up his goons masqueradin’ as help and left already. He snuck his way back to Solitas and to be blunt, our families might be danger. The Dustwings will have help soon. That militia that saved Haven’s still around, I think.” Shin looked to Violet with a nod. “I spoke with your brother.”
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“You found Robin!? What happened?” Violet caught her breath and cursed herself for having missed him again. “Where? What did he say?”
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“That ‘Red Arena’ might be gone but it won’t be long before Cheshire just throws his money into a new project. Robin claims he’s going to target us soon. We need to get back to Mantle to make sure nothin’ happens to them.”
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“Dad....” Violet shook her head, “Mom’s a huntress, too, I think the two of you can take care of yourselves. I- I can’t leave yet. The Dustwings need help and we’re here to do exactly that. Besides... we have some people who need us more than ever now. Lapis and I might have homes to go back to, but half of us don’t.”
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Shin let out a sigh. “You know, he told me you’d say that. I guess I should accept you’re a big strong girl now. Here.” Shin holds out a scroll to her. “Hold onto this. We managed to get some replacements for everyone. It’s got a message for you, too.”
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“What’s it say?” Lauzli says, peering over Violet’s shoulder.
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Violet opened the scroll to an audio message. She recognized the voice instantly.
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“Hey, Sis.
Sorry I didn’t catch you when I talked to Dad. Well, I guess I’m sorry about a lot of things. I know it won’t make anythin’ better but this is all I’ve got for now. You did a good job out there, you know? I’ve got some information on this scroll you’ll need to know. Jade didn’t work alone. He’s got friends- and if you stick around, you’ve gotta watch out for them, and don’t think his old paycheck’s going to forget what happened to his daughter, either. But, hey, you kids took down some pretty nasty people. So long as you stick together, you’ll do fine.
“I’m not gonna say you won’t ever see me again, but I’ve got my own things to take care of right now. In the meantime, keep bein’ who I couldn’t, and tell that tin can of a Lieutenant I said hello, would ya? We went to Atlas together.”
“I'm bad at showin’ it, but I love you, Violet.  Make everyone proud.”
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“Robin... I just finished crying...” She smiles and rubs her eyes gently.
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“So you’re staying then?” Lapis asks after a few more moments. “We’ll need to find Reynard soon. I don’t really want to leave her or her crazy friend unattended.”
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”I can go find them,” Lauzli replies, “I think you guys need to get a few other things straightened out. Don’t you both have people to say goodbye to still?”
______________
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Ivory takes a deep breath, having gotten far away from the small gathering in the ruined square. She and Molly made it a point not to be seen by anyone. They were recognized by a lot of the populace in the district. She feared retaliation for Jade’s failure to protect them as promised. The news that he had been killed had not been kind of either of them, but Ivory felt a strange serenity in it. Though, she had her family and Onyx growing up. Jade Leroux was a lot of things to her- a mentor and master first and foremost but to Molly he was the closest thing to a father she likely had. She entered one of the ruined houses where they promised to meet. “Hey, how are you holding up?”
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Molly sat in the middle of her ring weapon, letting it rest on the floorboards. “About as good as I can be. Honestly, I’m glad we’re both still alive but...” She balls her hands into fists and starts shaking.
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“What are we going to do now? No one here’s going to give us anything. They have new real heroes now, right? They don’t want us. Even your stupid team is being talked about.”
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“Yeah, well as far as fuck-ups go this could have been a lot worse.”
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Ivory spins around and draws her ax immediately. “What are you doing here!?”
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“I’m here to come clean, okay? I’m layin’ it all out on the table to let you figure out what to do next besides sit here and not know. Yes, I killed my uncle. I basically killed Jade, too. I’m not askin’ you to forgive me for either of those things and I ain’t here to gloat.”
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“Then what!?” Molly darts up and spins around, standing with her wheel around her. “You’ve always hated us!”
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“You’re right.” Robin says, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it. “You want to know why? I want you to look at my little sister and then ask yourself, what if she wound up like you? How about you look at Darcie and her crazy parade and ask if you want to see each other in a place like that years from now?” He watches the two girls stare at him and then each other in awkward silence. “You’re wasted potential is what you are. I made my choice when I had a mind to do so. You were snatched away as kids. I ain’t blind. You two are damn near siblings to one another and as weird as it’s gonna sound comin’ from me, I’m glad for it. So I’m tellin’ you right now- you can either sit here and cry over what you lost like Lilac Cheshire did, or pick yourselves up and have your own fuckin’ lives for once.”
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“And do what? We can’t just become huntresses just like that! What, do you think we’re just going to pick up our stuff show up with your sister and her friends and walk off into the sunset like some stupid fairy tail!?”
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“Why not? S’what I’m doin’. Well, sort of. See, I’m plannin’ on makin’ Tyrael Cheshire’s life a livin’ hell and all his buddies with his creepy business partner at Ciar to boot; so I’m grabbin’ my old team together. We’re about to make some noise and make off with whatever we can in the process.”
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Ivory trembles as she thought of Onyx, holding his bloody body in her arms. “We all fought together in the end.” She mutters to herself, “M-Maybe we can do it again.” She turns to Molly and holds out her hand.
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“I’m not doing this without you, you know that. I promised I wouldn’t abandon you. You won’t be alone again.”
