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defdaily · 3 years

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Arena Homme+ Magazine September 2021 issue featuring JAY B: Nature, Dreams and Music

Translated by defdaily.

That day, JAY B’s world was filled with grass that came up to his knees, sunset that briefly peeked through the dark clouds, and ghosts of the silent campsite. Insects flew about in the intimate conversation of creation, dreams, and the future. An interview with JAY B amidst the passing seasons.

So you are working on an album?

The album is almost finished. I couldn’t release it at the beginning of the year, so I’m releasing it now in the second half of the year. I’m thinking of preparing things early on for next time so [we] are preparing for the production of another album.

There was a big change this year, you moved from JYP Entertainment to H1GHR MUSIC, right? What did you expect before becoming a part of H1GHR MUSIC?

At first I was worried. and was concerned over what to do if I couldn’t adapt. My goal for this year was to adapt to the agency and its artists, but everyone has made me feel comfortable. I thought I would have to do a lot of adjusting to the new agency staff, but I was surprised by how understanding they were of the system I had experienced. The way there has been no problem in our communication has far exceeded my expectations. Things are flowing smoothly.

It must feel like a fresh start. You must be looking forward to getting to do what you couldn’t do previously, but on the other side you must also have hopes to learn more. Is there anyone that could provide you with blunt advice?

I’m not the demanding type. And I have never strongly demanded anything from the company either. But that doesn’t mean I accept anything the company makes and provides me. The difference is that my opinion is reflected in my work more than before. If I was going to lead everything at work, there would have been no need to join an agency. Joining the agency means communicating with their staff. I also think we should listen to other people's opinions a lot. And you have to give feedback too, of course. I am working well with the company. Be it a push or advice as help, I learnt a lot from my previous company. Since I have learnt a lot from there, I should trust myself a little more now. I try to relay what I know and learn about things I’m not knowledgeable of. I rely on Jay Bum hyung a lot. I contact him right away when there’s something I don’t know, and we have a lot of conversations.

Is it important that an artist is stubborn? Do you feel the need to emphasise your own music and personality?

Artists have different personalities, just as people have different preferences. I don't want to diss an artist who is stubborn, nor do I want to tell anyone who isn’t stubborn that they are not an artist. I acknowledge everyone. I, personally, want to express the way I live. I like making music. An artist should be clear about what they want to do. Whether it be to become a star, or to express themselves through music or to earn money, it has to be clear.

What is your clear stance as an artist?

Whether it’s fiction or reality, I want to make stories. I’m the type that wants to tell a story. It was like that too in my GOT7 days. I believe one should create and establish their own path in life. I think that's fun. It's hard, but it's worth it. It adds more meaning to my job and I think it becomes more valuable. If I didn't do it myself, I would feel less attached to it.

There’s nothing more fun than one’s own work. Showing your work and waiting for the response must also be thrilling.

Exactly. I love hearing that my music is good. I’m very shy so I cannot express it very well but I’m very thankful and proud too. And it reassures me that I’m not going down the wrong path.

It does feel like all the hard times disappear when you hear good feedback. But feedback isn’t always good. There are even people who avoid them because of fear of criticism.

To be honest, when it comes to unpleasant feedback, it kind of makes me feel… “ouch!” But I accept it because it is still an evaluation. It also gives me a boost. It’s fun.

You are a solo artist now. Do you feel a burden or pressure?

I don’t feel pressured, but I do feel the burden. I joined H1GHR MUSIC and I feel a sense of belonging. I gain something from this company, but I think this company should gain something from me, too. I have worries about things like whether I’ll be able to benefit the company or not. I feel slightly uneasy about possibly not meeting expectations too.

You feel a sense of responsibility.

There's always a reason and a purpose to start anything. Everyone starts music because they like it, and if they start, there must be music they want to make. So if there is criticism, one would feel down, but if the final product is good, the people that worked on it would feel good. That’s what I hope for.

You uploaded a bunch of your Def. songs onto your YouTube channel. There was quite a lot. Are you the prolific type?

I used to be but… I guess I’m still the type to make many songs. (Laughs). But compared to back then, my production has decreased a lot. My stamina can’t keep up. (Laughs). I used to be able to start and finish working on a song at dawn and when I felt like I could do more, I made more. Nowadays, even when I’m working on only one song, not only is it hard for my body, but I also feel drained so I can’t make many songs.

Isn’t it really fast to make even one song at dawn?

Ah, that’s true. I used to work like that three or four times a week, but now I work once or twice a week. Come to think of it, I don't think I'm the prolific type anymore.

Being able to make a lot of things means you have a lot of ideas.

Having run out of ideas is also a reason for having less work done. There are five mixtapes I’ve uploaded onto YouTube with four to five tracks each. At the time, I not only worked on those but music for GOT7 too. After hustling so hard, I feel like I’ve run out of material. I look around wondering where to find inspiration. When I finish making the melody and want to write lyrics, I feel lost.

In order to be prepared for those situations, creators keep a collection of material. How do you collect resources?

I often read or use my imagination. These days, I often put myself in others’ shoes. When watching a movie, one would empathize with the protagonist. It’s only natural since the plot revolves around them. But I would pay attention to the supporting roles or passerbys in the background and think about the story from their point of view. I would think about what I would do if I heard those words and if I were in that situation. I also pay close attention to any words that might be a good source of inspiration. In the past I would focus on how the plot developed, but now I look at the words that the author uses repeatedly. When I think of any useful words or ideas, I jot them down.

Observing the supporting roles instead of the central narrative is such a novel idea.

I suddenly thought of it while watching a movie at home. The protagonist had said some harsh and rude words to a supporting role. It was something like “Get out of my way.” I thought “How would it have felt to be the one moving out of their way? What would they feel?” These were the thoughts I had.

Has anyone told you that you have a unique perspective?

I’ve often heard that my personality is very unique.

People can say they don’t like something despite others saying they like it. That could come off as unique and fresh ideas come from an uncommon perspective too.

I think it’s 50/50. There are times when something might not feel like much for me while others like it, and times when everyone else seems quite indifferent while I like it. A song I recently liked the idea of is “Smile, Wait for the Flash” by Giriboy where he used the ‘kacha’ shutter sound as gunfire. Using ‘kacha’ like a gunfire as a metaphor for wrapping up your feelings after a breakup was a refreshing idea. It was great.

Do you also often use your instincts?

I try hard to. I don’t naturally use my instincts, but I try to look at things through a different lens. I tend to have random thoughts, and I had one today during the shoot too. This is a camping site, but there was no one camping. So I imagined how it would look when full of people moving about. Also during the shoot, there was a long blade of grass under my feet on a field of grass. I should have avoided it but I accidentally stepped on it. I felt sorry for the grass that got stepped on and out of instinct I said “sorry…”

Seems like you have keen sensibility.

I wish I could be sensible. I’m too cautious to say that I am sensible, though.

I think you would be considered a sensible person because you make music. But I noticed that the comments are disabled for Def.’s mixtapes on YouTube.

The songs that I make under “Def.” are 100% music that I personally wanted to make. I didn’t want to receive feedback, so I disabled the comments. If I release an album under “Def.” in the future, I probably won't be able to disable the comments. I don’t know. The reason I have disabled the comments is because I don’t want to see any praise nor criticism. I don’t look at the comments for my SoundCloud tracks either. Because they’re very personal projects, I’m worried I could be swayed by it so I don’t look at it on purpose. I don’t want to be swayed by anything when it comes to my personal projects. I guess that’s my way of being stubborn.

So it sounds like you’re saying the songs that are made under the name Def. are like a part of you. I can feel your sincerity towards your music.

I would pretend to be indifferent to evaluations, but I’m really scared of receiving negative comments. Not the criticism but I’m scared to look at comments that decide something as ‘not good.’ If they say that it’s not their style, then it’s just personal preference. There may not be songs that match their preference within my discography. But it’s difficult for me to hear people say ‘this is not good, bad, or meh.’ After all, those songs came from me and are like my children.

I remember many tracks with gentle melodies and discovered JAY B’s delicate side. Is this surprising to hear?

This is the first time I’ve been called delicate. I do have several sensitive/vibey songs. I want to try something like a pop, hip-hop, or smug and cocky vibe but I’m not good at that. I don’t think it’s my personality.

What is considered a good melody to you?

Something that feels good at the first listen. My music taste has been so diverse recently that even when I talk to my friends about music, the songs that we all like are different. It’s hard to reach a consensus. In the creator’s perspective, even if something doesn’t sound good to others but it does to the creator, I consider that to be a good melody. I used to stress over how to write a good melody, how to sing it, and if the company would like it. As I move on step by step, I found a standard where at least the melody should sound good enough to me to not abandon the song since everyone has different preferences.

Personal preferences are important but it must be an important job to cater to the general public too. No, I mean, a difficult job.

That’s right. I think I still lack the ability to create melodies that the general public would like. I will have to learn step by step. One thing I feel is that there must be a part that sticks. I can’t exactly describe what type of melody it would be, but to set a minimum standard, it would be ‘a melody that I’m satisfied with. If it’s one that I’m not satisfied with but the public likes, I should follow that.

Do you tend to use many tracks when making music? There’s lot of songs these days that use dozens of layers of tracks.

We used a lot of harmonies with GOT7. Because there were so many harmonies, there was a crazy number of tracks too. These days, I try to be minimal and reduce harmonies. I don’t layer many tracks. I usually have the main track with a few harmonies and some adlibs.

K-Pop in particular mixes many genres and harmonies to create complex music. They are very flashy. What do you think of this phenomenon as someone who prefers to be minimal?

I see it as a good thing, because it means that the general public’s preference is expanding to a variety. It’s rather better. Of course, the basics are also important and I do feel the necessity to study them but we also need to agree with change. We should accept change. Who knows, I might grow old to be someone that can’t accept change and wonder, ‘what kind of music is this?’ But I feel that now is a time to open our eyes to change. When I find that a song is difficult to listen to, I will purposely listen to it repeatedly.

It’s been 10 years since you’ve debuted. How much have you changed over these 10 years?

In the past I was ambitious and had high expectations, but now I am more relaxed. With age, I think my sensitive side is becoming more and more dull. When I let go of some desires, I get to be accepting of more things. The scope of my activities also seems to have widened. I used to have a stubborn side to me in the past. Now I’m like ‘don’t expect too much, don’t anticipate too much,’ just do my job diligently!

There are many artists that use other creative hobbies to ease the burdens of their main job. What do you do to cope with your fuel for creativity?

My hobby is photography so I take many photos. I also learned how to draw at one point but nowadays, I don’t have time to draw since I’m busy. I also make records of things often. I write down my thoughts, even useless things. I also use an audio recorder to record my mood, thoughts, and things I’m currently doing. I also write letters to my future self. Things like ‘this is why I’m struggling, this is what would be good for me now but how it would be for my future self?’ Wondering what I will be thinking about and what I would look like. I write letters to myself about stuff like that. I put them in envelopes according to the year and on the envelope I write down the year the letter was written.

So It’s like an archive of your time. Writing, journaling, letters, photos, music, it’s interesting. A very organised way of saving your thoughts to not lose them. Having said that, is there anyone else you would like to show your records to besides your future self?

Ah! I can’t show this to people. They’ll cringe. (Laughs) It’s sort of embarrassing. I can show the photos to everyone but I want to keep voice messages to myself. I hope that when I am older, I can look at them as I laugh and reminisce about my life. They’re records for myself.

Do you also record everyday life in any way?

I record when I find it interesting the way I thought about something. Even looking at my journal from last year or the year before, my thoughts were different from now. I find it intriguing to see the way people can change like this. I think I tend to have many thoughts, so I record them every day.

From the position of a creator, I guess journaling can be seen as an activity to collect one’s senses and emotions to use them as material for inspiration.

That’s right. My brain isn’t good enough for me to remember everything. There are situations when I recall a memory and decide I could write this down.

What was the most fun thing you did lately?

It’s a bit dangerous, but it was when I rode around on my motorcycle with my friend. There was suddenly a heavy downpour. Since I needed to go home, I rode the motorcycle in the rain. I was completely soaked when I got home. The journey home was super difficult, but I was fortunate enough to not have suffered any injuries. It was a completely new experience so it was very fun. I don’t want to experience it again but it felt like an adventure.

Wearing the Burberry 2021 F/W collection in the pictorial today must also be a new experience. Slightly different from the refined and classic Burberry, the collection shows a lot of change. What were your usual thoughts on Burberry?

I thought of it as a clean and straightforward style. Ever since some time, I noticed their young and bold changes. Although today’s outfits contained many new attempts and changes, I felt that their style was still well refined. I felt that Burberry used their own unique perspective to cleanly interpret nature’s elements. Wearing the outfits, I felt like they had a lot of fun ideas.

Which outfit left the biggest impression on you?

Choosing just one is very difficult. There was one that gave off the feel of a medieval knight, and made me feel like a monarch. I’ve heard that in medieval times, people would also wear bearskin from hunting. I think that has some influence on the Burberry outfits that I wore today. Every time I put on an outfit, I always felt like a medieval knight or king. The fur on the clothes had a strong animalistic feel to it. The scenery, weather, and concept were all very harmonious with each other.

Going back to the topic of music, you said that you like to tell stories. Do you also create a universe with music?

Yes, I create a universe for each album. This album creates this universe, while that album creates another. The albums won’t connect to create one universe, though. Each album is its own world, nothing more. I can’t make them magnificently connect into a grand universe. I like to put my story into each album.

Can you use a keyword to describe the universe of the album you are about to release?

It would be “SOMO:FUME.” This is the first album that I made after joining H1GHR MUSIC. This album consists of my energy, feelings, and thoughts, so it contains the meaning of my hopes for people to consume (somo in Korean) this product and and my wishes for my emotions to smear on to you like perfume, which is why I combined [somo] with the [English word] perfume, and named [the album] SOMO:FUME.

In which direction will JAY B’s music flow from now onwards?

I’ve pondered about directionality for a long time, but I couldn’t come up with an answer. The important part is to participate enough for me to not have regrets and be careful. I may disappoint myself if I have too many expectations for the future. I need to work diligently to not be disappointed when I look back; so that in the future, I can see that I worked hard.

Translated by defdaily.

Please support JAY B’s 1st EP album [SOMO:FUME] coming out on August 26 at 6PM KST. jayb1stsoloep.carrd.co

#jaebeom #lim jaebeom #jay b #def.#got7 #got7 jb #interviewtrans #defdaily #defdaily:trans #h1ghrmusic #somofume #style of my own: fume #SOMO:FUME

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years

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Title: [VLOG] so you found an assassin droid Summary: More of that ��Luke and Vader meet over space twitter” AU :D

Twin Suns @/skyseekerpilot Can anybody tell me if it's illegal to own an HK-77 droid? Thanks :D

Still here @/vicTORI-is-here What did you do????

Bigg Dreams @/darkestlight More like what did he make me carry home

Scrap Hunting @/scraphunting Scrap Hunting has uploaded a new video! Click HERE to watch it!

L31a @/ThePrincessHerself Omg new video???

The video started with two boys sitting on a workbench, slowly drinking tea from two mismatched cups.

"So," Luke spoke up, interrupting the silence. "I want to start this off by saying that I am absolutely innocent and have not broken any galactic laws."

Next to him, Biggs just looked up at the ceiling and pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is Hutt Space. What kriffing galactic laws?"

Then, quicker than he could stop it, Luke dug his extremely sharp elbow into Biggs' side, causing him to yelp. Unbothered by his friend rubbing his side all while hissing, Luke continued speaking.

"Anyway! Welcome to a new episode of Scrap Hunting! We sure gained a lot of following since our last video, so we thought we'd do a bit of a different thing this time around?"

Luke laughed nervously as white writing behind his dead proclaimed having gained thousands of followers and being just a little overwhelmed by it all.

"A lot of you were interested in seeing where we get our materials and what our set up to the actual repairs is, so we figured it was time for a vlog?"

A little helplessly, Luke looked at Biggs, but his friend only shrugged in turn. They weren't exactly sure whether it counted as a vlog, they had never really done it before.

"In any case! We brought you something special today, so feel free to follow the journey that led us to this. If you enjoy this format, be sure to tell us."

After these words, Luke leaned forward and picked something up that was out of the video frame. He sat up again and held something large and round and metal in his hands that, after taking a second look, revealed itself as a droid head.

"So here's the story of how we found an HK-77 droid, which we will now start repairing. Have fun!"

Biggs loved Luke; he really did. They had known each other their entire lives, but there was no doubting that his best friend was absolutely insane. From racing in Beggar's Canyon at a young age to breaking into a scrapyard in the middle of the night.

"We are so gonna get caught," Biggs hissed. Nervously, he looked around as Luke dug through the mountains of trash. He made sure to keep the recorder on Luke to catch it for their channel. If they were going to get arrested for this, it had to be worth it, at least.

"Nope, it'll be just fine," Luke replied and triumphantly pulled something that used to be part of a hyperdrive out of the mountain. Immediately, waves of junk rolled down, clattering on the ground and causing much more noise than Biggs was comfortable with.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yeah, I can feel it," Luke replied absentmindedly as he inspected the hyperdrive.

The video switched back to the workshop where the duo was reassembling the droid. "Fun fact," Biggs said, leaning over the half-assembled droid. "Luke spent too much time out in the sun as a toddler. When he tells you that he has a feeling? It's true 90% of the time."

Then Biggs's eyes widened as if he had just had a realization, his head whipped into Luke's direction. "Do you think you could get me the lottery numbers?"

Luke pulled his arm out of the droid's torso to stare blankly at Biggs. "Do I look like I can?"

"I don't know, can you?"

Luke opened his mouth to reply, then he stopped and closed it again with a frown on his face. "I don't think so," he said slowly. "We should try it out."

The video froze momentarily as a text block appeared, reading: It doesn't work.

"He can feel it, he says," Biggs muttered, kicking a rusty pipe. "This sounds insane, you know that, right?"

"Absolutely- hey! Look at that!"

Biggs turned the camera up towards the part of the trash heap Luke was pointing at there. There, in the middle of old ship parts, was a hand.

Not that of a sentient, of course.

"Looks like a droid," Biggs said, studying it with interest. "Do you think you can get it?"

"Obviously."

The video cut back to the workshop where Luke was welding the head of the droid back to its body, goggles hiding away his face. "I want it on record that I did, in fact, get the droid. It's here. On the table. It went successfully."

Biggs just grinned and leaned back, arms crossed. "Do you guys want to know how many takes it took him? Twenty-"

"Don't you dare edit this in!" Luke protested, pointing tool threateningly at Biggs, but the other boy was entirely unbothered.

Take 1

"Right, I can just step in here-"

He could not.

Take 2

Luke was trying to climb up over what used to be the wings of a ship. He slipped.

Take 3

From a different point than before, Luke attempted to jump up to the next platform.

He failed again.

Take 10

"Just one more try. I swear I got it," Luke insisted.

"Uhu." Biggs only nodded and examined his nails. "Do you want me to grab it? I'm a bit taller than you."

"Eat a bantha, Biggs."

Take 16

"Okay, so if I climb on your shoulders-"

"And who is going to hold the camera?"