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Molly didn’t say anything for the longest time. She heard Robin’s footsteps leave the building without even saying goodbye. “Sure, fine, just stalk off...” She says to herself before staring at Ivory. Her mind flashed a moment to that girl from the Arena.
‘I forgive you.’
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“Fine.” Her reply was reluctant and slow, but maybe something good could come out of this. “You know... I always wanted to be a huntress as a little girl.”
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“We can at least give a shot, right?”
_____________
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“It is going to take a while to rebuild.” The elderly huntress says, having donned a new mask and walking the streets. The kingdom had already heard rumors of the elusive “Mother Marianne” sighted in Mistral- it was time to show that face again.
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“Yeah.” Morado still hadn’t even begun to process everything he had learned about his fiance in recent weeks, let alone grieving. “We’re staying right here, though. Mistral’s not about to turn us over to Atlas needing us as much as they do. Besides, I should have been able to stop this. Lilac... If I had known maybe I could have done something more to help her.”
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“Some would take you for a fool, but I believe we need more people like you in this world, Lieutenant. But if I may be so bold as to give you some sage advice, don’t dwell on who you couldn’t save. Look to see who you can. It will never get easier. I can promise you that.
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“Every victim, every lost soul, every life lost still hurts me whenever I come across it. Having a heart is not a weakness, but do not let it turn into guilt. You have to be the one these people look up to now. You’re all they have left anymore.”
“Lieutenant!” “Marianne!”
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Lapis and Violet rushed to their side, breathing heavily. They had been running back and forth looking for them. “There you are. We needed to talk to you.”
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“Did something happen?”
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“Well, sort of? Not yet. We’re going to be leaving soon. Lieutenant, if I could have permission to-”
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“Granted.”
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“That was... quick.”
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“We’re grabbing Reynard and her crazy friend to try and set them back up. Hopefully in a way that won’t get anybody arrested or killed this time, but we need to get them out of the kingdom first- at least until things calm down some more.”
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“Rather noble of you to give them a second chance.” The elderly huntress replies, “They will need good guidance to put themselves back together, let alone on the proper path.”
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“Let’s just say we owe our team leader a favor. Before that collapse, he still tried to reach out to his sister even when she tried to blow us all to kingdom come. If he could believe in a second chance like that, we can.”
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“Besides, there’s still whatever Robin left on this scroll. Something about another operation like Jade Leroux’s. Apparently he wasn’t alone.”
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“If I may see that?” Marianne had a feeling she already knew what it was about. Jade’s sadistic other half was just as ruthless as he had been and perhaps even more twisted. “I would like to copy this. You will not need to worry about her.”
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“I hope you don’t plan on keeping me out of the loop this time. If there’s something else going on, we’re staying to help.”
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“It is a long story, I will have to tell you later. For the time being, children, do not worry about Darcie. I have an old score to settle with her. I worry that Leroux’s death will make her more unpredictable, though. It is best if you leave that to us. Go find your friends and get ready to go.”
______________
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“We’re almost there.” Lauzli announced, leading Ivory and Molly out to a clearing outside the kingdom. It was surprisingly easy for them to leave with all the commotion. She stayed a small distance from the two, but kept feeling eyes on her.
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“H-Hey. Kid.”
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“Yeah?”
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“Thanks for... you know... back during the fight. Not the ‘saving me’ part the... ‘I forgive you’ part.”
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“I managed to figure out what your old boss was doing. How he was doing it. You guys didn’t realize did you?”
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“We’re... still... processing that.” Ivory states, trying to ignore a suppressed angry look from Molly. The idea that their emotions were being directly toyed with through a semblance was a heart-wrenching thought, but a long time without it present felt strange. Things made a bit more sense with that context but she worried what that took away from her actual feelings. Where did any actual ideas or thoughts begin and Jade’s old influence end? Was that really a bad thing? She couldn’t imagine Molly wasn’t going through a similar internal crisis.
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Lapis was standing firmly next to a large rock, his gear ready to go already. “You all set? I know a few nearby villages that know my face. We can get you some work and get your feet wet. You sure this is what you want to do?”
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“What else do we have anymore?” Molly admits, her tone more flat than it used to be, “You sure you’re okay having two people who tried to kill you follow you around?”
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“Oh, I’m not worried, we put our best in charge right beside yours truly.”
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Ivory frowns, unable to really bring herself to reach for her ax like she used to. “It’s not going to be the same without him.”
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“No one said it has to be.” Violet keeps walking through the trees to another figure waiting nearby.
“I did say we put our best in charge.”
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_____________
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Tyrael Cheshire had been quieter than usual ever since returning to Atlas. He had been absorbed in work both regarding retrieving money from Jade Leroux’s failed operation as well as the troubling news of the deaths of both his children. The official record deviated from what actually happened, of course, but it affected him nonetheless. Today would be when that turned around.
“Sir, Auroras Hallward here to see you.”
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“Auroras Hallward of Blood Brothers LLC at your service, Mr. Cheshire. We will offer you the absolute best in elite mercenary services! No job out of the question for the right price and-”
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“Auroras...”
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“Fine, fine. Take all the fun out of it. Really though, Tyrael it’s been nearly twenty years since you seriously contact us and it’s for a job? Cobalt has seen us more than you and he’s on a military schedule.” The man removed his hat and adjusted his glasses before setting a large stack of papers on Tyrael’s desk.
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“I heard you both just came back from Mistral. How was that?”
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“Cobalt is dead.”
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“I’m sorry. Repeat that?”