"… Good point. This is why we need an assistant."

Take 20

Luke was half up the scrap hill when his right foot suddenly lost grip and he slipped again, catching himself only in the last minute and permanently scaring Biggs, who was holding the camera with shaky hands, for life.

"Okay, this is fine, he can do this. No need to worry. He'll get it."

"Thanks for the encouragement," Luke hissed as he pulled himself up.

"You're not the one who will have to explain to Beru Whitesun-Lars why her nephew looks like he was in a fight."

Slowly, Luke turned around just so that he could give Biggs a look. "My aunt has seen me in worse states."

"Doesn't mean she isn't terrifying."

Luke couldn't disagree with that sentiment. "True."

Back in the workshop, Luke was setting aside schematics while miserably looking through his wire collection.

"I hate you so much," Luke sighed and started connecting the droid's artificial nerves to one another.

"Nope, you don't," Biggs said and set another cup of tea next to Luke. "Alright, what's the plan for this baby?"

Luke grinned. "I'm glad you asked! Time for a little summary, I guess."

The video changed so that Luke and Biggs were still standing in the workshop, but the background had been edited to be a whiteboard. While the two teenagers in the frame continued working on the droid, and a voiceover of Luke's voice could be heard.

"Alright, so what Biggs and I found here is an HK-777 Assassin droid. This droid was developed by the Separatists towards… The end of the Clone Wars?"

A little unsure, Luke looked over to Biggs.

"Yep," Biggs agreed as on the white background the words Clone Wars appeared, and beneath that an image of the symbol of the CIS as well as the droid. "However, they haven't seen any real combat or at least much of it? They're being used by the Empire now."

The image of the CIS was crossed out and got replaced by that of the Galactic Empire.

"Now, it's important to know that the HK-77 droids are generally considered to be the best of the HK-series ever developed by the Separatists," Luke said. "Obviously, I have opinions on that – but more on that later. Let's talk a bit more history first."

The image of the HK-77 droid shrunk as four more droid models showed up on the video. All of them looked similar to the HK-77 one, though by far not as elegant.

"So, the HK-77 model was preceded by the HK-47, HK-57, HK-58, and HK-67 models. As you can see by the size comparison here, it's a bit shorter than the other models, allowing for greater maneuverability and being less noticeable."

At this comment, Biggs snorted. "It's still built like a kriffing tank, and from what I'm seeing here on the memory banks?" Biggs held up the datapad he was working on. Cables connected it to the droid's memory bank. "Uh, yeah, not noticeable was not it's preferred method. Assassin droid is obviously a misnomer. They should have called it trigger-happy bastard."

"Don't be so mean to him," Luke said and gently pet the droid's detached arm. "Don't listen to him. He doesn't understand."

"He can't even hear me."

"Be silent, heathen."

"I got it!" Luke exclaimed and began to pull at the droid's body. Slowly, more and more of its body emerged until suddenly its whole frame fell out of the trash and Luke with it. Cursing, Biggs dropped the camera. After this, only a lot of clattering and shouting could be heard, no clear image being visible, only various dark splotches. The video only continued when Biggs went to pick up the camera. Some time must have passed as Luke was sitting on the ground, nursing his injuries while simultaneously examining the droid. "I think we found something good here."

"Yeah, can something good also walk on its own?"

"Doesn't look like it," Luke commented, poking the droid's joints, which promptly fell apart.

"Great," Biggs replied and ran his fingers through his hair. "Can you walk on your own?"

"Yeah, think so." Experimentally, Luke stood up, wincing only slightly. "Okay, yes, I can walk, but you'll have to carry the droid."

Biggs rolled his eyes exasperatedly, but you could tell that he was obviously relieved that Luke was well.

"He did, in fact, make me carry the droid back home," Biggs stated, still examining the droid's coding. "Carry it to the speeder, go back for the other parts and then drive him and all his stuff home and unload it, and then drive back to my place and explain to my parents what I was doing at three in the morning."

Now Luke actually looked a little guilty. "They didn't say anything-"

"No," Biggs shook his head. "I told them I was with you and they just sighed. Are the optical sensors working?"

Luke took the droids sensors and connected them with what would be the eye sockets in humans. "It should now. Test it."

Biggs typed something on his datapad, then nodded. "Yep, it's working. So, to continue our lesson: As you can see, the HK-77 has a narrow head and two optical sensors."

As he said that, Luke pointed at the relevant parts.

"First thing I'd improve if I were to build an assassin droid," Luke chimed in. "It's just impractical that it doesn't have 360° sight."

"Wouldn't that lead to sensory overload?" Biggs questioned. "All these protocols, and jeez, I want to meet who wrote this because this code sure is something."

"Maybe," Luke replied, deep in thought. "You'd have to make space for larger memory banks. I'm just saying, if I were to code a droid like this, it wouldn't be so bad."

"Not doubting that. But while we're already at it, Luke, you wanna handle the body parts?"

"Sure!"

Luke brushed his hands off on his pants, though that didn't make them any cleaner. "Alright, we already mentioned that the HK-77 was the Separatist's golden bantha. To continue, it came in two variants: assault droids and squad leaders. They look identical, but squad leaders are obviously more intelligent. What we have here-"

Putting emphasis on the last word, Luke opened his arms wide, then gestured at the droid lying on the bench. "-is a squad leader! Which is great because that means he can be useful in the future and help us out in the workshop. It has blaster riffles integrated into its arms."

Here Luke lifted one arm up, shaking it slightly. "Though these aren't functional anymore. We'll replace those with proper hands and fire extinguishers. Next up, we will change the plating to be more heat resistant so that he'll actually be capable of helping out on the farm and in the workshop. We should add a smoldering iron as well. The overall cost of such a droid in peak condition is- "Luke stopped talking to look down on something. After a second look, he lifted a datapad close to his nose, where he frowned at the numbers. "Huh. That's a lot of cash. Maybe we should sell it."

"I think that's mostly because of the state secrets such droids can keep. They also work as bodyguards. But this droid's memory is fried, so it's useless. And if somebody left it on Tatooine, it probably can't be that valuable," Biggs intersected.

Luke nodded slowly. "True. In any case, this concludes our discussion of how the assassin droid works. Tune in next time to see how we actually overhaul it."

"And done," Biggs breathed and dropped the droid in the back of the speeder. "Are you sure this will be worth it?"

"Absolutely," Luke replied.

"I'll be trusting you on this then, kid," Biggs replied.

The video turned black, then returned to the image of the empty workshop with white writing.

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#star wars #Luke Skywalker #biggs darklighter #scrap hunters au #fanfic

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galenfm · 4 years

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·ﾟ☀ i am already so tired of myself and i have class soon aGAIN ........ ugh well again , i am teddy , a she / her pronoun user and current mun to two muses in this delightful shining star of a group ! i now present galen , my newest gaming gf creation who just wants everyone to fucking include each other ! my preferred plotting method is via discord over at 𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫 !#6439 , i’ll make a plotting call there and i’ll reach out to everyone who likes this !

* read all about galen sorenson , otherwise affectionately nicknamed the champ. the twenty - one year old gamer and blossoming actress is widely known for being uninhibited, magnanimous, self - deprecating, capricious and recently made headlines when they allegedly dropped a sponsor due to their support of autism speaks . apparently judas claims to be sitting on an even bigger story involving them - whatever the truth may be, i'm sure it won't stay hidden for long. & a screaming laugh following a jumpscare waking the whole house , overthinking an interaction hours after it’s passed , a childhood spent begging to be read the ugly duckling and lingering on every word , neurodiversity stickers pasted all over a gaming pc. ◜ ⭒ ic: alisha boe. cis woman. she / her.

BIO : mohammed and karina sorenson have never been a conventional pair . to start , they meet when he , the biggest male model of the 80′s , is hired to walk for her winter collection , being one of europe’s top knitwear designers who never seems to go out of style . he’s eccentric and as magnetic as can be , she’s demure and has never said a word regarding anything but her work . they don’t make sense , but they’re married two years in secret before finally making their relationship known . mohammed , progressive and independent minded despite his traditional somali family , takes her last name and relocates to norway , where karina gives birth to a stunning baby girl that steals the hearts of the eu as the tabloids go crazy over her .

elissa is nearly 18 when her mother has the news to shock a nation : she’s miraculously pregnant , once more , far enough along that she intends to keep the baby despite both her and mohammed being into their 40′s . karina , having named their first baby , gives the reigns over to mo for their second child , but isn’t too happy with his pick

galen literally translates to mad , to incorrect , she argues , elissa firmly on her side

it gives her a chance to choose her own path . it gives her something to make for herself , mohammed counters , and that ends that .

galen is born in olso and is every bit as precious as her sister , now old enough to even potentially be her mother . her parents , busy with their ventures but over the moon to have a new baby in the house , raise her for her first few years in a small norwegian town to shield her from the prying eyes of the public

mohammed is first to notice that she doesn’t respond to her name or seem interested in looking at him , keeping her focus on whatever toy catches her eye for the day . he and karina write it off when she doesn’t hit her talking milestones or hold crayons the way other toddlers do , or figure she’s just an introvert when her preschool teacher mentions she doesn’t enjoy playing with the other kids during free time

they can’t ignore it any longer when she hits grade school , instantly falling behind with the rigorous private school pace and eventually warranting a visit from the school psychologist . she remembers the worry that paints her parents weathered faces when , at six years old , she’s given a laundry list of diagnoses and recommended for “ alternate ” schooling

something about the way her teachers treat her , so broken and unworthy of respect , makes her shut down , regressing with any progress she had shown and really refusing to cooperate with most adults she comes by . elissa is a budding starlet taking weekends off from film roles to spend time with her little sister , knowing that behind the quiet dark eyes of the child who wouldn’t look at you was a bright mind teeming with unsaid thoughts

her parents go to all ends to hire her private tutors and special therapists , which help her keep up at grade level . she’s in middle school when her science teacher , noting galen’s aptitude on exams and incredible recall , says she may fare better in an american school , recommending one he knows will accept a prestigious line such as the sorensons .

she moves to pennsylvania at 12 and the change is hard . she again regresses and suffers at the hands of her peers at the private catholic school she attends , her parents reaching a level of despair thinking they’ve failed their daughter , unable to get her the help she deserves despite their best attempts . galen , sick of being deemed the broken doll , seeks out an escape from the world to try and give her some reprieve from the constant pity she wishes she could express is only doing more harm than good

she likes makeup but sucks at it , enjoys art but can’t seem to draw for the life of her . she knows she’s tone deaf as all hell and doesn’t like sweating enough to be willing to dance . for once in her life , despite all the years of trying to ignore the well - meaning comments of those around her , galen starts to believe maybe there is something wrong about her .

it’s elissa’s celeb boyfriend who buys her an xbox for christmas , figuring the two could play it as a bonding experience . brimming with quiet gratitude , galen spends hours on the damn thing in between study sessions . tutors notice an improvement in focus , more motivation to work and get things done so she can finally hop back onto the console and escape into a fantasy .

she begs her parents to let her do homeschooling for her high school years , to which they agree and she thrives . she upgrades now to a gaming pc and plays through everything she can get her hands on . people on her teams don’t know her , and they don’t treat her any differently than anyone else , so before long she’s unlocking a bubblier side to herself that just feels content .

she records her playthroughs in silence ( she’s gaining confidence , but still shy , and god knows how the internet treats female gamers ) and uploads them to youtube under a stupid channel name with only a few hundred subscribers . noting the accuracy and speed with which galen destroys shooter games , someone suggests she try overwatch .

galen is hooked in an instant . she plays matches in between daily activities and quickly climbs ranks to becoming a force to be reckoned with in the competitive community . after finding a team where she feels particularly at - home , they launch to stardom due to their sweeping wins and incredible cohesion . galen becomes something of an overnight sensation , quiet and unassuming , and this recognition feels like the validation she’s been seeking for herself this whole time

she blossoms and cements her legacy as an overwatch competitive titan by the time she graduates , reaching grandmaster status and being known throughout the community for her strategy and technique . her youtube channel grows exponentially , and after realizing this is a viable future for herself , galen posts her playthroughs with her commentary and finds that people love what she does . she moves to new york in order to collaborate with other big gamers , and on her channel , she does a combination of horror games , overwatch trainings , and new release reviews and builds a following similar to markiplier or jackseptic eye , with a second vlog channel to document when she goes off to tournaments or simple things from her days

she’s 19 when her repeated wins get the attention of a massive gaming studio who invite her to come record some lines as an easter egg of sorts for her fans in a new game they’re developing . her work is met with rave reviews and suddenly game titans are nearly breaking down her door for more voice acting work . galen , who’s always felt like the ugly duckling compared to her sister’s perfect legacy , takes this opportunity to emulate her sister’s career , and nearly doubles over when a film studio approaches her with interest of casting her as a supporting role in a project of theirs . though she’s never pictured herself to be in front of a camera quite like that , with some coaching , galen nails it , and finds the high of acting catapults her from relative fame into newfound stardom .

she’s one of the newer members of the brat pack considering her youtube fame was more inconspicuous than her film work , though she still is adjusting to life in the limelight . she stays close to her roots and continues to post regularly to her channel and streams on twitch , collaborating with other increasingly big names to gain her more views .

galen’s most notable push since rising to fame has been her advocacy for neurodiversity and recognition for how poorly people with learning disabilities are treated in society . she doesn’t go in detail with her diagnoses but she does make jokes about them on her stream in order to normalize their mentions . she recently dropped a sponsor for their support of autism speaks and donates a majority of her merch revenue and tournament winnings to advocacy causes . she’s proud of who she is and hopes the future can be shaped into what kids like her needed when they were growing up .

galen lives up to her father’s prediction this whole time and changes her channel’s name to galengaming , proud to tout the moniker that spurred her to create a path she wanted rather than be told who to be by the world around her .

PERSONALITY : galen has an energy about her that is like the sun hidden behind a cloud . upon first impressions , she’s a bit more timorous and nervous as she gets her footing of wherever she may be , especially with some of the more public - eye type settings she’s been put in since sort of being sucked into the brat pack . she wants to make sure she’s acting appropriately for whatever the situation calls and may often seem tense or apprehensive .

once she’s loosened up or seen a familiar face she can latch onto , she blossoms into a ball of unfiltered energy . she loves humor and memes and can often be found competitively launching memes she’s found into her team’s group discord server . she’s witty and often makes herself the butt of her own jokes in order to lighten the mood , though she’ll be sure to clarify that she loves herself and only does so to keep herself humble lmao .

her playthroughs are VERY stream of consciousness but its this lack of filter that seems to be her fans’ favorite thing about her , a willingness to say whatever unhinged thing she may be thinking followed by a shrieking scream after a jumpscare or a string of screeching expletives after missing a goal

she can perhaps sometimes be too unfiltered and unwittingly come across as harsh or blunt , though she’ll often realize this after the fact and feel incredibly remorseful . galen has a habit to overthink and will panic for the rest of the night if she fears she’s inadvertently offended you , but won’t apologize due to being too nervous to figure out exactly how to do so ssksksks

one of galen’s most notable qualities is her heart , her benevolence and empathy that lead her to want everyone to feel included regardless of how different they may be . though she tries to give everyone a chance , there’s a fair amount of people perhaps too materialistic for her to get along with , and her polite way to ignore them is simply keeping her distance and pretending to not know them

which . in her own way . comes across as shady sksksk “oh you know so and so ? ” omg no i dont haha who are they “ u literally met them last night ” hahaha no i didnt x

she can be prone to mood swings simply due to a sensitivity to her own feelings and a tendency to overthink . she’ll wonder why she feels weird and even if it’s just because she’s hungry she’ll assume it’s because she said “thanks you too” when the cashier told her to enjoy her meal and then she has to sulk and play animal crossing alone in the dark for an hour before she can come out and be chill again even tho she feels worse than when she started bc shes just HUNGRY ASKSKKS

she’s used to being infantilized so she tends to be sort of short tempered if people talk down to her . this is when the wit kicks in as she is really just tired of being treated poorly by people who don’t even know her and has decided she will refuse to take any more shit ! can be a bit snippy even without realizing it but if she’s close to you she’ll usually be like “ oh my god that was rude as fuck im so sorry ” and feel bad for 20 minutes even after you say its okay lmaoo

random blurbs : um DONT ask me who she plays in her overwatch tournaments bc im using opossum and wikipedia to figure shit out as i goes , but i know for sure she calls out a lot of misogyny in the gaming world on social media !

always has her switch with her i KNOW this for a fact

anime nerd ....... nobody call her out on it she will deny until she is blue in the face and then hum the one punch man intro in her streams as if hundreds of thousands of people arent witnesses LMAO

this is so stereotypical nerd but she hates the outdoors ! says the US is so dirty and stuffy she says scandanavia is the only place she’ll ever like to be outside , she slips into norwegian when she’s recording if she gets jumpscared so she doesnt get demonetized for over - swearing lmao

also speaks french because she picked it up from her mom ! her dad usually only spoke english or norwegian , so galen didn’t get to pick up on much somali or arabic but she def knows at least a few words here and there

she vlogs a good amount of her life but she’s kinda shy about talking about who she’s dating , will probably try to keep her romantic life to herself !

excited as all hell to get into acting but the super fame that’s coming with it kinda freaks her out . she knows it’s a trade off bc she loves the feeling it gives her but hates how people are now overstepping a lot of boundaries that they didn’t before when she was just a popular youtuber

inspos are juno from the iconic movie juno , toph beifong from atla , louis theroux YES THE DOCUMENTARY GUY LEAF ME AL ONE , & amy from booksmart !

#cross.start #* ◞ 𝐢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝖈𝖚𝖙 𝒕𝒐 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 . ❪ 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 : INTRO .#❪ yes her tags are carly rae jep/sen lyrics and hall and oates songs respectively #no i will not apologize or stop hyping EITHER of those musical geniuses up

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creativeskullcreations · 4 years

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Outside chapter 7: Article Delivery

Ugh, this one took forever to write. Not because it was hard to do, but I think I burnt myself out a little bit. So! For anyone who doesn't already know, chapters will now be uploaded every two weeks. So two(2) weeks from now, on Monday, chapter 8 should go up! As for this chapter, it's more of a transitional chapter than anything. Although there is a few important details in here. Maybe you can notice, maybe it'll be more obvious later.

When Stacy woke up next, it was to Scout once again sleeping on her chest. With some maneuvering she managed to get up without waking the Puppet, leaving her laying in the middle of the bed. She then went in to the bathroom, where she changed her bandages and got ready for the day. By the time she came back out, Scout had woken up herself and moved back to the living room.

Feeling bad about the night before, Stacy went to the kitchen and got out some ingredients. Bread was set on the counter. A pan went on the stove. Milk, eggs, and a little bit of cinnamon were mixed into a bowl. She soaked the bread in the mixture, then put it in the pan. Quickly, the smell of french toast filled the apartment, and she heard the TV pause. Seconds later Scout was on the counter, looking at the pan from behind the still mostly full loaf of bread.

"What's that?" She asked, leaning as close as she dared. She could feel the heat coming from the stove, and was wary of getting closer. Stacy grinned, checking the bottom of the bread.