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“One of my investments tried to manipulate and double-cross me and got Cobalt’s family involved. He was killed for his efforts to remedy the situation himself.”
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“So that’s why you called us, is it? Is this because you don’t want to mix business with pleasure for the sake of revenge or were you just being kind enough to allow the rest of your old academy compatriots to share in it? He was just as much Hari and I’s friend as he was yours, you know. But surely, you wouldn’t call us for simple revenge.”
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“You’re correct. I have a list of people I will need you all to hunt down. First is Robin Goodfellow, the man who killed Cobalt and was, to my understanding, instrumental in helping Leroux’s operations fall apart. The next is a group of young huntsmen and huntresses that are responsible for my daughter’s death. Find and bring them to me, dead or alive. In the meantime you will be covering for Redmond while he reestablishes my presence in Mistral.”
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“That’s quite a lot for us to do at once, you know. It won’t be cheap. Of course, if you had told Hari that we were after Cobalt’s murderer I’m sure he’d jump at the chance to do it regardless.”
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“Not... that that’s an invitation to work for free. We do still have a business to run. You know how it is.”
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“Where is Hari by the way? I specifically asked for both of you to show up.”
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“Currently locked up, I’m afraid. With our workforce cut in half it’s been a bit difficult to keep up the money to-”
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“Auroras, you charge millions. You simply haven’t given yourself the time.” Tyrael waves a hand and two large briefcases are placed one on top of the other at the side of the desk. Tyrael slides Auroras’s stack of blank papers aside and lets it open to reveal a large amount of lien. “Half of your payment down as per your usual.”
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“This is... actually more than usual, Tyrael. You’re not about to add another job onto this are you? You know we don’t stack work.”
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“The second one isn’t for you.” Tyrael replies, “That is to get Hari out of jail. Do that, then begin your work. You are to kill Robin Goodfellow, find what remains of my son’s old Atlas team and bring them to me, and make sure that Leroux’s associates do not swipe away what is still rightfully ours.”
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one-twopunch · 6 years
Text
Please help a disabled person out. Please signal boost!
Hey folks, so I really don’t like asking for money or help in general, but my bank fucked up with my account number and gave me the wrong one. I gave social security the wrong number and I likely won’t get my check this next month before all my bills are due. The Department of Treasury will need to do an investigation in case there is fraud, and that can take a long time depending on when my bank kickbacks the check. Additionally, I got in a really bad car accident earlier this month and my car got totaled, so I now have to save for a new car.  My credit got fucked when I bought my now totaled car, so getting a car from a dealership might not be an option for me. I have an interview on Monday, but it is not guaranteed that I will get the job. I will have to work part-time so my benefits are not affected. I am putting everything I can into getting a new car including what I get from the possible paychecks I might get from the potential job. 
 I might also have to pay court and lawyer fees because I am contesting the ticket I was given from the accident even though I did not cause it. If the prehearing does not go well, I will owe my lawyer $175 per hour, and that is a lot for me. My copays are also pretty high for the therapist I have, and I am afraid that I won’t be able to have the therapy I need to keep stable. I am pretty scared because I depend on this check to get through the month since I’m disabled. Without this check, I will not be able to afford rent, bills, my medical needs, my phone bill, or anything else that I’ve listed above.
With all of that being said, I am doing tarot card readings, rune readings, and writing short stories for people. I might also do drawings as well, but that will be a case by case basis since I am really insecure about my drawing abilities. If you want to donate to me without paying for any of these services, that would be great too. Just DM me to ask for what you want. If you want to just donate without receiving anything, DM me for my PayPal. If you can’t donate or pay for any services, please just signal boost this.  My prices are below the cut.
Tarot:
One card: $2
Two cards: $3
Basic 3-card spread (Past, Present, Future): $4
Lessons to learn over this year (12 cards. one for each month): $12
True Love Spread or Career Path Spread (6 cards): $6.50
Over Coming Obstacles Spread (5 cards): $6
Celtic Cross Spread (10 cards): $10
Runes:
Here is a link to the types of rune spreads I am using. I am adapting them slightly to fit my own practice: http://www.therunesite.com/casting-layouts-and-spreads/
One Rune: $2
Two Runes: $3
Basic 3 runes spread (Past, Present, Future): $4
Four Directions Spread (Past, Present, Future Obstacles, Outcomes): $5
Five Runes Cross Layout: $6
Midgard Serpent Layout (7 runes): $7
Bifröst  Layout (7 runes): $7
Grid of Nine Layout: $9
Odin’s Nine Layout: $9
Celtic Cross Spread (10 runes): $10
Egil’s Whalebone Layout (12 runes): $12
Writing:
Here are some rules first:
No incest or pedophilia. That should be a given. 
No sexual writings. That stuff is hard for me to write.
I have the right to decline to write something. This may be due to what it is, how many requests I have, or what you’re asking for.
I am okay with writing gore, horror, and angst.
Fandoms are hard for me, but I am willing to write fandom fics. If it is a fandom I don’t know much about, it might take longer because I will need to research it.
I can do writings with your OCs, but tell me about them first!
If you want a sample of my writing, let me know.
Prices:
1000-2000 words: $10
2001-4000 words: $15
4001+ words: $20
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wellhellotragic · 6 years
Text
Of Wolves and Lambs 8/?
Summary: Killian Jones has known a lifetime’s worth of pain. He’s lost everyone he’s ever cared about, but when the love of his life is murdered, he vows that nothing will stop him from getting his revenge. Even if it means losing his soul to do so. What starts off as a simple quest for revenge turns into a world filled with secrets and lies. Nothing is what he thought, and no one seems to be who he thought.
Rating: E (and that’s not E for everyone)
A/N: This is my last finished chapter of my repost so anything from here on out will be new material
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The next nine months were a blur. Discovering that the love of his life was also the woman he had spent almost two years hunting had ruined him. Anger descended upon him and everything he had ever known to be true in his life twisted and contorted under his wrath.
He hated everyone. Milah, the woman he was meant to marry, the woman who was meant to carry his children had forsaken him for another. She had given her flesh to another man in spite of her promise to cherish their future. And then there was Emma. She had lied to him over and over. She had betrayed their friendship for a man unworthy of anything but death. She was the reason Milah had cheated on him, the reason she was dead. If he hadn’t spent so much time and energy focused on capturing her, he would have been home with Milah starting the life they had planned.
David had thrown him away like garbage for loving her. Had he known who she was too? Had everyone known and kept it a secret from him, laughing behind his back at the fool that he was?
He let the fury spur him on in his efforts to find the Alchemist. It was no longer the pain of losing Emma that fueled him in his mission, but the pure unadulterated hate that he felt for the world. He let it wash over him and drank it in.
Robin and Will did what they could, but he kept them at arms length, unable to trust anyone now but himself.
They had restarted their investigation from the beginning trying to see if they could amass any new information now that they had Emma as a lead. She had become a ghost from the moment she left Boston as a teenager though. She had received monthly paychecks from a shell corporation posing as a non-profit organization. The shell company was another dead-end.
Robin tried to reach out to Jefferson as Killian had explained that they had worked together at the non-profit, but Jefferson had disappeared as well. All inquiries into him showed that he had never even existed. His social security number had been spoofed from a child that had passed away a few months after birth. All efforts to run his fingerprints had yielded nothing. There was no next of kin, no change to his financial accounts, no leads to follow.
Finally, Killian was forced to go to the house in Storybrooke to search it for clues. When he entered the home he was met with covered furniture and inches of dust. No one had set foot in that house in twenty years. Still, he ransacked through every cabinet and drawer. He searched every inch of the stables. There was nothing to suggest that Emma Swan had hidden any information there.
In fact, the only item in the entire house that could prove that Emma had even existed was a framed photograph on a nightstand in the master bedroom. In the photograph stood a blonde woman with blue eyes looking up at a blonde, green-eyed child sitting atop a horse. The child smiled at the camera while the woman beamed up at the child with immense pride. The child looked to be around four years old.
He felt the rage build as he thought of her, the temptress that had destroyed everything he held dear in life. He grabbed the picture and lobbed it at the opposite wall as hard as he could. Glass shattered everywhere as the frame hit the ground. He was about to step over the mess to leave and search through another room when something on the back of the picture caught his eye. It was a small handwritten caption. Emma’s first riding lesson. For a moment he felt a twinge of sadness, looking at the front of the picture. For that one moment, he allowed himself to grieve her, to grieve for young Emma. His body slid down the door frame as he clutched the photograph to his chest.
He missed her. It wasn’t a thought he allowed himself to dwell on ever anymore. She was the enemy and he needed to think of her that way first and foremost, but there were those fleeting seconds that passed through his mind. Seconds where he remembered sitting on the couch with her in Ruth’s house. Seconds where he could almost hear her laughter ringing through his ears still. Seconds where he remembered whispering I love you in her ears as she drifted to sleep. Seconds that shattered his heart beyond repair. Seconds that were now pure torture.
He missed that young girl and the carefree spirit that had captivated him. He mourned for the innocence that she had lost, and for whatever had happened to her that turned her into the monster she had become. All of the oxygen left his body and he thought he might die from the void she left. But he didn’t. With a gasp, he reawaked, as did his anger, and with that, the affection he felt for her washed away in the storm of rage that poured upon him.
They were no closer to finding the Alchemist after months of research. Other specialty teams from both the United Kingdom and America had come up equally short for information.
Both Robin and Will implored him to take a few days off and clear his head. They hoped that if he could distance himself from everything, he may be able to regain control of himself, but he refused them each time they brought it up. Instead, he insisted on going over every detail once again. And that’s when he found it.
On his seventh review of Jefferson’s finances he found a small memo on the back of a check that had posted the day of Emma’s funeral. It was the last transaction made, one that was seemingly innocuous. He had written a check for a donation in Emma’s name to an organization that helped foster children apply to college. At the time, it had made sense. He knew Emma well enough to know that she had spent years in the system before Ruth and David took her in. It was the perfect way to honor her memory.
How had he never noticed it before? In the memo section he had written a note, For Pip, The greatest expectation is love. Something about that was stuck in his mind but he couldn’t quite pinpoint it.
“Hey guys, do we have any persons of interest named Pip or any variation there of,” he asked Will and Robin.
Robin cross searched their databases and came up short. Will went through all of the physical files in their makeshift office and also found nothing. Killian wasn’t ready to let it go though. He knew there was something to it, it was too random of a note to have meant nothing.
He stared at the copy of the check for over forty-five minutes trying and failing to decipherer the only clue he had. It was Will who finally forced him from the room stating that it was late and he needed to sleep on it.