"French toast. It's a breakfast food, commonly eaten with peanut butter and maple syrup. And it's delicious!" She flipped it, then set the spatula down to grab a couple of plates from the cupboard. "How much do you think you'll eat? This is all we'll be getting until lunch."

If Scout could salivate, she would be drooling all over the counter. "Twenty!" She told her Host seriously. Stacy paused, looking her up and down.

"How about two." She said. "They're kinda big and you're kinda... not."

"Fiiiiiine." The Puppet groaned, watching as she placed two pieces of toast on one plate, and the last piece on the other. She put them on the table, then got out the peanut butter and syrup while Scout Jumped to her plate.

Stacy showed her how to spread the peanut butter, which Scout copied with some difficulty. The second piece looked better than the first, but it still wasn't as good as Stacy's. The knife was too big and unwieldy for the Puppet to use properly, though her pride kept her from asking her Host for help.

Though her Host did have to help with the syrup, the bottle being far too heavy for her to lift by herself. Though, once she saw how liquid it was, she didn't let Stacy put much on either piece, with the second one getting absolutely none on it.

She had to use two forks to keep her hands clean, but Scout found herself loving the french toast. She wasn't entirely sure what made it different from regular toast, but it was the tastiest thing she'd eaten so far. Even the one with the syrup wasn't so bad, even though she could feel it soaking into her fabric as she ate it.

"This is fucking good!" She told Stacy around a mouthful of tasty bread. The Host just grinned, sticking another small bite in her own mouth.

"Glad you like it. It's one of my favorite breakfast foods." She told her, poking at her slice with her fork. Scout thought she looked a bit distracted, but ignored it to eat her own toast. By the time she'd finished her two slices, Stacy hadn't even gotten through half of hers. When she saw Scout staring at it, she willingly gave it up to the Puppet, taking the empty plate to the sink.

"So, I gotta go take the article to Carol today." The Host said as she washed Scout's plate. "But I'm gonna give her the fake one I wrote up yesterday. It should be enough to keep people out of that place, without drawing too much attention to it."

"Sounds good. When do we leave?" Scout asked, pushing the last plate over towards Stacy, who hesitated before picking it up.

"I mean, if you want to stay here, you can." She told her quietly, turning and putting the plate in the sink. "You don't have to go just because I do."

Scout frowned. "Yeah, but I want to come." She insisted, finding it odd. Just a couple days ago Stacy seemed upset that she wouldn't go with to wash some rugs, but now she wanted to be alone. It was just confusing to the Hand Puppet.

"If that's what you want to do..." Stacy didn't sound sure, and it was starting to annoy the Puppet with how inconsistent she was being.

"Yeah, it's what I want to fucking do." She said angrily, and felt a little smug at the wince Stacy gave in response. Other than that, the Host ignored the outburst and finished washing the dishes, only to pause when she picked up a fork. She glanced between the Puppet and utensil, frowning, and Scout felt her stuffing go cold.

'Oh shit! She's gonna stab me!' The Puppet panicked, looking for a hiding place. But, other than deepening her frown, Stacy did nothing and just put the fork to dry with the rest of the dishes. She then drained the sink, drying her hands, and heading to the living room.

As she passed the table, she picked Scout up, almost cradling her as she grabbed something off of the TV table. She settled on to the couch, placing the Puppet in her lap and leaning back.

"What are you doing?" She asked while the Host turned on the TV and changed the channel. It looked similar to Netflix, but there was just one row of pictures, rather than several. She watched as Stacy did something with the large, square-ish remote in her hands.

"I'm making you a profile on my Switch so you can play games." She told the Puppets, choosing a little pink round thing for an icon. "And then I'm gonna teach you how to play. We'll start with something simple, like Kirby."

"Kirby?" That wasn't something Scout had ever heard of before. But she didn't have much time to think it over as soon Stacy had taken the controller apart and handed her the blue half. She was then given a quick rundown of how to work it, and and told to select the first game on the list.

They watched the cut-scene, then got right into the game. Scout was playing the pink thing, who was apparently supposed to be Kirby. Stacy was playing... something else. It changed a lot and Scout couldn't really keep up. Still, with the Host guiding her they managed to get through the first few levels without dying. The Puppet was actually getting into it when Stacy suddenly quit the game, leaving her alone.

"Hey!" Scout yelled as she stood and left the room. "Where are you going?"

"I gotta go get dressed, it's almost time to go." Stacy told her. "Don't worry, we can bring the Switch and you can play it while I talk to Carol."

"But-" Scout went unheard as Stacy went into her bedroom, leaving the Puppet alone with the game. She let out a small growl, then picked up her controller again. When Stacy came back out, dressed up in nice jeans and a light yellow collared shirt, it was to Scout beating up Wispy with Fire Kirby and three Burning Leos. She watched and, when the boss fight was finished, clicked the Switch into sleep mode.

"Hey! I was still playing!" Scout protested, but Stacy ignored her and took the switch out of it's stand. She took apart the remote, snapping the colored parts onto the small screen.

"I know." She said, slipping it into her backpack. "That's why it's going with us, so you can keep playing."

Scout stared, looking between Stacy and the TV. "... We can do that?!"

Stacy just sighed, having to fight off a small smile of amusement. "Yeah. We can do that." She finished packing up her stuff and pulled on her hoodie, then held out her open bag to the Puppet. "Want me to carry you, or do you wanna ride in the bag?"

"Like I would ever ride in that thing." Scout scoffed, and the Host hid a smile at that. She slung her bag onto her back and picked up the Puppet, who then climbed up her arm to hide in her hood.

'Adorable...' Stacy thought as she felt Scout settle in to the lowered hood. Hopefully she'd be out of view of any passerby, at least until Stacy got to the truck. If not, they could always go with the toy story again, it worked last time.

The Host made her way out of the apartment, locking up as she went. She didn't meet anyone on the way, and they made it to the truck without incident. Stacy climbed inside, putting her bag on the floorboard in front of the passenger seat. She then dug Scout out of her hood and dropped her in said seat. While she considered if it was worth it to make her buckle up, the Puppet went straight for the bag, prompting Stacy to grab her by the back of her "shirt".

"You can't play the Switch while the car's moving, I don't want to find out if you can get carsick. You can play when we get to the college." Stacy told her, pulling her against the back of the seat.

"I won't get car sick!" Not that Scout knew what that was, of course. But it had the word sick, and she wasn't sick. She wasn't even sure she could get sick, for that matter.

"Not that you know of." The Host countered, pulling out from the parking lot. "And, frankly, I don't really want to find that out right now."

Scout pouted, but let it go, instead watching out the window as they drove the short distance to Stacy's college. It was a nice looking building, different to what the apartment buildings were like. It was made of red brick, with a green slanted roof, and was much wider and even a bit taller than Stacy or Sammy's apartment buildings.

Stacy parked in the mostly empty lot, then grabbed her bag and pulled the Switch out of it, which she handed to the Puppet. She then made sure the windows were rolled down just enough to let some fresh air in and keep the cab from being too hot.

"Okay, so I'm going to go talk to Carol about the article. You stay here and play Kirby. I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Scout answered, already distracted with loading the game back up. Stacy just smiled a little and got out of the truck. She locked both doors, then pocketed the keys and made her way into the building.

Being close to the end of Spring Break, there were more people around than she would've liked. But, it made sense that the students were starting to come back. It was Thursday, after all, and classes started up next week.

'Ah geez, what am I gonna do with Scout? She can't come to class with me, it'd be a disaster! Either the others would freak out, or she would.' She clutched the strap of her bag tighter as she approached the new office. 'Maybe she can stay with Will sometimes? Or I could get her a cellphone? I don't know if I can let her be alone at the house without a way to contact me. What if she turns the stove on and hurts herself? Or gets stuck somewhere?'

She paused and pulled a small note book and pen out of her bag, on which was already a short list. She quickly scribbled cellphone/flip phone at the bottom, then put it back. She was already planning a trip to Walmart when she was done here, so she could pick one up during that.

She entered the office, nodding to Adam as she passed his desk. To her relief, he seemed like the only one there other than Carol, which would make talking to her boss a lot easier.

Carol herself was currently hunched over two separate laptops, typing furiously with one hand on each. Stacy wasn't entirely sure what she was doing, but somehow she managed to keep her focus equal between them.

Truly, she was a wonder of an editor, and it almost made Stacy sad she'd have to disrupt her.

"Boss!" Didn't stop her from shouting her name and smacking the desk, though. And, to her credit, Carol didn't even flinch as she kept typing. only briefly glancing up at the reporter.

"Are you finally here with your article?" She spoke quickly, but was obviously very annoyed. Stacy just gave her the most shit eating grin she could as she dropped the USB on the desk.

"Sure have!" And here it was, moment of truth. Time to see just how good at lying she really was. "It was pretty boring, actually. Most interesting thing was the big hole in the floor from the fire way back when." She shrugged nonchalantly. "Send me somewhere cool next time, mkay?" 'Nailed it.'

Carol glanced from USB to Host, brow furrowing. "And the missing homeless people? Those were supposed to be a big draw in the article."

"Probably fell down the hole or something. I don't know, it was pretty dangerous in there so I couldn't get too far in." She leaned against the desk, looking at a framed issue of their paper on the wall.

"Hmm..." It was clear Carol wasn't fully buying the lie, and Stacy was glad she'd put on extra deodorant. "Did you at least make it sound interesting enough? There's no time for you to find somewhere better."

"Do you really doubt me on that, Boss?" She asked. "And here I thought you knew me better than that."

"Ugh, fine. I'll put your story in." The editor sighed, but couldn't keep a small smile off her face. "You gonna stick around for a while?"

"Nope! I got some shopping to do." Stacy informed her. "I'll see ya on Monday, though." She gave a wave as she turned and left. As she passed Adam's desk she tipped over the cup holding his pencils, giving a quiet cackle when he jumped at the clatter.

As she walked back the way she came, she reached up to grab at her bag strap with her left hand, only to pause as she realized it had gone numb. She rubbed it vigorously with her other hand, wincing when the pins and needles started. 'Ugh! Is my hoodie too tight or something?' She stretched the cuff of her sleeve a little bit, then shoved her hands in her pockets as she finally left the building.

She blinked as she came out into the sun, making her way across the lot to her truck, where she spotted a cat on the hood. As she approached it ran off, and a quick glance in the window showed Scout staring after the cat with her tongue sticking out.

Biting back a laugh at the frankly adorable sight, she climbed into the drivers seat, almost losing it when Scout turned towards her, tongue still out. She managed to keep her composure, but only barely, and hoped the Puppet hadn't noticed.

"So are we going home now?" She asked, finally putting her tongue back where it belonged. Stacy shook her head, starting the truck.

"Nope, gotta go to Walmart now." She told her "I've got some stuff to pick up. And put the Switch down, I need to start driving."

"No. I'm not carsick." Scout told her, already turning back to the screen. The Host frowned, but didn't say anything more. If she wanted to learn this the hard way, then she could.

Sure enough, not five minutes she was yanking the Switch out of Scout's hands, dropping it into her lap as the tell tale gagging sounds started. She pulled over with a sigh. Once parked she grabbed a roll of paper towels and a half used water bottle from the floor board, ready to start the clean up process.

At least her seats were easy to clean.

#outside #hello puppets #scout #stacy stein #carol fitzgerald

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just-horrible-things · 5 years

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Story: Mina and Marten [First | Prev | Next]

[I’m riffing quite hard off some of @ashintheairlikesnow‘s details here - I hope that doesn’t cause any offence! Your writing is great and I wanted to play around with a different character’s reactions to the same equipment.]

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Huge Surprise - Follow Up

“Hi all, and welcome as always to my channel!

“If you have not already watched the Huge Surprise video from earlier today, go and watch it right now, or this video is gonna be Huge Spoilers. This is your only warning!

“Okay, nobody still here who shouldn’t be?

“So. I was in such a rush to upload this morning’s video that I forgot to include half the content. I’m really sorry, y’all, I was just so excited, and so worried about the poor thing’s health. I wanted to show you peeps asap!

“But we’re going to do things properly now. There’s not much else that came in the box with the, uh, Box Boy, but let’s go through those first. If you don’t care about paperwork and stuff, you can skip ahead. There’s some more footage of the Boy himself at the end of the video, where I woke him up to give him some porridge.

“So! First up we have all the documents that were on top of the box. We’re not gonna spend long on these because they aren’t ery interesting, but we’ve got his contract here, some kinda gift receipt stuff, some info about Whumpees-R-Us... You can see they’re all packaged in this nice clear plastic to keep them all safe and neat. Good thing too, considering I yote them across the room!

“Then at the bottom of the box we’ve got this giant user manual. It’s a lot to read! Being honest with you peeps, I’m probably just gonna skip through it then look things up when I need em. Sheesh, look how heavy it is, you could kill someone with this!

“And we’ve got these shiny little booklets too. Look how neat they are! This stuff is more my speed. There’s a checklist of daily needs - I’m gonna pin this one to my wall. There’s a booklet of, uh,'positions' - I don’t think we’re gonna need most of these! This one’s a catalogue of accessories. There’s some neat stuff in here and we’ll go through it in more detail in another video. Here’s a booklet of chores he knows how to do, and some reminders of stuff he can’t do...

“Look, here it says he doesn’t read or write. That’s one plan blown, haha! No human spellcheck for me. He’s not allowed to watch scary things either, like violent films or the news... I guess it’s kiddie channels for us, haha!

“Moving on, we’ve got some other accessories. Obviously he came wearing the, uh, the ‘Stimulus Reduction Hood’. I’m afraid we can’t take a good look at that today because I stuck it straight in the laundry, phewee! But it says in the manual, er, here:

“‘The Stimulus Reduction Hood protects the Box Boy from loud noises that could startle it, and allows it to sleep during transport. It also protects the face from the packaging materials.’ So I guess that makes sense! ‘It can also be used as part of discipline, to calm down an overstimulated or overwrought Box Boy.'

“We’ve also got some, er, I guess these are handcuffs. And a collar. Oh wow, I feel really called out! I own one a lot like this but with little studs on, for going out to the club! I guess it’s a fashion thing for Box Boys too, it’s not like you need one to restrain them or anything. Oh, I hope mine is as well behaved as the ones I’ve seen online! I’d be completely lost if I had to discipline him! I’m gonna need to do a lot of reading!

“Speaking of discipline, the last item on our list is this, uh, I guess you call this a cane? It’s just a long bit of plastic really with a grip at one end, but I can’t fault the production values. Very neat, no casting lines, the grip is very nice. I guess we should try it out, huh?”

[Mina swings the cane a couple of times in the air. There is an audible ‘swoosh’. She strikes her own palm.]

“Ouch!

“Well, that stings! It doesn’t hurt too bad though, so I guess maybe it isn’t cruel. It’s a bit like slapping a horse’s rump, I guess? I’ll keep it around in case I need it, but I hope I don’t have to!

“Now, I know you all want to see more of the Boy himself, so here’s the film of his dinner time, like I promised.”

[The video cuts to Mina sitting on her bed with the product leaning back against her chest. She has a bowl of porridge, and is feeding the product carefully with a spoon.]

“As you can see he was still pretty bleary, so I had to feed him by hand. It’s pretty cute! He seemed better than when I got him out of the box though, so I’m gonna let him sleep some more and try not to worry too much. He’s had plenty of water too, and we got about halfway through the porridge before he was too sleepy to keep eating. I think that’s okay?

“Now, a lot of peeps are already asking what I’m gonna call him, and I can only say I don’t know yet! I’ve had lots of suggestions - thank you - and lots of peeps calling for a poll! I can say right now, I am not doing a poll. I love all of my lovely viewers, but I know what you’re like! You just wanna make vulgar suggestions!

“He needs a proper name! You can’t take this stuff lightly, so I’m gonna think long and hard, and give him a good one. Suggestions are super welcome though, I love reading what y’all come up with! Except the vulgar ones, haha!

“As always, I have a lot of lovely Patreon supporters to thank, as well as every single one of you viewers. So while I give the shoutouts, please enjoy these adorable stills I took of the Boy sleeping. He looks so peaceful!”

[Next]

#my writing #my ocs #mina and marten #mina #marten #youtuber whump #box boys #slavery tw #modern slavery tw #illness tw #restrained tw #collar tw #dehumanisation tw #invasion of privacy tw #sensory deprivation tw

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karsyn015 · 4 years

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Wireless Missing From Device Manager-Follow The Right Steps From Experts