He was out almost immediately when his head hit his pillow. The clue haunted him through his dreams though in the form of memories of Emma. He dreamt of their first night together. He had been consumed with his hunger for Emma at the time that he hadn’t noticed it was his first time in her room. When he woke that next morning Emma was sleeping soundly at his side. She looked so peaceful that he didn’t want to risk disturbing her, so he laid on his back, holding her in his arms as she snuggled in closer to him.
Her room was scarcely decorated. The dark blue walls were empty, devoid of any pictures or paintings. Aside from her bed, she had a single dresser, one nightstand on each side of the bed, and an oversized bookshelf. There was nothing there that spoke of the room belonging to Emma except for the rows and rows of all her favorite novels filling the bookshelf. She had always been an avid reader, and all of the books on the shelf looked to be first editions, well worn around the bindings and aged in color. As he perused the books from his spot on the bed, he noticed a single empty spot, likely from whichever one she was currently reading. Emma stirred next to him and let out a small hum of content.
He woke with a start. It was the vividness of the dream that had startled him. He could almost smell her shampoo; feel her hair against his nose. The longer he lay in his bed, the faster his heart began to beat. It was if her ghost was lying next to him, taunting him with something he would never have again, something he shouldn't want again, but did anyway.
There would be no returning to sleep that night. The base they were using was small, and there was nothing to do after sunset. The only options for him were to sit in the room breathing in her spirit, or go back to his desk and try to figure out whom Pip was. The latter won out.
Going through the files was tedious and frustrating. He scoured through boxes and boxes of physical files from the adjoining storage room making sure that nothing had been missed with Robin scanned the physical copies into the computer database. Four hours later and there was no mention of Pip, Piper, Pippa, or Pipin. There were no locations beginning with Pip either, and that check was the only mention of it in any of Jefferson’s finances. Killian was right back at square one and the anger rose in him again.
He took the file he was holding and slammed it on the ground, causing a few pages to scatter on the floor. He bent over to shuffle the pages back into the folder and realized what they were.
Staring back as him was the Boston police’s crime scene photographs from Emma’s house after the attack. He had glanced at them briefly, but the report stated there was no physical evidence found implication a suspect, so he tossed them aside and hadn’t thought of them since. In the back of his mind, he also knew how hard it would be to see them. Her beating had been brutal, and he knew it would show.
Victor told him that it didn’t appear as if she had fought back, but her body had been traumatized and he hadn’t been ready to see her blood pooled on the wood floors. He needed to look them over though, for if nothing else just to make sure the police hadn’t missed something. The Alchemist was known to leave calling cards taking claim of his atrocities. He viewed it as good advertisement for his business.
The pictures were just as bad as he had expected, if not worse. The first three pictures were of random rooms in her house that weren’t considered part of the crime scene. David had made sure that everything was shown just in case though. It was the fourth picture that twisted his gut. Furniture had snapped in half. Glass vases had been shattered. There were three large red stains on the ground. He had to steady himself against the bile that assaulted his throat.
Remembering her battered body in the hospital bed and putting it with the damage in her living room brought back a flood of emotions and he wasn’t sure if the damn he built would hold. Trying to speed his way through he glanced at a few more photos of the kitchen, a bathroom, and finally her bedroom. The bed hadn’t been made, the curtains hadn’t been pulled back, and the lamp on her nightstand was still on.
The general consensus was that she assumed Killian had come back after checking on his house, so she didn’t think twice about checking the door, and the Alchemist drugged her. The autopsy had shown a paraplegic in her system that the Alice had favored. She never stood a chance against him.
He shoved all of the photos back into the folder and returned to the desk. He laid his head on the wood and closed his eyes trying to purge the images he had seen. None of them had given him any insight.
As he rested, sleep finally beckoned to him again. The same dreamed returned. It was torture on his senses. He noticed all of the same things again, but every touch and smell was intensified. He woke again at the same point in the dream. Why was he dreaming of this moment over and over suddenly after months?
Clearly his subconscious was trying to tell him something. He walked back to the storage room and grabbed the file on the top of the pile. He was careful to only pull out the last photo of Emma’s room this time. What was it about this memory that kept calling to him?
Nothing stuck out to him no matter how closely he looked at the picture. Her nightstand was empty except for the lamp. The bed was a tangle of sheets and blankets. There was still nothing on the walls, nothing to see outside the windows. What was it?
He sat back in his chair, letting his head fall back. He closed his eyes and tried to walk himself through the dream. Emma wasn’t in the photo so most of the things he experienced in the dream were irrelevant. He mentally scanned the room, and nothing was out of place between his memory and the photograph, except for the lone empty spot on the bookshelf. In the photograph it was filled, with Emma’s favorite book. How could he have missed it? She reread it once every year.
Great Expectations.
He had never read it, but he briefly remembered Emma telling him about it. The lead character was an orphan just like Emma, which is what drew her to it in the first place. It was a story of love, loss, pain, and deception, all things Emma was intimately familiar with.
He couldn’t remember any of the specifics of the book though. He logged onto the nearest computer a searched for a synopsis of the book. The lead character’s name was Pip, and he knew he was on to something. He scanned the plot of the book, but not much stood out to him. Emma was similar to Pip is some aspects, that much was clear, but nothing gave him any indication of where to search next.
As he was mulling over the new information he had discovered, the sun rose and Robin and Will joined him. He explained what he had found and the three of them regrouped.