What are WiFi routers? The definition of WiFi means'Wireless Fidelity'and it is effective at being able to send and receive data from wireless hardware by using an antenna. The popularity of the Internet could be widely attributed to the WiFi routers, as these make internet connection much easier.The simple task of sending and receiving emails would not be possible for so many users, without the usage of the wireless modem router. It's helped to simplify the way we access the Internet in your homes and at our places of work. Most WiFi devices have a range, within which they can operate in an efficient manner, and this will generally be about 30 yards. Wireless network routers may be used even in public places including airports, restaurants and libraries, so if your laptop has WiFi connectability, you are able to connect when you are waiting to fly, or you can escape to your library to utilize your laptop! When you have multiple computers in your house or office and do not need a network to get in touch them together, it is simple to make use of a wireless network router to connect them together effectively. The aspects of the WiFi router include a router and port. WiFi routers can be connected to your network fairly easily, but people prefer to call in a specialist to make sure it has been done correctly. If you have a WiFi router, you is likewise able to get rid of cables and wires, which are normally associated with conventional wired networks. Do remember though that both doors and walls might affect the connectivity of the WiFi routers. The standards for WiFi router could maintain the number of 802.11 or 802.12 and so forth. You may also extend the coverage of the router with the usage of repeaters or extenders - they're available from many stores. You can use the WiFi router to get in touch to laptops, computers, digital cameras, mp3 players and mobile phones. It can be used to get in touch to a printer. Just about all the major cities on earth, are WiFi network connected including Texas, London and Mexico city to call just a few. It is always important to remember that you should secure your wireless network as they may be misused by hackers if left unprotected. The 2 most typical methods useful for security are Media access control and WiFi protected access. The users will not have the ability to access the network without providing a password. This will ensure that hackers won't be able to access the network easily. If you're paying someone to create your network for you personally this should be done for you included in the job. Currently, you will find various ways to create a house network. And almost most families would connect an additional WiFi router even when they have a wired internet so that they'll use their mobile devices anywhere in the house. To get this done, you need to not only properly install and configure the WiFi router, but additionally look closely at the radiation that the device may cause. As we all known, the radiation always does injury to the central nervous system of the human brain. So, what should you do to minimize the harmful radiation and protect your families'health? As already mentioned above, radiation from the WiFi router does possess some irritant effect on the central nervous system of the human brain. It is manifested in fatigue, irritability, headaches and insomnia, which arise consequently of oversized electromagnetic background. The radiation frequency is at 2.4 GHz, which approximately equals to the frequency of the microwave oven, but nonetheless a couple of thousand times less. Firstly, if the Internet isn't used when you are in the home, the WiFi router should really be disconnected to the ability supply. Sleeping next to the activated access point is not recommended, aside from working at a very close distance from it. Secondly, if WiFi is on the phone, it should either be included as appropriate or not to keep constantly beside it. Especially, you and your families had better not sleep with the included source signal by placing the device on the next pillow. Are you aware that fixed WiFi router, it's desirable to be put into the center of the apartment. You need to try to decide on a spot that will be the absolute most distant from the places your families usually stay at. Thirdly, you are able to adjust the transmission power of the routers. it's not necessary to hold the most powerful level to get the very best signal. The average signal level could be enough for your routine use. Finally, you can use a box to insulate the radiation from the WiFi router. The anti-radiation WiFi modem antenna boxes can absorb the electromagnetic radiation and then convert it into heat energy consume, which would not cause the 2nd pollution. They decrease the radiation by up to 94.4%, and wouldn't affect the signal negatively. Slow fiber WiFi internet may be incredibly frustrating except that it's worth knowing that it's the speed of one's broadband service does not merely depend on the package you've opted for and your Internet Service Provider (ISP) provider but There might be other several explanations why your internet connection might be loading up slowly. Sometimes it only requires troubleshooting minor issues or even a few simple tweaks to be able to make your WiFi connection faster at home network set up. It's good to notice that, the broadband service speed isn't just dependent on the package and ISP accessible but you'll find so many other reasons which may need to be addressed. Therefore, listed here are 10 tips on the best way to improve the speed and service; You should be able to identify and explain which programs are already running every time in your launch your personal computer. Without doing this, you might get surprised about the amount of programs that set themselves automatically and run once you launch your computer or fiber connection. Some of the two most frustrating culprits that totally decrease your fiber WiFi broadbands are Java and iTunes. Therefore, free registry cleaner programme can be use to analyze what's automatically running whenever you either connect your fiber WiFi broadband or log on your PC. The programs will stop setting up by themselves.To acquire added information on wireless missing from device manage Our WebSite Any kind of expired antivirus software discontinues updating its library. Which means your computer will undoubtedly be vunerable to any newly created spyware, Trojans, malware and other nasty viruses. However, these may decrease fiber WiFi broadband and the computer generally, and in numerous cases might be making use of your allocated bandwidth to either download or upload additional data. So, in order to make your fiber WiFi broadband faster always ensure that the computer is fully protected by ensuring that your antivirus programme is around date. Additionally, be informed that an old unregistered antivirus programme starts swallowing your valuable bandwidth as it will keep trying to update itself in a number of circles before you delete it manually or re-install it. WiFi router has channels. Occasionally, it is only by changing the channel on the router that can make an environment of difference. This is mostly observed in those apartments with numerous interference from other WiFi broadband signals. Other technologies like microwaves and cordless phones can as well hinder WiFi. Try channels 11, 6 or 1 and if they do not work, then go to 2 or 10 next. Peck and Hunt and soon you feel like your WiFi speeds are improving. However, Modern WiFi routers too broadcast in dissimilar frequencies; such as 2.4 GHz and 5 GHz. In simple terms, 2.4 GHz is far definitely better for bigger homes and with multiple floors, considering that the signal travels farther and easily penetrates through/partitions walls. Otherwise for smaller homes or rooms, 5 GHz is the best way to go since it includes faster speeds, though in a smaller range. Prior to you worrying about an issue together with your broadband service, it's advisable to test the utmost internet speeds allocated to your WiFi broadband package. As an example, in the event that you signed up to a vital broadband deal that might be having speeds as much as 8Mbps, then it's unrealistic to anticipate for fast internet. But if you see a huge discrepancy amid your'actual'and'around'speeds, then there's an issue that must be resolved. Resolving this involves one to; Reset the router, clear the internet browser's cache and flush DNS settings. They're the sure steps that will effectively clear up any glitches and reset the text hence faster WiFi broadband. Setting unique password is important because anyone could access your allocated bandwidth which and hence cause your WiFi internet speeds to gradually slow down. Worse still, any an unprotected or unsecured wireless network is quite at risk of hacker's attacks that will access it to either perform illegal activities or retrieve your individual information. So, always ensure that you utilize complex passwords e.g. the use of Lower and upper cases and numerical characters that can't be guessed.

#Technology Blogger

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eliomaalways · 5 years

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YouTube just died. May she rest in peace.

This is a doosy of a post, I know, but there’s too much to be said here to be succinct. And to be honest, it might not be my only one. The longer this goes on, the angrier I get. YouTube is just getting ridiculous now, and I am genuinely concerned about where this will land my favorite YouTubers. If I were a YouTuber myself, I’d make a video about it, rather than rant in text. But thank God I’m not. Maybe I’m letting my bad day override my “stay out of it” judgement, but I’m having a hard time letting YouTube’s new child-friendly COPPA-compliant update stand quietly. It’s not okay.

At the bottom of this post, I will include a list of links to videos you can watch if you want to hear this from people on the creator side of this mess.

First, let me go over the merits of the update. It’s positive that there is a distinction here so that kids have a safe way to browse through YouTube videos. It can be a little scary letting kids run wild on YouTube, where even the safe searches often end in a deep, dark, unexpectedly adult hole. This update will help creators comply with the COPPA law and help ensure the wrong audience doesn’t stumble upon their not-intended-for-child-eyes/ears videos.

That’s it. That’s the whole positive side. The rest of it is crap. No comments. No notification bell. No personalized ads. No revenue. That last one is exaggerated, I admit, but not much. If your video is marked as Made for Kids, you will likely lose 90% of your revenue because you will lose targeted ads – so, essentially, you might as well be making it for free. And there’s no guarantee your video will find an audience, because no bell, so no one gets told when you upload. And did your audience like your video? What did they think would have improved your video? Is this video the most amazing, inspirational, mind-blowing, or hilarious video you’ve ever made? You’ll never know – no comments.

And speaking of, any community or conversation that happened in the comments on your older videos marked Made for Kids? That’s gone, too. All comments on Made for Kids videos will just disappear.

And you have to check this box yourself. You have to take the initiative to say, yeah, sure, I’ll mark this Made for Kids and forfeit my chance of income and audience. Why? Because if you don’t, the violation fee could reach as high as $42,000 PER VIDEO that is considered incorrectly marked. Not really worth the risk.

Not really worth continuing YouTubing, honestly. If I was a channel at risk for being marked as for kids, I might quit. Making videos that bring in enough money to support you is time-consuming and exhausting. It can eat and destroy your life. You’d better get something for it, because if you hope to continue at your pace and caliber, you’re not going to have the time or energy for another job. I’m amazed these guys have the time or energy for family.

Besides the risk of punishment, there is literally no reason for making “Made for Kids” (I’m calling it MFK now) videos. None. At all. In fact, you are punished if you do. If you follow the rules and dutifully and responsibly mark your videos MFK, you are still punished. No money. No audience. No feedback.

In YouTube’s explanation video which you can watch here (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-JzXiSkoFKw), the YouTube rep emphasizes that the creator best knows their content and audience, so there won’t be any issue if they know their audience is mature enough to not need the MFK denotation. Except… they say that about violence and copyright infringement and pretty much everything else that is put in place to protect viewers and creators, but we see how those things get misidentified all the time by YouTube’s automated systems, and it’s our innocent, unsuspecting creators who get knocked for it.

In addition to that ambiguity, the guidelines are sketchy. What constitutes as MFK? The description given by YouTube includes activities enjoyed by kids and animation. AKA, gaming and animation. That’s all I’m on YouTube for, and I’m not even joking. My entire YouTube presence centers around creators like Game Theory, Film Theory, PeanutButterGamer, SpaceHamster, Chadtronic, BrutalMoose, and Yungtown (links for all these and more down below). Luckily, those last two have veered away from gaming content in the last couple years, but this ensures they will never feel comfortable releasing videos in their original formats. I haven’t been able to find anything about guidelines that distinguish between anime and animation, or gaming for kids and… not, so I can’t help but be scared about what the future of my corner of YouTube looks like.

To emphasize how strict and massive this update will be, I’ve heard reports that videos about South Park are being marked MFK, which… it’s definitely not.

I will include a complete list of YouTubers I am concerned for at the bottom of this post. If you don’t know how a creator can cover kids materials and still be considered adult (they’re all still family friendly, though, so don’t worry!), please check these guys out. Their content and passion are worth fighting for.

Okay. End rant. Now for my outsider-perspective solutions:

There is a loyalty to YouTube for a lot of creators like the ones I mentioned. YouTube gave them their start, their livelihood. They have an established audience here and a good thing going. But I’m not the only one who has begun to predict the rise of another channel. It only makes sense. YouTube punishes you for doing what it’s led you to believe it will pay you for? Take your talent elsewhere. If enough big YouTubers make a big enough deal of the switch, band together, and do it at the same time, the audiences will follow. These audiences know what they’re here for, and they’ll go wherever they have to to get it. I don’t know how practical this actually is, but from my non-creator angle, it makes sense to me.

Either way, I see this as the death of YouTube. Either it makes it impossible for my favorite creators (and many, many, many other viewers’ favorite creators) to make the videos that retain us, and YouTube loses millions of users. Or YouTube makes it impossible for these creators to plausibly stay, and they migrate to their own, new platform, taking their audiences with them. And YouTube will finally be what it truly wants to be: corporate-sponsored talk shows and boy bands. But for me, YouTube just committed suicide kamikaze style.

There are some music channels I am invested in, and they’ll still be here, but these aren’t the channels that relate to me, that cover what I love, that I look forward to every stinking episode from. And I know I’m not alone in this, because gaming has been central to YouTube for years – you know, until news and late night shows and YouTube Originals started beating them out of the trending spotlight thanks to new algorithms.

I feel like it would be better if YouTube just made their own kid’s platform. YouTube is already branching into sister platforms, like YouTube Red and YouTube TV and YouTube Music, so why not a platform specifically for kids? Oh wait… they do have a YouTube Kids. So, instead of trying to separate MFK videos from adult videos on the same channel, creators of content intentionally designed for kids should be given the option to switch over to YouTube Kids, with a link to the new channel on their original YouTube profile – or maybe an automatic redirect. Trying to keep both types of videos on one platform won’t work, because kids will find the not-kid videos, anyway. Just separate the videos out entirely, and let the adult creators keep creating their masterpieces without worrying about things that shouldn’t be a factor – like whether their use of Pokémon will essentially erase their video from existence.

YouTube should have a sign-in agreement, like other art and creative platforms. Users should not be allowed on the site without age confirmation or parental permission. There will be ways around this, but at that point, it’s intentional, and the kids who want to avoid adult content still can peacefully. Make the audience and parents responsible for what our children see, not the creators.

Links to videos to help you figure out what’s going on:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-JzXiSkoFKw – YouTube’s official statement and guidelines

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v85meMWqhKk&t=745s – Pixel Dan’s interpretation of the COPPA guidelines and YouTube’s response to them, as well as how this update will affect his channel

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4mC3Fyt9fBE – Chadronic’s satirical-but-eye-opening explanation of how this update will affect his channel (note: it has been stated since the release of this video that video games actually are not safe from the algorithm, but the drastic measures and impact on his channel remain relevant)

Do a general search for COPPA in YouTube’s search bar to find thousands more – maybe even some from creators you’re invested in.

And also an article explaining how this happened, what’s going on, and what it might mean for the future of YouTube: https://www.theverge.com/2019/11/13/20963459/youtube-google-coppa-ftc-fine-settlement-youtubers-new-rules

Creators I’m concerned for in no particular order:

@chadtronic (self-proclaimed manchild and reviewer of toys) https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcK72Xs5DAM3mnGpyImg63Q

@peanutbuttergamer (variety game reviewer and let’s player – Zelda and Humongous Entertainment enthusiast, known for hacking or modding) Main: https://www.youtube.com/user/PeanutButterGamer Let’s Play: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCS4_hcviJUA6beVsXb0xakQ

@spacehamsterg (variety game reviewer and let’s player – known for reviews of bootlegs and spinoffs) Main: https://www.youtube.com/user/SpaceHamsterGames, Let’s Play: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCTiCMDl01wLOCGXFst90CzQ

Pixel Dan (adult action figure and nostalgic toy collector – Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Masters of the Universe Classics enthusiast) https://www.youtube.com/user/Mandalorian30

@yungtown (musician – produces professional-grade music based on video game stories) https://www.youtube.com/user/yungtown

BijuuMike (anime enthusiast) https://www.youtube.com/user/BijuuMike

@laurenzside-blog-blog (variety gamer – known for Sims and Minecraft) https://www.youtube.com/user/LaurenzSide

ProJared (variety game reviewer and let’s player – known for D&D and Final Fantasy) Main: https://www.youtube.com/user/DMJared, Let’s Play: https://www.youtube.com/user/ProJaredPlays

@thatonevideojirard (variety gamer and game reviewer who literally 100% completes every game he plays) https://www.youtube.com/user/ThatOneVideoGamer

@brutalmoose (variety video game reviewer – Humongous Entertainment enthusiast) Main: https://www.youtube.com/user/brutalmoose, Let’s Play: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCd6Tp3QcHhagsbSpyxmlzpg

MatPat (Film Theory and Game Theory – showing the smart side of “mindless” media entertainment) The Game Theorists: https://www.youtube.com/user/MatthewPatrick13, The Film Theorists: https://www.youtube.com/user/FilmTheorists, GTLive: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCAaegDUlb7doIKo0Rc1F08g

And the ones you probably know, but who fall into the category, and maybe their fame will save them:

Pewdiepie - https://www.youtube.com/user/PewDiePie

JackSepticEye - https://www.youtube.com/user/jacksepticeye

Markiplier - https://www.youtube.com/user/markiplierGAME

Make your own list. Who are you hoping won’t disappear?

Help us fight this! Leave a comment for the FTC here: https://www.youtube.com/redirect?q=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.regulations.gov%2Fcomment%3FD%3DFTC-2019-0054-0001&redir_token=Aih6c8plWidclXKf0MeK9892KzN8MTU3MzkyMjkzNEAxNTczODM2NTM0&event=video_description&v=v85meMWqhKk

And sign the petition here: https://www.youtube.com/redirect?q=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.change.org%2Fp%2Fyoutubers-and-viewers-unite-against-ftc-regulation&redir_token=Aih6c8plWidclXKf0MeK9892KzN8MTU3MzkyMjkzNEAxNTczODM2NTM0&event=video_description&v=v85meMWqhKk

#COPPA #YouTube #FDC #distinguish between child-directed and child-attractive #toys aren't just for kids #gaming isn't just for kids #animation isn't just for kids #modernize COPPA

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everythingisgayandnothinghurts · 5 years

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The Misfits

So I wrote a thing that’s just pointless fluff. High school AU featuring the main six plus a few others. No Endgame spoilers here or any sadness. It’s a simple high school / youtuber AU thing that I thought would be fun to write when I have time. If you guys could check it out I’d appreciate it!!

“Well, hey guys,” Tony’s face popped up on screen for a second before he looked away with a tiny grin. “Long time, no see right? Well the end of August is finally here so you guys have me back again. I really hope Clint didn’t do anything too stupid while I was gone.” Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair which was already messily sticking up in the back. “Thanks for all the messages across social media and the comments saying how much you missed me. I just read them this morning and then I couldn’t help making this video. We have a ton to catch up on it would seem.”

The screen got wobbly for a second as Tony settled down on the usual black leather couch always featured in his videos. He adjusted the camera for a few seconds before relaxing and looking back at the camera even as his hands fiddled with something off screen. “So, where to start? Well thanks to Dad you guys know I’m Tony Stark now since he made me do all those TV appearances. That’s been...both good and bad. Thankfully Dad still doesn’t know about this channel so there’s that. I’ve gotten a lot of questions about that so maybe the last part of this video will be a kind of Q&A type of thing. This isn’t going to change anything honestly, and you will still be around for all of our shenannigans. Senior year this year and it should be...well maybe it will be everything we want and maybe not. Jury is out on that.”

Tony fell silent for a minute before pulling out his phone and starting to scroll. “I”m looking for what to tell you about the summer. Mostly it sucked as you can guess. I was in too many meetings and not enough outside. Steve is on his way over so things will get interesting here in a minute. He’s probably not going to be thrilled I’m filming already… alone time and all that. I missed him almost as much as I missed you guys, almost. I hate being away from this channel for almost three months. Uh, I did go over to Costa Rica and that was fun enough. Got to be on the beach for a couple days. Being in love sucks guys since nothing is really enjoyable alone anymore. I just wanted Steve with me on that beach the entire time let me tell you.”

A knock distantly came and the change over Tony was almost laughable. Any remaining tension left his shoulders and his face lit up into a grin people were lucky to ever see. He indicated to the camera to wait a second before nearly bouncing over to the door and only a flash of blonde hair was seen before Tony jumped into the arms of his boyfriend to hug him tightly. They swayed on the spot with something said quietly by Steve which made Tony laugh. The camera cut out for a moment until the two were settled on the couch close together and Tony holding Steve’s hand in his. “He’s grumpy guys, I told you he would be.”

“I’m not grumpy,” Steve rolled his eyes as he switched the hand Tony held to wrap the other one around his shoulders. “He’s still the same liar he’s always been. Hello again everybody.”

“They don’t care about you,” Tony protested as he teasingly angled the camera to focus on him. “They’ve seen you all summer long. I’m what they’re here to see as always. You guys are simply filler material. So I thought today we could answer some simple questions before we, ahem, properly reunite.”

“We don’t fuck on the couch,” Steve said immediately, making Tony laugh loudly. “I already know that’s going to be in the comment section today. It’s a no, seriously a no.”

“We almost have,” Tony said thoughtfully before Steve smacked him upside the head. Tony snickered to himself before bringing up his phone again and finding actual questions. “What’s it like to be a billionaire? Why would you bother to worry about your grades when you can buy your way into any school you want?”

Tony sighed and Steve tried to hide the concern for him. “Okay, yeah, so I have a shit ton of money. I won’t be giving house tours only because it’s probably not the safest thing. I debated even coming back to Youtube after the news was out, but-” Tony cut himself off and swallowed a few times. “I can’t leave this channel and I’m begging you guys not to force me to. I know my address is on the internet out there, but this channel has been around long enough that most of you can guess that if my dad finds out that’s game over for this. Back to the actual question here, I care about my grades because I like school and I am a giant nerd dating the jock of the football team. I like to learn and discover things and I am going to run a billion dollar company one day so I need to learn a lot anyways. I don’t plan on doing it all through advisors if I can help it. The Starks may have money, but we have smarts to match it.” Tony looked at Steve and plastered on a look of shock. “I just gave my father a compliment, must be ill. Maybe you’ll have play nursemaid.”

“Keep dreaming,” Steve fondly smiled and took Tony’s phone from him. “Does everyone at school know who you are? Do people treat you differently?” Steve looked back at the camera, his blue eyes soft and fond. “Tony being a Stark has never been a secret, but I will admit things got more complicated when we got into high school and realized what money could mean. Tony gets crap for a lot of things, and money is a big one. He gets a lot over having a personal driver and butler every day. He has people trying to get to him for his money, but Clint keeps those people away for the most part. Most of the school things Natasha and Tony are a thing still, even if we don’t keep our relationship a secret really. People will think what they want, right? “

“These are depressing questions,” Tony changed topic and took his phone back. “I know you guys are more creative than this. We all know from the early days what a sad life I have. Oh hey Steve there’s one for you. Does it ever intimidate you that when you marry Tony you will have to live up to his legacy in a way as well?”

Steve turned a faint shade of pink before getting somewhat serious. “We have actually considered Tony becoming a Rogers and running away from the company altogether.”

“Don’t feed the shippers I beg of you,” Tony groaned as he hid his face in Steve’s shoulder.

“I’m not worried about the Tony part of the future,” Steve said quietly. “Tony is the one part of the future I”m looking forward to. His company is large and a lot, but we don’t have to worry about the entire thing the second we graduate. Tony has college to worry about first, and I’ll be with him through all of it. Whatever I need to know Tony will let me know, and it’s really that simple.”

The look on Tony’s face clearly said he wanted to kiss Steve right then and there, but he forced his gaze back to the phone instead. “Do you have a crystallized dildo Tony?” This time Tony did laugh for a solid thirty seconds before being able to straighten up and attempt to answer. “I don’t, but I think that’s on my amazon list now.”

“You would find that question,” Steve muttered and took the phone back while Tony was dissolved in laughter. “You seem to have a great relationship with your driver, is that true?”

“Why do you make me be a human being?” Tony whined dramatically before sighing. “My driver is also our butler that I’ve known since I was a kid. He’s like a dad to me and he’s absolutely amazing. He’s honestly the reason I’m still alive.”

“Why did you pick Clint to keep up the channel over the summer?” Steve read off next after smiling fondly. “I also want to know this one. Clint was… not the most responsible choice.”

“Clint had plenty of experience posting random crap here already,” Tony answered, once again in comfortable territory. “Plus he has the most creative challenge ideas of all of us to keep you guys entertained. I’m better at vlogging, but he has the challenge ideas. It just seemed easier. Are you seriously offended I didn’t pick you, babe? You could have filmed whatever you wanted.”

“Of course I’m not,” Steve rolled his eyes with a kiss to Tony’s temple. “I was in plenty of videos while you were gone, but everyone said I looked lovesick.”

“You better have,” Tony pouted over at him before grinning at the camera again. “Well, now that I’m back and life is going back to normal somewhat uploading will be the usual. I’ll vlog three times a week plus challenge videos plus Clint’s bonus video crap you guys love so much. Thanks for sticking around while the channel was quiet and get ready for senior year with….God, I guess the squad does suit us by now. Bye guys!” Both boys waved to the camera before the screen cut out.

~~~

Tony sighed now that the camera was off and didn’t hesitate to tangle a hand in the back of Steve’s head to pull him in for a proper kiss hello. “It’s so good to be home. I missed everyone and the channel and you of course.”

“I was worried about you,” Steve told him quietly. “You looked so tired all summer when I glimpsed your appearances. Did you sleep at all? Your dad treated you like some kind of SI mascot.”

“I slept as much as I ever do,” Tony waved a hand vaguely, snuggling into Steve’s chest. Steve did worry about him, too much. He wasn’t worth all of that and he could survive anything. His father had proved that over and over again over the years. He hadn’t honestly slept that much, but he didn’t lie when he said it wasn’t usual. Three months alone with Howard didn’t really help his self-esteem any. He was a thing to Howard, a new way to sell the future of his company. He was a pretty face and not a whole lot more. “Care to accompany me upstairs to scratch the itch?”

“Literally the worst way to proposition sex, ever,” Steve told him and Tony knew he was rolling his eyes. “How long do we have until the rest of them show up?”

“I never said they were coming over,” Tony said innocently and hid his face further in Steve’s chest.

“They totally are though,” Steve confirmed. “What time?”

“Clint said seven,” Tony admitted. “Do you wanna go grab dinner instead?”

“I did sort of miss your obnoxious orange monstrosity,” Steve admitted, rubbing soothing circles on his back. Tony wanted to just stay here forever, but they did need some food and he would probably eat a full meal with Steve across from him at one of their favorite places. HIs father was still on the SI press tour for a few weeks and Tony hoped Steve could just stay with him until he couldn’t any longer. He needed sleep and relaxation and food, three things he only got when he was with his boyfriend and best friend in the entire world.

“You missed my money!” Tony accused playfully, pulling back and looking very affronted. “The rumors were true the entire time! Only with me for my money, and I thought you had stronger morals Rogers!’ He leapt off the couch and turned his back with his arms folded. “I suppose I’m paying for dinner too?”

Steve chuckled into his ear as he was taken into strong, warm arms and Tony fought to not let his knees go weak. He turned to face Steve and found his lips claimed by ones he dreamed about constantly while he was gone. Steve’s mouth was warm against his own and Tony eagerly licked into Steve’s mouth for a taste of what he had been missing. He pressed himself closer and whined lowly when Steve’s thigh ended up between his own. He found himself pressed against the doorway and had no complaints when Steve’s large hands squeezed his ass firmly.

“I missed you,” Tony said, breathless as Steve kissed his neck and he was pretty sure it sounded more desperate than he meant it to. He had cried on many a balcony or beach after a rough night when Steve was so far away from him. This summer had proved that he wasn’t being dramatic when his heart told him he would never survive without this man.

“MIssed you too, darling,” Steve said softly and that was all it took for Tony’s heart to melt into a puddle. This was the voice Tony heard before he drifted off to sleep each night when his mind told him he wasn’t enough. He heard Steve say how much he loved him and how adored he was. The tears sprang up and Tony looked away quickly. A gentle hand under his chin made his eyes meet blue and he swiped at the one tear that escaped. “I know this summer was hard, love. I’m here now, okay? This is the last summer you have to go through that crap, alright? Next year we can lie on a beach together.”

“Sorry, sorry, I know,” Tony assured him quickly, not wanting the mood to get truly maudlin. “Let me treat you to dinner before the hooligans come over.”

“What’s the video tonight?” Steve asked, picking up on lightening the mood for now. Tony knew he had more to deal with, but he was really looking forward to tonight with their friends.

“Clint promised something simple,” Tony shrugged as he was gently released from the wall and back onto his feet. “He told me just to be here and he would take care of the rest or something.”

“You trust him way too much,” Steve took his hand and the grounding presence was so nice after months without it. Tony truly hoped next summer was better for them.

~~~

“Well, hello hello,” Clint grinned into the camera as the rest of their group settled down on the couches behind him. “The MIsfits are back together again at last, now that Tony stopped playing celebrity finally.”

“Screw you!” Tony called from a corner of the couch, showing the middle finger unashamed.

“So tonight we are starting off the school year with a rematch of MarioKart since Tony has the best system for it and the largest TV. Then we are going to have one last bonfire before we are resigned to school all over again.” Clint made a displeased face before switching the camera around so the others were properly on screen. “First, let’s take inventory of how everyone has changed over the summer. Everyone has their Look for senior year, or something like that. I don’t keep up with that shit.”

“Nat wins for back to school hair!” Tony called out firsti. “She is killing the blonde ombre!”

“Too bad she’s taken for the rest of eternity,” Clint’s voice said, and it was plain he was pleased with himself. “FIne, my girlfriend does have blonde in her hair and looks completely gorgeous. Not to mention she has ten million freckles, and I’m not exaggerating. I’ve seen them in places-”

“If you want to see them ever again, you’ll shut the hell up,” Natasha said as the camera swung over to her on the opposite corner to Tony on the L-shaped couch. “Bucky also has gorgeous hair, thanks for my influence.”

“Oh, right, “ Clint focused the camera on Bucky, who never looked thrilled to be on screen. “Bucky decided to keep his hair long through baseball season and Nat says he can rock the man bun or something. The facial hair does look nice I’ll admit. He might not be single the entire year for a change.”

“I really just want to play this game,” Bucky grumbled. “Not sure why anyone cares what we look like.”

“Tony just got tan and gorgeous,” Clint sounded nothing but exasperated as the camera went to Tony, tucked under Steve’s arm and hair messily arranged. “Also taken for eternity, sorry ladies and gents. They haven’t stopped touching all night and we are all about to gag.”

“Only you on that one Clint,” A voice called and the camera quickly shifted to Bruce Banner, sitting on the floor between Thor’s legs.

“Oh, well while he decides to speak up let’s focus on the newest couple,” Clint narrated happily. “So Bruce got new glasses, new hair, and shirts that aren’t ten sizes too big. All influence of Thor, latest member of this channel. Say hi, Thor.”

“ ‘Lo, everybody,” Thor said as he raised a hand.

“Alright, let’s get this party on so I can keep my titled championship,” Clint said, rearranging the camera so they were all in view. The room fell quiet for a minute as the loading screen finished amidst quiet chatter and soft laughter.

A screech broke the peace.

“Who the FUCK stole Toad?” Clint demanded as Nat cackled, picking her usual character bowser. “Toad is mine, everybody fucking knows that. What the ever loving fuck?”

“Remember that five second period when we wanted to be family appropriate?” Bruce asked dryly. “There is no character claiming Clint.”

“Banner, if you stole Toad I swear you will never know peace again,” Clint threatened with a glare.

“Tell that to my boyfriend that could end you with one punch,” Bruce said smugly to laughter throughout the room.

“I got my girl Peach so don’t come after me,” Tony said as he got more comfortable against Steve.

“Fuck all of you,” Clint said moodily, clicking on baby bowser sulkily. “I’m still going to dominate this.”

“You’re my minion, that’s cute,” Nat teased him, leaning forward to concentrate.

“Is anyone not your minion?” Bucky asked, and the way he kept glancing at Clint gave a clue as to who stole his beloved character.

“True point, Barnes,” Nat said with a smirk. “Get ready to lose my minions.”

“You guys really take this too seriously,” Thor said quietly in the background.

The race was soon on, and so all quiet moments were ended until the tournament was over.

The room was quickly filled with screaming and cursing as the unfair realities of the game were made known. At one point a drink was spilled all over Bruce on the floor, who tackled Clint in retaliation while the race was going on making them both lose horribly and Clint to screech once more and hit Bruce repeatedly with a pillow.

The screen cut out after Tony jumped around victorious on the couch over all his friends and nearly fell four times.

The next time the screen came to life was in the kitchen where Steve, Tony and Clint were gathering supplies for s’mores around their fire.

“Now, do we know what goes into a s’more? Like for regular folks?” Clint asked form behind the camera and Tony popped his head up from fetching a bag of marshmallows.

“I mean Steve informed me what you peasants eat, yes,” Tony said snottily as he grabbed the fire sticks. “I do these things to amuse the rest of you. My class of people just roast duck over the fire after all.”

“Who did we trust starting the fire?” Steve said, glancing to where a blaze of fire just shot up.

“Bruce, I think,” Tony answered him, unconcerned about what was happening outside. “If he burns the house down, it would be too good to be true.”

“I thought you wanted to burn things yourself, next year?” Clint asked him. Tony rubbed his forehead for a second as he tried to find some chocolate.

“Well, head starts are always encouraged,” Tony said absently. Steve was quiet, watching with concern on his face. He shot a look to the camera and suddenly the view switched back to Clint’s face quickly.

“Well, thanks for watching everybody! We are as glad as you guys are to be together again and making fun videos again! Like this video if you enjoyed Tony’s latest summer look, and subscribe if you want to see my gorgeous face again! Til next time guys! Bye!”

#tony stark #steve rogers #stony #high school au #youtuber au #clintasha #clint barton #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #thor #bucky barnes #mywriting #just for fun guys #please don't roast me

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wardencommanderrodimiss · 6 years

Text

Chapter 18: Klavier and Phoenix both know weird people, and Apollo is always suffering for it. also, there is the inescapable passage of time.

[Beginning] [Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

In four successive days, Apollo spots crows following him on six different occasions.

The first is sitting at the kitchen window the morning after his conversation with Klavier. It watches him with a critical eye, and remembering that he has the magatama sitting on his dresser needing to be returned to Phoenix today, he goes to get it. Just out of curiosity, really; but the crow is gone when he gets back.

He counts as part of that same occasion the crows digging around in the dumpsters around back of the office when he arrives. After Klavier mentioned a witch and a crow hanging around bothering him, he doesn’t think he won’t be able to notice crows, but the trash seems like normal crow behavior. He knows they’re smart, but there was something very uncomfortable about the staring of the one earlier. He doesn’t bother with the magatama in his pocket.

Even though Phoenix did imply that he did want Apollo to go chase down Klavier, he doesn’t know whether that was supposed to be in the middle of a Thursday, without preamble, and not asking to take the magatama on the way out. Biking over, he prepared excuses. Phoenix enters the office around 10 am and Apollo, offering the magatama, cannot even get through “Sorry—” before Phoenix cuts him off.

“No worries. How’s Klavier doing?” Phoenix flips the magatama over in his hand the way Trucy sometimes spins playing cards.

“Not good,” Apollo says, because he simply wasn’t, “but I don’t think going for ‘spiraling off a cliff’, either.”

“That’s good to hear.” Phoenix is still fiddling with the magatama. “If you can, keep an eye on him still, would you?”

“Uh,” Apollo says. “Yeah, okay?”

Trucy shows up in the afternoon, her arrival heralded by her outside yelling, “Stop eating trash! You’re better than this!” and Apollo counts that as Crow Encounter 1.5.

The second is in the building lobby when he and Clay head out grocery shopping over the weekend. All three of them freeze and stare at each other. “You see it, right?” Apollo asks. Clay nods.

Apollo holds the door open for it on the way out and it squawks at him.

The third is at the kitchen window again that evening, every time he looks. He doesn’t have a magatama this time, can’t do anything but glare back at it. It flies away, croaking loudly, when he brandishes a barbecue wing (Clay ordered them and invited Mr Starbuck over to watch hockey) at it. He doesn’t answer the two of them when they ask what he’s laughing at when he returns to the living room, not really wanting to talk about witches right then.

By the fourth, he’s figured out how to distinguish one of them. If there are several together, if he looks closely, one of them looks almost blue – a dark, glossy navy blue, but still blue – compared to any other. There’s no apparent pattern in the next crow sightings whether the bluish one is there or not. After the sixth, when it is there on a bench in People Park and doesn’t fly away when he and Trucy and Vera approach to eat, but instead just hops around his feet, he offers it an egg and gives up both on counting and on pattern-searching. That one is probably the familiar, he thinks, harassing Apollo whenever it can be spared from its work – though what use a bird is to a prosecutor, he has no idea.

The crows, he doesn’t mention to Klavier. He’s not sure if he should say something like “you should go say hi to your witch coworker so that I stop being stalked by birds as your one apparent human contact” when, since having seen each other in person, since that last thanks, their texts have not strayed from light, stupid remarks. Klavier complains about Vongole’s shenanigans (having apparently not yet hellhound-proofed his fridge) or passes along the weirdest out-of-context statements he hears in the halls (if that implies that he has rejoined office social life, Apollo doesn’t know); Apollo relays Trucy’s best and worst jokes or sends a snapshot of Vera’s latest painting. Phoenix catches him texting and asks, every time, if it’s Klavier. He does this every two days, then every three; then every week, like he’s willing to lengthen the leash with the consistency of the knowledge that – Klavier is alive? It’s a bleak thought, that Phoenix might be expecting otherwise.

October slips into November. The office gets colder; more blankets manifest on top of bookshelves and on desks and chairs and are thrown at Apollo’s head. He’s almost grown used to Phoenix’s constant presence, is used to, to the point of sometimes forgetting, Vera’s. Trucy starts a Youtube channel and makes getting work done in the afternoons difficult recording videos of little sleight-of-hand magic tricks, drags the wifi to a crawl uploading them. She records a cover of My Boyfriend is the Prosecution’s Witness, and then another one where she changes all the pronouns, and Apollo sends both to Klavier. She doesn’t talk much about fae magic anymore, tries to get Apollo into professional wrestling, and sometimes he pretends he didn’t see her sitting at Phoenix’s desk with the mitamah cradled in her hands. Vera tries to paint her nails in the office once and Phoenix gags on the smell. He asks Apollo what he’s been talking to Klavier about lately.

Toward the end of November, Apollo is alone at the office, reorganizing some paperwork for the little cases he’s managed to pick up, when he hears the front office door loudly creak open and someone yell, “‘Sup, Mia! Eyyo, Niii-iick!”

Apollo pokes his head out, not sure what or who he will find, and certainly not expecting a man wearing red skinny jeans and a blazer jacket so orange that Apollo feels compelled to tell him that Halloween was last month. The beret doesn’t really help the costume effect. “Hello?” Apollo calls. “Do you need something?”

(He’s learned from Iris’ warning.)

“You must be Apollo! Nick’s told me about you, like, once, but he’s pretty shit about keeping everyone up-to-date, so I figure that’s good. Is he around or am I gonna have to camp out here until he finds his way back?” The man wanders in past the couches to examine Vera’s smaller paintings propped up on the piano. “Ooh, nice.”

“Um, who are you?” Apollo asks.

“He hasn’t told you about me?” Apollo shakes his head. “‘Course he hasn’t. Nick’s useless. The name’s Laurice Deauxnim, call me Larry. Everyone does, except everyone who doesn’t.” He extends a hand and Apollo stares stupidly at him for a few seconds before he realizes that he should shake it. “Nick didn’t tell you I’d be coming around?” Apollo shakes his head again. “Seriously, Nick, c’mon.” Larry turns his eyes to the ceiling and spreads his hands wide. “Useless, am I right?” he entreats the ceiling, or maybe Mia, considering that he had mentioned her name on arrival. He must know Phoenix well, to know her. “Anyway, I’m an author-artist, I was off on a book tour-new inspiration tour-vacation kinda thing when he talked to me about your changeling friend, but now I am back, baby.”

A pillow hits Larry in the face, and not softly lobbed the way blankets hit Apollo or Trucy, but like it came straight from an air cannon.

“Uh,” Apollo says.

Larry tosses it back at the couch. “Good talk, Mia.”

“I have no idea when either Mr Wright or Vera are going to get here,” Apollo says. If he thinks back, he can remember Phoenix saying that there was someone he had to introduce Vera to – but he can’t imagine this man, orange and red to Vera’s blues and purples, in any way having any way to relate to her. He can imagine Vera retreating back somewhere into the kitchen and not coming back out. He also can imagine purgatory, which is what waiting around for Phoenix in the same office space as this man will be. Iris may have been cryptic and terrifying, but she was quiet.

It’s about ten minutes of some chatter that Apollo tunes out, Larry examining Vera’s paintings and brushes and talking probably mostly to himself, occasionally looking to Apollo like he expects a response he doesn’t get. They both turn expectantly to the door as it opens, and Trucy wanders in with some boxes of Eldoon’s stacked high. “Uncle Larry!” she yelps. “You’re here!”

Uncle, huh. The last one of those was Valant, and this Larry seems to be at least at that level of eccentric, but on Phoenix’s side, not Zak’s.

“Sure am, kiddo! Where’s your dad? He still sleeping, or he finally quit that stupid club?”

“Yeah, he just didn’t go back after the murder trial,” Trucy says. Her smile takes on a bit of a plastic quality as she says the last three words. Who else knows about her father’s murder, who outside of that courtroom; who has she or Phoenix told? “He’s really bad at keeping people up-to-date, huh?”