Killian and Robin went through the plot of the book again, both agreeing that it must mean something, but they hadn’t a clue of what. It was Will’s insight that surprised both men.
“Isn’t it obvious?” He looked astonished that the two men were shocked that he may have an answer for them. “Did you both skip your basic literature courses? Pip went to Cairo to make amends after a rejected marriage proposal before finally returning home to set things right. Sound like anyone we know?”
“Wait,” Robin cut in, “are you trying to say that Emma was in Cairo before coming home? Don’t you think you’re being a bit too literal?”
Will sighed. “Perhaps, but add in the part about love being the greatest expectation. Pip was rejected, went to Cairo, and the made it home to the woman he had always loved where they were finally able to be together. I’m willing to stake my entire ration of ale on it.”
Killian rolled his eyes. It seemed like a stretch but it was the only they had. Robin searched for any incidences matching the Alchemist’s profile around Cairo in the last five years. Buried under thousands of stories of civil unrest and terrorist activities, was one small blurb about a family that died of suspicious causes. No autopsies were performed due to family wishes, but the symptoms the victims exhibited matched.
They couldn’t get any information on the incident from their current location so the three men packed up and headed Cairo West Air Base. From there they would be able to access medical records, news articles, and possibly surveillance evidence from just before the deaths.
June was not the ideal time to be spending days in the arid desert. The building they were using had no air conditioning, and all three men were sweating out liquids faster than they could take them in.
They had been there for a week combing though everything they could get their hands on. Will’s literary analysis had paid off. The coroner's report was basic but substantiated their theory that the Alchemist had drugged the family, although they still weren’t sure why.
There was no real-time video surveillance of the area to see who was coming or going just before the family became ill, but a news article had managed to capture a photograph of the front of the house after the family had passed. In the background of the photograph, a woman dressed in camel colored trousers, a cream colored sweater, and a shawl wrapped around her head, with only a sliver of golden blonde hair peaking out.
Killian knew in his bones that it was Emma. She had been there, part of the attacks. She had been with the Alchemist from the beginning, reigniting his hatred of her. Unfortunately, all clues ended there. The lack of police reports or physical evidence left them at a dead-end.
Killian was at his wits end ready to give up. Why was he even there anymore? Emma had been a villain who got what was coming to her. He didn’t need to avenge her death. The Alchemist was a horrible person, but was he really Killian’s problem? Not currently. Killian’s only issue at that moment was that he was pissed and sober.
While the base didn’t have an official bar, as visiting American soldiers weren’t allowed to drink, there was a building at the rear of the base that flew under the radar.
The building was originally one large room, but had since been partitioned separating it into two ones. The smaller room was understood to be reserved for higher commanding officers, so most of the people were milling around in the front area. Killian walked up to a makeshift bar made of crates and minifridges, and grabbed an ale, dropping a few dollars into a silver bucket.
He sat on a stool in the corner of the room nursing his drink, trying to decide whether or not he should walk away. Everyone he knew had turned his or her backs on him. There was no one counting on him to bring justice to Emma’s killer. Emma wasn’t the innocent victim he originally thought she was. It was all on him now. Did he want to continue, or walk away and start over somewhere new?
As he sat there, contemplating his options, he completely missed the man who had approached him.
“Lieutenant Jones, your presence has been requested in the other room.”
Killian looked the man over. He was wearing an American army uniform, with not a hair out of place. Killian hoped that if he ignored him long enough, that he would go away, but instead the man stood at attention. He groaned internally before standing and moving to the smaller room in the back.
There was nothing different about that space. Nothing fancy that set it off from the room in the front. The only difference he could see was the lack of bodies. In fact, there was only one body present. Colonel French.
Fuck he thought to himself. Everything started falling into place in that instant. Jefferson had been a partner of sorts to Emma. Colonel French was in Cairo. The alchemist and his team were going after anyone who had knowledge of him. It only stood to reason that Jefferson had spied on them talking in the hospital and sent a hidden message to the Alchemist telling him where he could find Colonel French.
“Jones, please.” The colonel motioned to Killian to take the seat next to him. “I have to admit, I thought you’d arrive here sooner.”
Killian furrowed his brows at him. Had his team already discovered the threat to his life? “I’m sorry?”
“We have access to the same information regarding your girlfriends death. I assume we followed the same trail.”
Killian tensed. “I wouldn’t call her my girlfriend. Just someone I once knew, or should I say someone I once thought I knew.”
“Ah, so I take it you know of her other identity then?”
Anger began simmering inside Killian. The colonel had known all along and was playing games with him. “How long have you known?”
“To which part? How long have I known about Cairo, or how long have I known that Miss Swan also went by Alice?”
Killian could felt his jaw muscles clenching as his fists balled up on the tabletop.
“Since the beginning, for both questions.”
“And you’ve just let me and my team run around in circles for your amusement?”
The colonel took in a death breath sensing Killian’s tension.
“No. I’ll admit, I thought you would decipher to clue faster than you did, but to your credit, you are the only team so far that had figure out even this much.”
“You mean aside from your team?” Killian took a swig of beer hoping it might dull his emotions.
“Not exactly.” He saw Killian’s look of confusion so he quickly continued. “My team was ahead of the game, so studying the clues to find the next avenue of action wasn’t really necessary.”
Killian thought on that. His team had been leaps and bounds ahead of every other team out there.
“I told you once that I had intended to invite you to join my team, but that you weren’t ready at the time. Are you ready now?”