Larry looks at Apollo and says, “It took him four months to tell me he had a daughter, y’know? And we live in the same city!” Trucy giggles.

Apollo wonders if Larry was ever told that Trucy was adopted. Somehow, he wouldn’t put it past Phoenix.

“Trucy, what exactly is your school schedule?” Apollo asks. He gets the same answer every time, but he still feels obligated to ask, if her father won’t seem to.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says.

“Oof, don’t let Edgy hear that.” Larry rescues Trucy from beneath the noodles and puts them on the coffee table. “Y’know you’re in for another five-hour lecture about ‘the importance of education’” – he throws his voice to some weird accent that sounds nothing like anything and makes Trucy laugh harder – “and how ‘you don’t want to end up like some certain particular orange man who’—”

“You’re not a good example for the perils of flunking high school,” Trucy says brightly. Apollo has a sudden parental urge to ask her what her report card looks like. “You’ve turned out fine, Uncle Larry!”

“It’s all sheer dumb luck and he knows it.” And there’s Phoenix, strolling in with his hands in his hoodie pockets like he knew exactly the timing of when to best appear to make the best joke. “Hey, how’s it going, you sorry bastard?”

Larry gasps in a comically dramatic way, clapping his hands over Trucy’s ears. “I’m fifteen, Uncle Larry,” Trucy says tiredly. “I know what swear words are.”

“Oh.” Larry removes his hands. “Right.” He stares at Phoenix with a glare that keeps turning halfway into a grin before he can fix it. “Well, dumbass, you wouldn’t have to ask how I’m doing if you’d pick up the phone once in a while! Edgy’s better about chatting with me! Edgy is!”

“Sure he is,” Phoenix says with a lazy wave of his hand. “He’s not the one who the fae have banned from getting a new phone that texts faster than a brick.”

“So you two are old friends?” Apollo asks.

Larry gives him a thumbs-up. “Right in one,” Phoenix says.

“Yeah,” Apollo says, “that’s kinda how I greet my best friend, so.”

The three of them chatter over each other, chaotic snippets of conversation burying themselves beneath each other and beneath the weight of obvious years that Apollo is not privy to. Trucy is scolding Larry for forgetting how old she is, and Larry is saying that he just doesn’t have the brains to keep track of the ages of all his friends’ daughters’ cousins’ in-laws, and Phoenix is telling him that he unlike some people doesn’t even have that expected of him and still can’t manage friends’ daughters, and then Trucy has her laptop from somewhere and is pulling up her Youtube channel, and her hat is hovering in midair obviously balanced on her wisp, and Larry elbows Phoenix into a bookshelf.

It’s weird – it’s far more than weird – to see Phoenix on that level of familiarity with someone. With Iris, the history between them, obviously deep, was obviously a gulf that they weren’t trying to, or couldn’t, bridge. But today, Apollo thinks he almost sees a hint of the man Phoenix was before, and not just before the disbarment.

He can’t exactly get away from them; the filing cabinet is in the back room where they settle, Larry lounging in Phoenix’s desk chair with his feet up on the desk, Phoenix sitting on the desk, and Trucy bouncing about all over. He listens to some gossip about mutual friends of theirs – which includes Prosecutor Edgeworth, somehow – and Larry’s career, learning that he’s a picture book writer and artist. A quick search of his name, on Apollo’s fourth stab at how to spell that surname, turns up that he is probably about as successful and well-off as a picture book writer can get. On his wikipedia page – personal life section incredibly short – there’s a note about a woman named Elise with the same surname, another author-illustrator, many less books under her belt, all more than seven years ago, and even less about who she was behind the books.

If Larry wasn’t a friend of Phoenix’s, Apollo wouldn’t think that anything about that was really a mystery. Some people prefer their private lives.

As it is, Apollo tries to dredge up anything from his memory of that month-old aside. It was the same day as his conversation with Klavier, which pushed just about everything else out of his head and didn’t let it back in. “Are you the friend whose mentor was one of the fae?” Apollo asks at the closest thing to a lull in the conversation; Trucy is laughing while Phoenix and Larry glare at each other in mock anger about a joke Apollo didn’t catch, off a discussion about shapeshifters. (Apollo desperately doesn’t and wants to know more about what they know about shapeshifters. It’s the way he feels about most new magic concept. He hasn’t braved asking Trucy more about kitsunes.)

“That’s me,” Larry says. “Unless you’ve made other unfortunate artist friends while I’m not looking, and that’s unlikely, since the only friend you’ve made in the last seven years was a mortal enemy.”

“Look at you,” Phoenix says dryly. “You’ve learned how to use logic, even though I have made friends, thanks.”

“You haven’t told me about any new friends, either,” Trucy says, pouting.

Larry pantomimes stabbing Phoenix in the leg with a pencil. “Anyway yeah,” he says, still gesturing with the pencil but now like he’s a professor lecturing with an imaginary blackboard, pointing to concepts visible only in his mind. “That’s me. Her name was Elise, or at least that’s the name she went by at the end.” He is quiet for a few seconds. “I found her art at a low point in my life, which I guess that low point was ‘most of my twenties’, there Nick I said it before you could, and was so inspired that I reached out to her and I worked with her up until she died.”

“You forgot that the ‘worked with her’ part involved swearing your apparent ‘undying fealty’ to her teachings and ‘everything she could provide you’,” Phoenix says, making a few quotes with his fingers, again with that deep dryness to his voice, not quite sarcastic but plainly amused. “Which – Apollo, tell me the problem of using that phrasing to one of the fae?”

“Everything?”

“Yes,” Phoenix says.

“Shush, Nick,” Larry says.

“I haven’t heard this one,” Trucy says. She perches herself on Apollo’s desk and puts her chin in her hands.

Larry groans. Phoenix’s expression is positively gleeful. “So he’s talking to her about learning painting and publishing from her, in his overdramatic exaggerated way that he says everything,” he says, more animated in his manner of speech than he has ever been before, “and she’s hearing from that ‘oh, he wants to gain magic from me’ and that’s one way how you can accidentally become a witch.”

Does Phoenix know anyone whose life isn’t a fae nightmare? “They don’t make you draw up a meticulous contract beforehand?” Apollo asks.

“They hold the cards in that setup – if you, human, the one at risk, don’t ask, I can’t imagine many would suggest it.” Phoenix snatches the pencil out of Larry’s hand. “Again, sheer dumb luck for it to turn out all right. Be careful swearing oaths to people – you might end up bound and magic for it.”

“I’ll keep that under advisement,” Apollo says, and Phoenix nods like he has imparted some sort of sage wisdom instead of saying something that should, by every right, be obvious.

He isn’t around for wherever and whenever Phoenix introduces Vera to Larry. Their conversation about her assuages some of Apollo’s fears about Larry’s exuberance; Phoenix becomes a human thesaurus but only for the words “sheltered”, “quiet”, and “shy”. “Sorta like Pearls was when we first met her,” Phoenix says, another glimpse of their depth of history, and Apollo wonders about who this girl is before Phoenix adds, “Except Vera grew up here, and Pearls on the other side of the veil.”

Ah. One of the fae. Go figure. How many of them does Phoenix know, anyway, and how is he not dead from it all yet?

Over the next week, Vera’s art supplies begin a slow migration out of the office. She leaves some pencils and sketchbooks around, shows up whenever Larry is meeting with his agent – apparently he hasn’t been home in a while, has a lot to catch up on, drags Phoenix along to anything dealing with a contract while they argue about something pro-bono a decade ago that Phoenix is trying to collect on. Apollo and Trucy leave the office that Friday evening, leaving Vera the only one there, her head in her sketchbook, not even looking up to tell them that she has found the zone and she doesn’t need them to wait around to walk her home.

“I’m so proud of her,” Trucy says, skipping down the sidewalk beneath the spotted streetlights. “She’s come so far since we met her!”

“She’s older than you,” Apollo reminds her.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be proud of her,” Trucy says. “I’m proud of you when you win a case. I’m proud of Daddy that he’s getting his life back together. And I’m proud of Vera for how she’s doing with everything she found out about herself and her family.”

“And how are you doing with everything about you and yours?” He hasn’t asked her, because she has never drawn close to it, seems to have chosen pretending nothing is wrong as her coping mechanism, which Apollo understands. He’s tried forceful repression and almost succeeded at it. He can’t blame her for not wanting to face all that is behind her. But it seems like a better time than any, the distance of nearly a month and a half, and in the dark Trucy doesn’t have to look at him, doesn’t have to work to hide her facial expressions from him.

After a short delay, her face turned from him under the lights, Trucy says quietly, “Mia had some old grimoires. Daddy’s up late reading all of them, looking for stuff about mitamahs. He wants to help, he always wants to help, but he’s so busy, he’s got court stuff and Court stuff and he was talking about taking the Bar again and now this and I wish sometimes for his sake that we hadn’t ever gone and found any of it at all.” Even in the dark, he sees her shadowy figure slump. “And I wanted to be magic like my grandfather and now I don’t know what to be, but I do know I’m a Wright, and Wrights don’t run from the truth even when it hurts or just kinda sucks.”

In spite of himself, Apollo laughs, and Trucy does too. “Your dad has a real way with words,” he tells her, and she laughs again. “But I mean – if you want to learn about magic, you can learn about magic. It doesn’t have to be like anyone else. You can be magic like you.”

(Like Apollo is a defense attorney not like Dhurke, but like Apollo, and he wants to tell her he understands but like every time before, he doesn’t allow himself to form the words.)

“I guess,” she says. “I guess I can.”

His Saturday plans to sleep in and stay in bed for longer end with his phone’s incessant buzzing. 8:36 in the morning, and he is being called by the number that is saved in his phone as the Wright Anything Agency, the ancient desk phone that Apollo doesn’t know exactly how to make an outgoing call from. He’s not sure he’s ever taken a call on it, either; clients just seem to walk in or be handed to him, and he goes from there.

“Hello?”

Silence.

“Trucy,” Apollo says, “this isn’t really funny.”

He hangs up and plants his face back into his pillow.

Buzz buzz buzz.

Wright Anything Agency.

“Trucy—”

At the loud burst of static, Apollo tries to jerk away from the phone in his hand, rolling halfway out of bed in the process. “What the hell,” he says, at some distance to the phone with no idea of whether he can be heard. “Can we not do something weird for one weekend?”

Again, he hangs up, but this time he does not move. His phone barely has time to return to its lock screen before there is a third incoming call from the same source.

He puts it to his ear and waits. The static is back, soft enough to listen to. Its hiss isn’t constant but has peaks and valleys like a hum, like a whisper, like if he just listens hard enough he would swear that it has the same pulse and rhythm as speech. Blinking at the wall behind his bed, he cautiously asks, “Mia?”

The crackle in response is loud, but not painfully. If he had to classify it as anything, it seems like an affirmation, not the scolding of the static of the second call. “Okay,” he says. “You win.”

He hangs up, waiting for a fourth call to chase him down, and it doesn’t.

“Dude.” Clay slumps into the kitchen, yawning, to take in Apollo dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and shoving a granola bar into his mouth. “Where are you going?”

“I’m getting crank-called by my office’s ghost and I’m presuming it’s for something important,” Apollo replies, through a mouthful of granola, and the words come out such a mess that he has to repeat them after he swallows. At Clay’s dead-eyed expression, he adds, “She’s a benevolent ghost, mostly, I think. Mr Wright said.”

“Yeah, call me if you want me to start looking into exorcisms,” Clay says. “Otherwise” – he throws a thumb over his shoulder – “I’m goin’ back to bed.”

In the gray morning, the streets are sparsely-populated and about as quiet as it gets, restless night over and day not quite begun. The office, when Apollo reaches it, pops the door open before he can even try the handle to see if, like every morning, it is unlocked for him. “Hello?” he calls. The room is empty. No one responds. “Who am I even looking for?” he mutters, and in response, the last of Vera’s paint cans rattle. “Vera?” The lights blink and a book falls, almost in slow-motion, from the shelf next to the far door. “Okay.”

How did he not notice Mia’s presence before Phoenix pointed it out? Had she left him alone to flounder before then? Had everything weird just faded into the background weirdness of his life? He opens the door. The lamp on his desk flickers on, a spotlight twisted to point at the bathroom door. In the quiet, the sound of soft sobbing reaches through the door. “Vera?” Apollo repeats.

Abruptly, the sobbing stops. “I’m fine,” she says, her voice raised as much as it possibly can be, soft as it is through the door. “You can go home.”

“You’re crying,” Apollo says. “I’m not going anywhere.” He slumps against the wall and slowly folds down to the floor. “I didn’t have any plans for today, anyway.”

“Please go home.” Vera’s voice emerges closer, from the crack along the wall. She might have moved, too. “You don’t need to see me.”

See her? There’s something he can work with. “What happened, Vera?”

A second passes, an audible sniff, and then several more seconds. “I don’t know how to go back,” she says, fainter again. The lock clicks open. Apollo scrambles to his feet as the door opens. His breath catches.

Something broke, and it isn’t just the cracks in the center of the mirror.

Vera doesn’t look like she was the one who opened the door. She sits on the floor, hugging her knees, and her fingers digging into her jeans are too long, ending in what looks like sharp bony claws. The skin on her hands and face is variegated, patchy, blue a few shades light than her hair and pale lilac mixed across each other like they were sprayed and splattered down onto a canvas. Her ears end in points and curve near their tips but are surprisingly short, ending at least an inch before the top of her head and instead hooking outward. It reminds Apollo a little of a bat. Her red eyes are a little too big for her face, blinking furiously, and she quickly reaches up to rub away the tear tracks down her cheeks. Apollo almost jumps forward, terrified by those claws going so close to her eyes, but he holds himself back and then realizes, with the iron ring on his hand, he would just make things worse. He shoves it down into the pocket of his jeans.

“Oh,” Apollo says.

Why did Mia call him and not Trucy? He’s no good at this.

“Mr Laurice told me all about his mentor.” Vera’s voice, now that she isn’t raising it through the door, drops to a raspy whisper. “And how he didn’t know what she looked like. He showed me a picture of her how she looked as human, but... “ She sniffs again. “I wondered what I look like. So last night I tried and…” Another, louder sniff, and then a sob that she doesn’t choke down. “I can’t go back. I’ve tried and tried and I... And I can’t go out like this.” She chews on the end of one of her thumb-claws and he can see several of her teeth end in long points like her ears and fingers. “People can’t see me like…”

“You’ve been here all night?” Vera nods. “Did you – did you have dinner?” She shakes her head. Apollo fails to conjure a memory of whether she had anything substantial for lunch or was absorbed in her work that early, too. “Okay, um, here’s what we’ll do.” He extends a hand to Vera. She stares at it for several seconds – maybe she can See some lingering effect of the ring – but accepts it and he helps her up off the floor. “I’m gonna call Trucy because she knows a little more about magic, and I’ll run out and get you something to eat, and we can all figure this out together, okay?” She nods. “Okay.”

He tries his best not to sound frantic when he explains the situation to Trucy. Can a glamour just go away, forever? Vera can’t go back to living like a shut-in, not like this, not when she’s been learning not to shy so far away from the world, not when she’s been introduced to a mentor who can do more for her than just let her hang out in a cramped Anything Agency. “I will be there in five minutes,” Trucy says, hanging up immediately after, not letting Apollo ask how she intends for that impossible timetable, since she said she was at home, to work.

Five minutes later, a void-portal opens near the bookshelf – Vera screams – and Trucy stumbles out with a makeup compact mirror in her hand, and Apollo wonders how he forgot about that Gramarye trick. “Got it the first time this time!” she announces proudly, holding the mirror aloft and then letting it fall from her fingers, slumping over as though exhausted. Her hair is tangled, obviously unbrushed, and she doesn’t even have her hat, probably having thrown on the clothes closest at hand, jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt and her white boots. She flings herself over the back of the couch and stays as she lands.

“You didn’t need to exhaust yourself to get here immediately,” Apollo says. Vera puts her face in her hands; maybe it would have been better for her to take longer to arrive, give Vera more time to accept that someone else was going to see her now too.

“I did.” Trucy rights herself and leans forward. “Vera!” She grins. “You’re so pretty!”

Vera moves her hands apart to look up at Trucy with one big red eye. “Those are such good colors for you! You look just like a pretty painting!”

That’s Trucy, good at this, and Apollo, only a comfort to someone who is a thousand times more willing to talk than Vera is. “I’ll go get you something to eat,” he says.

“Not Eldoon’s,” Trucy scolds, turning a frown and furrowed brow up at Apollo.

“I know, and I wouldn’t anyway. No one should have Eldoon’s at nine in the morning!”

Trucy’s expression tells him that she has definitely had Eldoon’s this early in the morning at least once before.

He makes a run to the source of their other dietary staple, Kitaki Bakery, instead. Mr Kitaki knows by now what the Anything Agency tend to get and doesn’t bat an eye when Apollo asks for whatever they have that is minimal salt. Halfway back through People Park, his thoughts bouncing between that first case and Vera’s situation now, he realizes that he and Trucy aren’t the only ones who could help with Vera’s situation.

Hey so, weird question about glamours Is it possible to like get it stuck and not be able to use it again

That doesn’t make any sense when he retreads after pressing send, so he tries again, stops walking to concentrate on whatever the hell he’s trying to convey. Context. Context would probably help.

Vera’s at the agency and she looks not human and she wants to change back and can’t and she’s freaked out Is it possible that she’s just stuck forever or is there some way to go back And how Trucy and I know nothing

He doesn’t know what rock star prosecutors do with their Saturday mornings – it probably depends on what they do with their Friday nights, and Apollo has no clue about that either – but the message is out there, if Klavier is awake to help.

Maybe that’s why Mia called Apollo.

The TV blares the opening theme of the Steel Samurai on Apollo’s return to the agency. Vera, still blue and purple and fae, at least no longer hides her face, and Trucy flings herself into the couch next to Vera. “We’ve got a game plan,” Trucy announces. Apollo hands her the pastry boxes. “Chill out, eat food, relax, and maybe it works better when not stressed.” She pats Vera’s hand, apparently unfazed by her claws. “We’ll just have a chill day in today!”

“I’m sorry,” Vera whispers. “I know you both had better things to do.”

Trucy looks at Apollo. Apollo looks to the ceiling. “Nope,” Trucy says.

“Not really,” Apollo agrees. “You should’ve called, Vera – called last night, especially, really.”

She ducks her head. Her ears more a little, flaring out and moving down. “I didn’t want to be a bother,” she says. “Since I said I would be okay… And then you were all home again, and I would call you back…”

“You’re not a bother, Vera! You’re family!” Trucy grins at her and squeezes her hand. Then the smile falls off her face. “Wait, Polly, Vera didn’t call at all? How did you know…?”

Vera blinks at him, her big eyes making her resemble some sort of owl, if owls had demonic red eyes. “I got a series of calls from the office phone,” Apollo says. “No voice on the other end. I think it was Mia.”

“Oh,” Trucy says, sinking back into the couch. “I bet it was, too.” They watch the Evil Magistrate make a long villainous speech before he flees, and then Trucy adds, “I always wish I could’ve known her while she was alive. ‘Cause I always think I do know her, and then I think – do I, really? How do you get to know someone from her ghost? And why wasn’t I allowed to know her? Why’d some stupid bastard who thought he was hot shit take that away from us?”