Not ten minutes earlier Killian had considered walking away completely, and now he was being asked if he was finally ready to take the next step. The irony wasn’t lost on him.
“If I were, what would that mean?”
Killian could see a spark of hope in the colonel’s eyes. “Unfortunately, your current clearance level prevents me from discussing it with you. It’s a catch twenty-two I’m afraid. You have to agree before I can brief you, and if you agree and I brief you, there’s no walking away. So you’ll have to decide now, are you in or out.”
“And I don’t suppose I get time to think about it?”
“Sorry, Jones, but I’m flying out tomorrow morning. It’s now or never.”
Screw irony. How was he supposed to make this life altering decision spur of the moment without any information? He stared at the table, trying to will an answer to pop into his head. He had already spent the better part of three years chasing this man. Was it worth giving up more of his life to catch him, or was he already so far in that giving up now would have been the waste?
His thoughts drifted to Emma. As teenagers she had been the lone ray of sunshine for him. What happened that sent her down such a dark path? If he had just summoned up the courage to tell her how he felt, would she have left, would she still be the innocent girl he fell madly in love with? Every question lead to another question, and in the end he realized that what he needed most was answers so he could have closure.
“And if I say yes, what happens to my team?”
“That would be up to you. You seemed to believe in them when last we spoke. Has that changed?”
“No.” That answer was easy. If it hadn’t been for Will, he wouldn’t have even made it this far. “Then you’ll speak for them. You’ll decide, but again, I need to know now.”
“They’re in.” Killian hoped he wasn’t damning his team. He knew that if asked they would follow him to the end of the world, but making such a call without their consent felt like a violation. He could only hope they understood.
“Very well. Have your team pack up all of their belongings and information. Meet my in hanger four at oh five hundred hours.”
“And where, might I ask, are we going.”
The colonel stood up and walked to the exit.
“That’s classified for now. I’ll make sure you all have upgraded clearance by the time we land.”
And with that, the colonel was gone and Killian felt like his soul had been sold away to the highest bidder.
When the team landed, green fields and trees greeted them. It was a far cry from the desert they had just left. There were a few scattered buildings that looked as if they were in ruins, and a high fence with a barbwire top acting as a barrier. Nothing about it screamed high security.
“Gentlemen,” the colonel gestured outwards, “welcome to Serbia, where it all started.”
The men grabbed their packs and hauled them in line behind the colonel, stopped abruptly when they came to the entrance of a crumbling building.
“I know what you’re thinking, but don’t be fooled. There’s no better to place to hide than in plain site.”
The colonel continued into the building to the back wall, where a small thermostat box was fixed in place. Killian thought it odd as he didn’t remember seeing any air conditioning units outside, but perhaps they had been picked off. The colonel walked up to the thermostat and lifted the cover off. He turned the temperature dial up and down, before turning it back up again like a combination. When he finished, a portion of the wall slide into itself reveling a set of elevator doors.
The colonel stepped up to the door where he was greeted by a retinal scanner. The elevator doors opened and all four men crammed into the elevator before he continued.
“According to one of our agents, this was the first site he used. The agent in question managed to discover that the Alchemist had been born here, but that his family was run out of town for something his father did. His mother was humiliated and left him alone with his father, who later abandoned him as well, so when it came time to find his first test site, he couldn’t resist getting back at the people that destroyed his family.
My agent came here to investigate and see if there was anything else to be learned, but as you can see, there wasn’t much left, but I saw the opportunity. We built a base down below the ruins, in the once place we knew meant so much to him, but that he would never return to.”
The elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open.
“This way gentleman.”
Killian, Robin, and Will followed him taking in the enormous scale of the base. From the outside, he never would have guess that anything was there. As they walked down corridors they passed a gym, a dinning hall, and a medical office. As they turned a corner, Killian could hear mumbled voices coming from a room at the end of the hall.
The colonel lead them into the room and Killian stopped in his tracks just before the doors, at the sound of a woman’s laughter. Will had to push him forward and he felt his stomach flip.
“Jones, I believe you already know all three members of my team, but for the rest of you may I introduce Agent Humbert, Agent Hatter and Agent Swan.”
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gdelgiproducer · 6 years
Text
DOTV AU: An Exercise in Alternate History (Part IV)
Parts I, II, and III offer more detailed context. (To briefly sum up why these posts are happening: alt history -- as in sci fi, not “alternative facts” -- buff, one day got the idea that DOTV could have turned out hella different if Jim Steinman looked for a star lead in other places, decided to reason out how that might work.) This is still getting a good response, so I’m gonna keep the train rolling.
Parts of the AU timeline established so far: instead of stopping at recording two songs from Whistle Down the Wind on a greatest hits compilation, Meat Loaf wound up taking more of an interest in Steinman’s new theater work than he did in our timeline, and through a series of circumstances found himself volunteering to play Krolock in the impending DOTV when Jim poured out his woes to him about needing to find some sort of star to attract investors. At a loss for any better ideas, Jim accepted Meat’s impulsive proposal, but not without resistance from his manager, David Sonenberg, who proposed Michael Crawford as an alternate candidate. Through quick thinking on Meat’s part, and inspiration on Jim’s, Crawford left the room accepting an entirely different role than he walked in hoping to get, leaving Krolock still open for Meat. There’s been a brief speed bump, when Meat dislikes Jim’s English script for the show, but after meeting with the original German author Michael Kunze and convincing Jim to compromise, things are hopefully on the road to being back on track.
Continuing the alternate DOTV timeline:
August 11, 2001: After some discussion with Meat Loaf, and back-and-forth with Michael Kunze over changes from Tanz in the creation of DOTV, Jim Steinman (and co-authors John Caird and David Ives) closes the book on a new draft of the script. It is sent to Meat, co-star Michael Crawford, and members of the creative team for review.
Meat has to admit, he’s pleased with the results. The mix of humor and score is more consistent, and for still veering farther from the German show than Meat’s comfortable with, it’s not altogether terrible like the May draft was. There are still things he would like to see changed in one more re-draft (the “Invitation to the Ball” sequence has grown too lengthy, “Carpe Noctem” now closes Act One in a bizarre hybrid with part of what was once the Act One finale, and Krolock shape-shifts into an alien monster during the ball sequence for no apparent reason; cut the shape-shifting, restore the original “Invitation,” and put “Carpe Noctem” and the Act One finale back the way they belong, and he’ll be a happy camper), but overall, this is much stronger. If he can’t get it closer to the European version, he’ll be pretty happy with this as the final result.
No complaints from Crawford either: Abronsius is a strong character with a comic accent, most of the show’s laughs, some heartwarming moments with Alfred (a slight change from the crabbier professor of the European version that Crawford has zero issue with; every performer wants to be loved because of their character, not in spite of it)... he can hold his own against Meat Loaf’s legendary command of the stage and isn’t stuck playing second banana. He’s ready for rehearsals!
Michael Kunze can’t help agreeing with Meat’s assessment of what needs to be changed, but aside from that, he, too, is surprised at how good the draft is. It addresses many of the problems that even the German show’s fans have acknowledged -- it improves the pacing, increases character development, little to no time is wasted on subplots that go nowhere. It’s still not quite his show anymore; it’s easier on the audience, more comical, but this has working ingredients. It’s new, modern, more like Rocky Horror, aimed at a younger audience, not a show for tourist parties from New Jersey. The critics will have their knives out for it -- they tend to be conservative and prefer classics with straw hats, showboating choreography, and the big-band sound that he loathes -- but that doesn’t matter so much if the audience still buys tickets. The physical production will still more or less resemble Vienna and Stuttgart; this script, combined with the score, special effects, grandiose scenery, and breathtaking choreography, could stand a chance.
Now planning can finally take a more concrete form. The goal is to bring it to Broadway for previews in March 2002, with the official opening in April, followed by runs in Los Angeles and London. Caird and Steinman are still set to co-direct; frequent Julie Taymor collaborator Daniel Ezralow is on tap for choreography. The original German designs will be replicated. Preliminary casting is even beginning for other parts: Steinman is intent on luring Aris Sas to American shores to reprise the role of Alfred, which he had made his own in the original Vienna and Stuttgart productions, having long had designs on turning him into a pop star. Further casting sessions are lined up for September.
August 23, 2001: The announcement is made in Variety, confirming Meat’s and Crawford’s casting, Jim’s co-directing with Caird, and all the relevant details. In a gallant move on Sonenberg and co-producer Andrew Braunsberg’s part, the production is announced to be dedicated to the memory of Steve Barton, Tanz’s original Krolock, who had passed away in mid-July. For his part, representatives from Meat’s management announce that he will be donating a portion of his salary to a trust for Steve’s son, Edward, and his family, which goes down really well with Barton’s fans. Tellingly, however, Allen Kovac himself offers no comment.
September 11, 2001, 8:45 AM E.S.T.: a horrific terrorist attack rocks the city of New York, and the nation of America. This event, impossible to ignore, changes everything. Many musicals getting ready to make the jump to Broadway are suddenly not so sure, but the situation is doubly insecure for DOTV: most of the show’s major creative team (including co-director Caird and Sas, one of the major leads) is based in London and Europe, and with flights being cancelled en masse, it’ll be hard to make head-way and open before the Tony Awards cut-off date as initially planned. For that matter, a musical comedy about dead people where the bad guys win, no matter how funny, suddenly seems in very poor taste.
October 5, 2001: Due to the impracticality of planning successfully after the massacre, realizing there is no way to follow the initial plan, the producers of DOTV announce that its opening is being postponed to October 24, 2002. 
With Meat’s schedule suddenly free, an admittedly relieved Kovac is able to tell the organizers of Night of the Proms that he will be able to honor his original commitment to tour with them from the end of October until just before the holidays. Meat, though a little annoyed that Kovac kept the deal going behind his back, welcomes the distraction: Jim needs time to incorporate the rewrites he suggested, and he needs to get out there and entertain people the only way he knows how, the better to raise some spirits. Besides, it’ll only be a matter of time before he is consumed with his character and unable to tour in the manner to which his fans have become accustomed, and he owes it to his band to give them one last paycheck before he commits to an extended period without them. His stint with the Proms is a success, and during its stops in eight German cities, Meat talks about his forthcoming role and, as a special bonus for Tanz fans, premieres his performance of what he calls “Confession of a Vampire,” the English version of “Die unstillbare Gier.” (Tanz fans complain the lyrics are too close in places to Meat Loaf’s original “Objects in the Rear View Mirror...” but many grudgingly acknowledge his performance already has the gravitas appropriate to the role.)
Over till next time. If you like it, keep following!
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