The office is silent until the next episode starts and Trucy launches into a story about how Phoenix defended the original Steel Samurai actor. It seems like a diversion, a distraction, from the way the air hangs heavy after Trucy’s outburst, the way the audio from the TV sounds thinner and hollow. He doesn’t mind it. Vera listens to her unblinking, hypnotized, though it is impossible to tell where exactly her eyes are focused, on Trucy or on the television; there is barely a change in the hue of her eyes where the light hits them, no apparent pupils in her ping-pong ball eyes.

They make it through that episode and half of the next, Apollo still puzzling over the apparent circles of people that Phoenix knows, and all jolt at the sound of knocking on the door. Phoenix doesn’t knock, and it’s still barely 9:30 on a Saturday morning. Is the agency properly open on weekends? What are its hours? Apollo has never had a clear idea. The three of them sit frozen for several more seconds, time enough for the knocking to start again. Trucy vaults the back of the couch. “Coming!” she calls, smoothing down some flyaway hairs and yanking the door open. “Oh! Prosecutor Gavin! Hi!”

If Apollo is surprised – and he is, frozen in place and staring in confusion at the back of Trucy’s head as she continues to frantically comb flat her hair – then Trucy, who has no idea that Apollo contacted him, must be shocked as all hell. He checks his phone to see if he hadn’t missed a text in response, some advance warning, finding nothing. He just showed up.

Something thumps to the floor. Apollo finally turns his head. Vera flees over the back of the other couch, landing heavily and slamming the door to the other room hard enough to shake the coffee table. “Vera! Wait—!”

“I see I’m already not helping the situation,” Klavier says dryly. Apollo expects to see the tired-eyed man he last saw over a month ago – has it been that long? – and the plastic smile that paired with that bitter tone. But Apollo doesn’t have the magatama on him, and Klavier is Klavier, insufferably glamorous (in every sense of the word), and he’s grinning at them both with his spotlight smile, like even just in a t-shirt and jeans with his hair pulled back low, he should only be at home on the stage.

Apollo hates him again, though he can appreciate that he isn’t wearing that stupid necklace.

“You could have just… texted back.” Apollo scrambles to his feet as Klavier enters the office, as out-of-place as he was the first time he dropped by. “Or – or just called if it was too much to write—”

“Oh,” Trucy says. “You texted him? That explains – anyway, ignore him, Prosecutor Gavin.” She pats Klavier’s arm. “I’m glad to see you.”

“I could hardly ignore a distressed damsel, ja?” Klavier asks. “And besides, I haven’t seen my favorite Fraülein Magician in a hot second.”

“Vera tried to hide from me too when I showed up,” Trucy says, trailing behind Klavier as they pick their way through the usual office mess. “It’s not just you. And she—”

Klavier yelps and jerks his hand away from the doorknob. Still at some distance to it, Apollo can feel the cold radiating from the metal, an unequivocal warning. If it’s Mia not letting them in, she must have reason; there must be something—

“Your rings,” Apollo says.

“Huh?” Trucy asks.

“Prosecutor Gavin – those are iron, right? And Vera—”

Klavier’s eyes widen. “Ah,” he says, immediately plucking them off of his fingers. “Of course.”

“What happens?” Trucy asks. Klavier, reaching for the door again, a little more hesitant than before, freezes. “Like is it like magnets that it just repels, or…?”

“Like most magic, it depends.” Klavier’s eyes have a vacant, absent look, one that glamour can’t hide. “The scar on Kris’ hand, though – that was iron. I don’t suppose he ever forgave me for it.”

He obviously braces himself before touching the doorknob again, shoulders slumping with relief when nothing happens. “Vera!” Trucy calls, ducking in under Klavier’s arm. “It’s okay! None of us are mad at you, Vera!”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you in court,” Klavier says. “That was unbecoming of me, and you undeserving.”

The bathroom door is open, the kitchen door is nonexistent, and Vera’s voice rises up from somewhere in the room. “I did deserve it,” she says. Trucy makes a beeline for Phoenix’s desk. “You can be mad at me. It’s okay. I screwed everything up, and I’m just like your brother--”

“Nein, Fraülein, let me stop you there.” Klavier walks to the desk and leans against it, his back to Trucy attempting to drag Vera out from underneath. “The only thing you have in common with my brother is that you are both changelings, and I can hardly hold a grudge for that, ja? I do not fault Herr Forehead for being human when many heinous criminals I have prosecuted are also human.”

Apollo decides not to acknowledge that.

Her work done, Trucy hops up onto the desk. Vera stands there, her head ducked, her ears flattened out to the sides and drooping further. Klavier glances back over his shoulder and grins at her; unlike Apollo or even Trucy, he doesn’t have to hesitate a moment. He would have Seen her before, wouldn’t he? “There we go,” he says. “No need for pretty little Fraüleins to hide their pretty faces like that, ja?”

Vera lowers her head further, her eyes almost frantically avoiding Klavier’s, her clawed fingers tugging her hair down around her ears. It doesn’t help. “I would still rather look like me,” she says softly. “I want to be me again.”

Klavier sighs heavily. “Well, that’s the first part of your problem, Fraülein: this is you, much as anything else is.”

A soft sob escapes Vera’s throat. Apollo glares at Klavier. “Like I am Prosecutor Gavin and Klavier the rock star; I am not me if you cut away either. Everyone has different faces for the world at different times, ja? Yours and mine, Fraülein, are just a bit more literal than most.”

Vera sinks down into the desk chair, her hands spread out in front of her, the white hooked claws splayed apart. “I’m afraid I have no answer that will be like—” Klavier snaps his fingers. “I’m not very good at teaching magic, I’ve been told.” His knuckles pale on the hand that he doesn’t have in the air, tightly gripping the edge of the desk. “But I can promise you only more hurt in trying to bury half of yourself.”

“Turn your thinking around!” Trucy says brightly. Klavier looks relieved, probably that they aren’t going to dwell on what he said, read into it everything that is definitely there beneath the surface. “You’re not trying to – to change yourself or anything, just be a different self for the situation. Like how I’m not allowed to wear my top hat to school, or Polly – well, I guess Polly’s only got one face and it’s loud.”

“Hey!”

“There you go proving her point,” Klavier says with a smirk.

“Daddy says that magic is all about being sure,” Trucy continues, content to ignore that which she has sparked. “That if you don’t think you can, you won’t. So you can! I know you can!” She beams at Vera. She’s a good cheerleader; it’s part of what makes her such a good counsel in court. (The other part is that she’s smart as hell, but sometimes Apollo needs someone to believe in him when he doesn’t believe in him.)

Vera stares at her claws, visibly uncomfortable with the attention all on her. “Why didn’t my father tell me?” she asks. “I could have figured this out a long time ago.”

Apollo, thinking about someone else who wasn’t told, who also found out in a bad situation, fails to not look at Klavier, who glances away. Trucy turns to look at him as well. “There’s hardly a guide for how to raise a changeling, ja?” Klavier drums his fingers on the desk. “Perhaps he hoped to stop you from being torn in two like this. Perhaps he worried that once you knew, you would try some sort of dangerous magic. Perhaps he was afraid to face it, too. Who knows? I have wondered often myself, much as I know it is far too late to ask.”

Apollo thinks, if not quite that question, he and Trucy just as well have questions for their parents, far too late to ask them. And Trucy’s face falls, her eyes cast down toward her boots, undoubtedly thinking the same. There’s one other question Apollo has, one he could ask, one that isn’t too late, and doesn’t: why Klavier didn’t tell anyone what Vera was. Was he afraid to face it, for fear of facing that echo of his brother?

For several minutes, the only sound in the office is the faint rumble of the TV from the next room over. Trucy is the first to move; she doesn’t speak but instead gasps and smacks Apollo’s arm. “Vera!” she says, fortunately excited, not horrified or afraid. “Your hands, look!”

And she grabs one of Vera’s hands – still mottled like paint splashes, but purple and blue the whole way up her fingers, ending with silver nails and stubby human fingertips. “Good work, Fraülein!” Klavier says, leaning halfway over the desk to look. He grins at her, another one of his flashbulb smiles, and Apollo would swear that the skin on Vera’s cheeks, even the blue part, takes on a purpler tone. Is that how she blushes with this face?

“I thought glamour was just illusions,” Trucy says, still holding Vera’s hand and studying it like it is a piece of evidence. Vera for her part at least doesn’t seem to mind. “But like…” She taps the end of one of Vera’s fingers. “There’s obviously not an invisible claw here. So it’s like a kind of shapeshifting?”

“It’s magic, Fraülein,” Klavier says. “It is a glamour. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“I’m an artist,” Vera says softly. “Whatever face I have… I’m an artist. And I’m not trained to hold a brush with claws, so…” She shrugs. Trucy finally drops her hand. “They went away.”

Magic is about being sure, and if she’s sure of anything, it’s that.

Klavier offers her a high-five, which she accepts. “You’ve got it, Fraülein.”

“Just not…” She frowns. “The rest.”

“Ach, don’t doubt yourself now. I’ve no doubt before long you’ll be able to show off either of your lovely faces whenever you choose. And all without my poor advice.”

Vera starts to giggle and then hastily presses her hand over her mouth. “It helped,” she says.

They can’t hear the front door open, but it is apparent when the murmur from the TV is added to. Phoenix’s voice drifts in, half a conversation, starts and stops, and like no one else is with him. They all look to the door and Phoenix enters, phone in one hand, two heavy-looking leather-bound books balanced in his other arm. His eyes pass over the four of them, flashing blue and black, but his part of his conversation doesn’t falter. “Okay, but there’s absolutely no need to have a midlife crisis at seventeen,” he says. He drops the two tomes on Apollo’s desk.

“I did that,” Klavier says quietly. “Wouldn’t recommend it, either.”

Phoenix stands with his hand still on the books, shaking his head at whatever is being said on the other end of the line. He rolls his eyes. “Well first I’d take a breath, and then – no, they’re not going to discriminate based on your birthday, I know a kid – not really a kid anymore, she’d kick my ass if she heard that – who got her badge at thirteen so you are – take a breath, please.” He drags a hand down his face. “Yeah, words of wisdom still aren’t really my forte, so I’d hang up the phone and go study some more – yeah.” He laughs. “And I do kinda have to cut you off, sorry. Got some kids here in local time I gotta check up with.” His eyes flicker between colors at them again. “Of course there’ll still be room for you here. Just maybe not as much space as I thought a year ago. Talk to you later, kiddo. Right,” he says, shoving the phone into his pocket and spinning on his feet a little to properly face them all. “Someone wanna give me the opening statement?”

“Glamour’s stuck,” Trucy says.

“I panicked,” Vera says, sinking down a little further in the desk chair.

Phoenix nods. “It happens. Even some friends of mine, they’ve known their magic their entire lives – still, they get hurt or tired or hungry or upset, and they’ll end up stuck for a bit, too. Which – checklist.” He holds up two fingers and taps one for each question. “Have you eaten recently?” Vera nods. “Sleep okay last night?” She shakes her head. “That’s not gonna help, for sure.”

“I feel a little better now,” Vera says, staring down at her hands again. They are still clawless. “Trucy and Apollo helped. And Prosecutor Gavin too, a lot.”

“Good to hear.” Phoenix takes a few steps toward his desk and stops, raising his voice without turning his head. “Speaking of, Prosecutor Gavin could at least stand to say goodbye before he sneaks out.”

And Apollo turns his head and Klavier simply isn’t there any more. He made the joke – probably not a joke – about being seventeen and now Apollo scans the room and he is simply gone. Gone, and knowing the sensation to expect, Apollo can’t make his eyes focus on a space next to the door.

“You don’t have a magatama on you,” Klavier says. He doesn’t really reappear, like he was invisible and now isn’t. “How did you…?”

“I’m a father,” Phoenix says, “of a daughter with a will o’ the wisp that, when she was littler, she liked to use to distract me while she stole cookies out of the pantry.” Trucy’s face turns pink; Phoenix grins unrepentantly. “I know when you kids are trying to make me look somewhere else.”

“Ah,” Klavier says.

Phoenix waves over his shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger,” he says. “Door’s usually unlocked.”

Klavier nods once, wide-eyed, numbly, and he slips through the door.

“Still didn’t say goodbye,” Phoenix mutters.

“I don’t think he likes you very much,” Vera says quietly, staring intently down at her nails.

“No,” Phoenix says. “Not really. We’ll work on that, but you first, kiddo.” He claps a hand on Vera’s shoulder. “One worry at a time.”

“Daddy,” Trucy says sharply. She has gone to Apollo’s desk, paging through the thick volumes that Phoenix deposited there. “You said you were running errands when you left.”

“That was my plan,” he says, dragging his hand down his face, but nothing about his movements appears like a lie to Apollo. “Then I was handed possible new leads and got waylaid.”

Trucy’s frown deepens. “Daddy…”

It must be about the mitamah again, like Trucy said last night. “I’m not overworking myself, sweetheart, I promise,” Phoenix says.

And that isn’t a lie, either, not to Apollo’s eyes, but the dark shadows under Phoenix’s eyes still contest that truth. He can’t actually be managing just one worry at a time.

I’m pretty sure Mr Wright doesn’t hate you You didn’t have to run out like that

-Ah, you had all your agency people there -I didn’t want to impose

You’re like the least imposing visitor to ever show up here tbh Not like the fae woman who just showed up and then told me to watch my phrasing on how I ask clients if they need help

-the what

Yeah

-You’ll have to tell me about that sometime

#now i have to spend the rest of the day on schoolwork and i am not looking forward to it wooooo #fic: the seelie of kurain #roddy fanfics

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sanshynapa-blog · 6 years

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Stages Of Being A Fan Girl

The transformation from a normal person into a fan girl is never easy. It’s like taking a good cup of suffering - having a new routine, new lifestyle and a new motivation. So here’s a guide you should check to know if you are already showing signs of being a fan girl.

CONFUSION

One of your friends shows a music video, but you’re not sure what’s going on since you can’t understand the lyrics. After a few days, you find yourself humming that one particular tune.

Of course, you try to stop yourself. But you keep on thinking about those boys who speak and sing like an alien. Its sounds weird, but something is making you want to watch the music video one more time.

You sit down and look up the music video. “Just one,” you promise yourself. So you watch it. Then you watch another music video, and then another music video. You are now at the point of no return – you go through song after song and video after video without realizing what you’re doing. Buckle up, because this is just the beginning.

CURIOSITY

Curiosity kills, but knowing nothing is like dying without a cause. Might as well, right? All the boys from that first music video caught your attention, but there was that one boy that really stole the show. You just can’t stop thinking about him. It’s an itch that needs to be scratched. You go online and do your research. In just a few hours, you already know everything about him: his whole name, his birthday, his hobbies, his school, his favorite food, even the story of his auditions and his debut.

The word contentment suddenly fades away from your vocabulary. You can never know enough. So you start to regularly check their YouTube channel and social media accounts for more updates. You start to wonder if you’re going crazy. Don’t worry, the answer is no. Not yet. We still have a long way to go.

DENIAL

“Aren’t you a Kpop fan?” someone asks you.

“Who? Me? Are you out of your mind? Of course not.”

You judge their outfits and hairstyles just to prove your point. You go even further by making fun of their accents. Deep down inside, it hurts. You like Kpop. You love Kpop. You can only hide that for so long. Say it with me: I am a Kpop fan.

This painful charade goes on for a week. You’re afraid that your friends will find out because they’ll freak out. This isn’t you. You’ve become someone your past self would make fun of. Afterwards, you give in. You start downloading videos and songs again. They’re all in your phone for safekeeping. You assure yourself that no one needs to know about them.

SHAME

After countless debates with yourself, you’re still not convinced that you should expose your fan girl side. You want to show your friends that you’re not attracted to Korean idols, but your memory card is running out of space because of saved photos and uploaded videos.

You continue stalking your bias and listening to their songs secretly. You keep it in the down-low for a while. Saturdays are for your idols. No distractions and exemptions. You create other social media accounts secretly so you can look at GIFs over and over again.

Just when you were about to recover from their old hugot songs, updates on their comeback explode on your feed. You try your best not to get curious since you’re not yet ready for another kilig overload, but you are very sure that it will be your next jam. Like they say, once you get into fandom, there’s no backing out. You finally accept your fandom and decide to live it outside the shadows.

OBSESSION

Now you have officially lost your guard. You cannot help yourself but follow what your heart dictates – and it is being a fan.

You start to buy merch. Seeing their faces on screen is not enough. You keep on looking for something you can touch, hug, cuddle and kiss. Your closet turns to a tiny merchandise shop and you could it consider as the loveliest stock room existing in this world.

No one is asking or forcing you but you try hard to learn Korean. You find yourself repeating every word you hear in the dramas you are watching and start writing the names of your biases in Hangeul. You spend a lot of time studying the lyrics of the new song of your favorite idols than memorizing multiplication table and periodical table.

Whenever you hear their song playing or see their faces on posters and billboards, a big smile appears on your face. You also start to watch videos without subtitles because you’ve managed to understand them through your heart.

Admiration is often misinterpreted as obsession. However, it is only a sign that you and your bias have become one. It’s like a relationship. Spending time and giving attention is the best way to show affection.

ACCEPTANCE

Being a fan means having fun and engaging passionately. Last I checked, there’s no implemented law that exists against individual’s happiness, so it’s not a bad thing. You’re just doing what you love. That's something you should never be ashamed of. Wear your fan girl badge loud and proud.

Don’t mind what others will say. After all, it’s still your choice to stay in the fandom or just leave. Remember, nothing beats expressing your love for your favorite idol without feeling awkward and judged.

#journal #fangirl #kpop #stagesoffangirl #fangirling

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notquiteaghost · 7 years

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so. consider. drarry buzzfeed unsolved au

a good extention of the ‘post-war draco running away to become a muggle’ trope is he starts a vlog channel, imo. if anyone is gonna!!! & he just vlogs about weird muggle shit but in such a way it reads as, like, sarcastic irony to muggles? so he has this following of people who mostly think he’s a comedy man. he’s niche but popular for being niche, like a few hundred thousand subs at the time of this au

&, so, harry crashes draco’s vlogs sometimes. they’re not dating (yet) but they are good friends who spend a lot of time together. probly this started cuz draco owled harry to ask how the fuck various muggle shit worked & in true draco malfoy fashion it was a thinly-veiled excuse to talk & this escalated into actual friendship

they’ve Talked About Shit, ofc, post-war drarry doesn’t work if they haven’t hashed out at least some stuff, so. harry’s told draco about the resurrection stone?

cuz ofc the thing about making an unsolved au in this universe where magic is real is. well. magic is real! (ghosts are real too but let’s just pretend they aren’t. no castle ghosts in this universe. let me have my au fun.)

so as far as harry’s concerned ghosts are a real & true fact of life, they’re a thing, they’re out there, this is just how it is

but draco doesn’t...... entirely agree. like he believes harry saw SOMETHING but cmon, potter, ghosts? GHOSTS??? like this is a fake tumblr post story come on now does he think draco was born yesterday. GHOSTS.

so then while draco is filming a vlog about something else entirely, his woke rich person opinion on the tube strikes probly, harry just wanders in to pick up the latest edition of that argument from two days ago, like “aND ANOTHER THING”

and it devolves into 20 mins of arguing to the point draco refilms his intro & the video is just the arguing. “i DID have a whole other thing but potter! wont let me live!!”

he tends to keep all of harry’s interruptions in (yes ofc harry does this a lot) bc his audience likes them for some damn reason

his audience REALLY likes this one

draco’s completely fine with never discussing it again but then loads of people comment to side with harry & harry gets all smug about it, and draco does a comment response thing that devolves into a very long impassioned rant about the utter lack of PROOF, of ALL THINGS TO BELIEVE IN,

so then somehow theyre filming a fucking. investigation. cuz draco is determined to prove harry wrong. (and also... spend more time with him..... what who said that)

and then that video is INCREDIBLY popular & people STILL KEEP SIDING WITH HARRY so (draco throws his hands in the air) its a series now!

so yes in conclusion: snarky bickering ft ghosts, muggle tech & mutual pining! draco insulting the dead! their audience getting increasingly worried draco has a death wish! whole episodes they can’t upload cuz they just straight up entirely forgot the statue of secrecy!

and they don’t have a crew either cuz they’re #amateurs so. hotel rooms with only one bed! going out for dinner & everyone assuming they’re already dating! half the new audience assuming they’re dating! they do a postmortem type thing and half the questions are ‘you were both in this shot who tf held the camera’ & the other half are ‘ok but really when are you gonna kiss’!

aaaand then eventually they fucking. catch a ghost on camera, cuz ghosts are actually fucking real, & draco has to admit that he’s lowkey believed all along he just really likes arguing with harry & then it kinda escalated &, um, he really enjoys it just being the two of them, er, and he’s like bright red and not looking at harry at all while every confusing joke ron & hermione have made over the last year is playing back thru harry’s mind making a whole lot more sense

and then they kiss! and harry moves in with draco! and they start another series about unsolved true crime that lowkey turns into them just solving these crimes and they get a fucking. wizard netflix deal probably. and they live happily ever after the end

#this is nearly 750 words long whoops #i made a whole thread on twitter last night and only just now in typing it up to here #did i realise ghosts are actually properly real in hp #like not just the stone they're there. They're There.#so this is. au where ghosts are lowkey?#still out there but. yknow. not wandering round hogwarts hosting parties #i just want an excuse for drarry pining okay leave me alone #harry potter #drarry #what the shit is my original posts tag #this is a jkr hate blog #pretentious writing tag oh yeah #reblog this thanks #im proud of it

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rposervices · 5 years

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Real Estate, Recruiting and Sourcing: A Love Story of Sorts

“building out a mass of maybes does not a hire make.” There are more than a few parallels between recruiting and real estate. No, this isn’t a diatribe about how candidates are like houses. They’re not, and frankly, we might all benefit from a little more emphasis on the human factor, but that’s a topic for another time. Instead, let’s look at recruiting and real estate as they exist now. Both disciplines go back hundreds, if not, thousands of years, ever since the dawn of the modern civilization. People needing housing looked to a landlord or real estate agent to find a dwelling. People needing workers looked to a recruiter to help them make qualified hires. As both industries evolved, this thinking became more sophisticated and nuanced, requiring sharply honed skills along with an intimate knowledge of local markets. Then the internet showed up, and suddenly everyone became expert. Except that’s not exactly what happened, is it? Quite the opposite. We need recruiters and real estate agents now more than ever, and with them, all the knowledge that comes from doing the legwork, particularly around sourcing. Acknowledging Value Look, anyone can go online and root around to try and find potential candidates (or property to keep the real estate analogy going). But building out a mass of maybes does not a hire make. Not to mention that in today’s job market, there aren’t that many people actively looking. As Human Resource Executive so aptly put it, “Sourcers are experts at both research and relationship building, finding potential talent from a myriad of sources and networks, and making initial contact with them, all to put them into the pipeline for open jobs.” What we don’t see, or perhaps, don’t recognize, is how much value sourcing brings to the table. The work gets done early on in the process, conducted by lesser-seen resources out there carefully crafting lengthy Boolean strings. It doesn’t necessarily command the grit and glory of later stages in the lifecycle like the interview, or the pomp and circumstance around an accepted offer. Yet, without strong sourcing, where would we be? Most likely, listlessly knocking on the doors of candidates uninterested in letting us in to view their home, let alone consider selling (there it is again). Identifying Opportunity So, with the case made, how do we fully incorporate sourcing into recruiting, and ensure that the two functions remain intertwined? Well, for one, there’s another variable in the process: the hiring manager. Often cast as the big bad wolf of talent acquisition, hiring managers run the gamut from boor to boon and everywhere in between. We spend hours brainstorming ways to improve the relationship, eager to distill the right information at the get-go to improve outcomes. What if we put that same level of energy into sourcing? Says sourcing expert Steve Levy, “To say most programs are suboptimal would be kind. They are laden with opportunities to exclude someone at every step of the process.” Choosing to combine resources into one powerful team rather than separate entities and lament the lack of cohesion across the process. To make this a reality, we need to invite sourcers into the conversation earlier on, soliciting their feedback before attempting to cull candidates and curry favor based solely on the hiring manager’s guidance. In doing so, we open up communication, allowing the free flow of knowledge between stakeholders. Closing the Gap Going back to real estate for a moment. What we’re trying to achieve here is a quick closing. One that unites the buyers, sellers, agents, mortgage brokers and lawyers as painlessly as possible. Anyone who’s ever bought or sold a home knows how intense the process is, and why wouldn’t it be, you’re signing up to own a building for the foreseeable future. Landing a job doesn’t require the same level of commitment, but it’s still a huge decision and one that involves navigating a series of stages and systems. Here’s where technology comes into play because, without it, there would be no sourcing. To make collaboration possible, you’re going to need to integrate your sourcing solutions, or at the very least, make it easy for sourcers to upload information from their various … sources. Once you’ve got this in place, start keeping track of sourcing channels, and measuring the effectiveness of each. Talk to the sourcing team about their outreach, conversations, and, ultimately, conversions. Walkthrough their approach, like you would an open house, and get a feel for how the sourcing happens. Having this understanding will reinforce your overall recruiting function by keeping everyone aligned and informed without having to post a sign on the lawn. Editors Note: Any chance we get to tie in “The Office” we take it. A love story, Jim and Pam, recruiting and sourcing, a stretch? If you want to see how we tackle this topic register now for our upcoming webinar linked below. If you can’t make it, don’t worry, you can watch it on-demand anytime after. Link: https://recruitingwebinars.com/bridging-the-gap-between-sourcing-recruiting Read the full article

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greywindys · 7 years

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Ficpost!

Okay…this STARTED as a drabble. I wanted to play around with some ideas I had expressed in some text posts awhile back but since I’m incapable of writing anything short it mutated into this big thing. This takes place during phase four, starting in the weeks leading up to the live interview on April 20th and then goes beyond that. I also went with the assumption that they’re currently living in the Spirit House in Detroit.

Genre: Slice-of-life? Maybe fluff? Definitely kinda cheesy. No ships, though there *is* tentative 2Doc friendship which I’ll warn for to be safe.

Rating: PG for language

Summary/preview: After everything he’d been through, Murdoc had come to expect a certain level of unpredictability in his daily routine. What he didn’t count on, however, was that it would come in the form of 2D casually deciding to use his phone to record videos of him while he was rummaging through the refrigerator.

Word count: around 7700

Having made his way from the most sordid of neighborhoods in Stoke-on-Trent to the haunted halls of Kong Studios, and finally to the even more haunted Detroit “fixer-upper” the band had so wisely purchased for “inspiration” (Or, as Russel had described,“returning to their roots”), Murdoc had come to expect a certain level of unpredictability in his daily routine. What he didn’t count on, however, was that it would come in the form of 2D casually deciding to use his phone to record videos of him while he was rummaging through the refrigerator.

At first, he blamed his hangover. He knew he shouldn’t have accepted that bottle from that overly friendly homeless man he had met behind the bar last night. There was no telling what that potent concoction had been spiked with - no one was that happy. And now he was paying the price. Hallucinations. Great. It wasn’t until he purposefully decided to leave the refrigerator door open to watch 2D, far too focused on his phone screen, walk directly into it that he realized that everything that he witnessed so far was indeed real.

“Oh, uh, hi, Murdoc.” 2D said as he struggled to regain his balance. He looked at the refrigerator door and then back at Murdoc. “Be careful you don’t walk into the door here. Looks like someone left it open.”

“You want to to tell me what the hell you’re doing?”

“Well, if you could just kindly, um, go back to what you were doing so I could finish the video I think you would understand…”

For a moment, they stood silently. 2D seemed content completely ignore Murdoc’s initial question and wait patiently for him comply while Murdoc continued to stare at the singer as if he had just grown a second head.

2D was the one to act first. Slowly, he held up his phone again and cleared his throat. “So it seems we’ve caught Murdoc at a bad time. You see, he may put on this big, tough act in public, but actually startles very easily. The next appropriate step to take here is to put on a calming metal record…but not Mudvayne. Murdoc once tried to learn one of bass lines off of their first record and it was too difficult for him. Anything but Mudvayne.”

That did it.

“You idiot! Give me that!” Murdoc lunged. He didn’t know if it was more towards the phone or 2D but in any case, he had had enough of whatever 2D was doing.

Surprisingly, 2D made use of the refrigerator door and kicked it so that it was wide open again. This time, it was Murdoc’s turn to collide with the door.

“He’s very angry right now. Sounds might not work,” 2D said to the phone as he began a clumsy retreat back to his room. He continued to aim the camera in Murdoc’s direction as he walked backwards. Looking up from the screen at Murdoc, he pleaded, “Murdoc, this is all one shot and if you keep making me break character it’s going to be ruined.”

“What’s going to be ruined?!” Murdoc was fuming.

“He’s talking about the Youtube channel.”

Murdoc turned in the direction of the couch and saw Russel lounging on the couch, idly flipping through the latest issue of National Geographic. How long had he been sitting there?

“Oh please. You’ve all gone completely mental if you think I’m going to let 2D upload any of his home video projects onto my playlist.”

“Not your Youtube channel. 2D’s Youtube channel,” Russel said, not even bothering to look up.

Murdoc blinked. “2D’s what?”

“You know that journal I’ve been keeping for my therapist?” 2D explained. “Well, she’s been reading it and saying, ‘2D, you’re really funny,’ and so I started thinking, yeah, you know, I am really funny. And so I start thinking, why not instead of journal journal, I uh, keep a sort of video journal? And she says, ‘that’s a great idea, 2D, a great way to be the captain of your own boat; have a project that emphasizes your strengths and helps you focus on yourself just like we’ve been working on.”

“And you’re going to achieve that by filming me?”Murdoc replied sarcastically.

“It won’t be just you,” Russel added. “We thought it might make a good addition to the app if it included some more personal accounts from the band, like a video blog. And 2d’s a funny guy, y’know? He always keeps it positive and has a…unique perspective on us, so we thought he might be a good choice to narrate. He would be filming segments on Noodle and I as well.”

“We haven’t quite settled on a name yet. Management seems to like ‘2D’s Guide to Gorillaz’ but I like something a little more personal like, ‘2Day with 2D,’” 2D said with the same, obliviously cheerful expression on his face that he always had whenever he thought he had a great idea. “And I’ll finally be able to have my own catch phrase. It could be something like a pun, like, ‘it’s another great day 2D with you.’ Heh. Get it?”

Murdoc shot him a scathing glare in response. “And who’s ‘we’? The last meeting I attended we decided that Noodle would get the Instagram, you, Russ, would get a radio show, 2D would go on Dancing with the Stars to help us broaden out audience and I would get the Youtube channel. ME.” He motioned towards himself. “Are you trying to say you lot had a meeting behind my back?”

Russel sighed. “Of course we were gonna run it by you before anything was made official but we thought you would be more receptive if we had some actual samples for you to watch rather than just ideas. And besides, think about it, Muds. You have a grand total of one video up for what’s going on a month now, and the only reason that one’s up is because Noodle helped you.”

“For the record, I added that video myself,” Murdoc retorted. “And the fans loved it. It ignite an unprecedented level of intellectual discussion and speculation we only could’ve dreamed about one our last two albums. And there’s a lot more where that came from, too. But you can’t rush genius, Russ.”

In reality, he hated the Youtube channel. Initially he had volunteered for it because of a complaint he heard from Russel about how the site had devolved into a cesspool of people who were obsessed with themselves. It sounded perfect for him! But soon he found himself hating it too. He hated how they tracked his searches, he hated confusing the layout was (to him,at least) and he hated how, yes, Noodle had to help him sometimes. But he would be damned if he let 2D usurp him like this.

“And I was also thinking, Murdoc, that I could structure your segments like a sort of mini-documentary.” 2D said. Clearly, he had remained checked out of whatever Murdoc and Russel were talking about and remained in planning mode. “I was talking to Jim in advertising and he said I knew so much about you that I sounded like some sort of Murdoc whisperer, you know, like Cesar Milan? And then I thought, yeah, we could call it something like that, or like…Murdocumentary. Ha ha. Get it?”

Unluckily for him, all it did was remind Murdoc that he was still in the room.

“This was all your idea wasn’t it?” Murdoc said, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. He had always had difficulty telling whether 2D said things because he genuinely thought they were helpful additions or because he deliberately wanted pick at him. Today, he wasn’t going to take any chances. “If I see even one second of any that video uploaded anywhere you can-”

“Hey, Murdoc,” Russel said, his tone warning Murdoc to back off. “Chill. If you’re feeling some type of way about it we can think of something else.”

“Yeah,” 2D said. “If you’re worried my playlist might be more popular or something I can think of something else.”

“You damn well better.” Murdoc crossed his arms and continued to glare in the singer’s direction.

But it wasn’t just that. What was bothering Murdoc more than he wanted to admit to himself was being left out. Murdoc didn’t like being left out of plans that related to the band. He was the leader! And on top of that was the persistent suspicion that 2D was trying to push him into a situation where strangers would be laughing at him. Maybe his band mates didn’t know everything about him but he thought they at least understood that he hated being the butt of a joke. The fact that the project was even being considered and 2D had apparently masterminded it all was too much.

“This week in the life of Gorillaz: Two grown men can’t share a Youtube channel,” Russel said sarcastically.

2D chuckled.

“You know what? If that’s how you’re going to be about it then I’m not even going to bother,” Murdoc grumbled. Understanding that there wasn’t much he could to exact his revenge in the moment he turned to leave, pausing only to send one final death glare in 2D’s direction. “And you! Don’t think for a second that this is over.”

And with that, he stormed off.

Moving on to a new idea turned out to be very easy for 2D. The next day he approached Murdoc to tell him that instead, he was going to put all his focus into developing his own business producing luxury friendship bracelets, and maybe one could be included in every pre-order of the new album. Murdoc had answered with a “whatever” and given him a thumbs up, 2D had grinned and to any outside observer it looked like their conflict from earlier in the week had been resolved.

However, when Murdoc declared something to be “not over,” he tended to make good on that promise. Being part of a famous band helped as the amount of excess income at his disposal provided him with few limits on just how elaborate a particular scheme could become.

By typical Murdoc standards, this scheme in particular was relatively cheap. All he had needed was a spare phone, some spare time and some good, old-fashioned story-telling.

Never before had be been so thankful that witnessing a robot decapitation in real time would be so difficult for 2D to accept as a believable cause of death for a robot. Now, Murdoc could gleefully use that weakness against him. That ought to show him. Maybe next time he would think twice before plotting behind Murdoc’s back. If all went well, Murdoc anticipated that he would get to laugh about this in interviews for years to come.

Not wanting to wait a second longer, Murdoc grabbed the spare phone, and, with a maniacal grin entered 2D’s number and started a message. He could hardly contain his laughter as he typed. Hello, 2D. It is me. Cyborg Noodle.

Then he hit send and set the phone aside, cackling loudly (being the one with the only bedroom on the top floor had its perks.) No sooner had he reached for the bottle of vodka on his nightstand than the phone pinged again. And again. And again. And again.

Eager to read the singer’s reaction, Murdoc grabbed the phone again and read through the messages. They were all questions. 2D wanted to know how he could be sure it was really Cyborg Noodle, how she had escaped Plastic Beach, where she was now, how she was doing and if they could meet up sometime to catch up.

Bingo.

Now he needed additional “evidence” to back up his claim. Pulling his laptop from under his bed, he opened up Instragram. He had watched Noodle use the band account enough to know how to upload a picture. He named the new account “CyborgNoodle123.” Next, he opened MS Paint and cut and paste a picture of Cyborg Noodle onto a picture of the Lincolnshire Christmas market which he had found through a Google image search.

Turning his attention back to the phone, he entered the URL and typed. This is me spreading Christmas cheer at the Lincoln Christmas market. I live a quiet life…Murdoc paused, thinking about how he would proceed. And then it came to him. I live a quiet life in Lincolnshire with an elderly sheep farmer in the Carrs. I have taken up cycling. I ride my bicycle to the local bakery every morning. It makes me feel alive.

He reached for a half empty bottle of vodka that sat on his nightstand and took a long drink, a smug grin on his face. 2D was falling for it hook, line and sinker. He was a genius. This would be a good way to end the night.

Murdoc was still in the midst of mentally patting himself on the back and admiring his handiwork when suddenly, 2D burst through his door.

“Murdoc! Murdoc you’ve got to look at this!” 2D was waving his phone frantically as he ran towards him, a wide smile on his face. Seeing Murdoc jump in surprise and nearly fall off the bed didn’t phase him in the slightest. “It’s…it’s her! It’s really her.”

“The fuck are you doing?!? What did I tell you about barging into my room without knocking on the bloody door first?!?” Murdoc yelled as he slammed his laptop shut and promptly concealed it under as many blankets as he could.

“You won’t believe this but your robot, Cyborg Noodle…”

“I know, I know. The robot I built that Noodle decapitated.”

“Yes! I mean…no! No she’s not decapitated, she’s alive! And I’ve been texting with her.” 2D thrust his phone screen Murdoc’s face. “This is her spreading, uh, Christmas cheer at a market in Lincolnshire.”

Murdoc could feel himself shaking from excitement and half-hearted attempts to appear genuinely surprised. How could it be so easy? Even as he did his best to feign surprise his words came out intermittently between sniggers. “Is that….so?…Um…no…way! Didn’t…see..that one…coming.”

“Yeah,” 2D said as turned the screen back towards himself. He stared at it lovingly, oblivious to Murdoc’s near hysterics. “And..isn’t it kinda funny how she chose to contact me before you? Probably did because I was the only one who still believed she was alive.” He laughed lightly and the paused, clearly rethinking his previous jab. “But I wouldn’t think anything of it. She said her microcontroller was damaged by seawater so I’m sure she just forgot - let’s, uh, let’s send her something right now. I’m sure you have so many questions.”

That made Murdoc pull himself together. He had forgotten that the phone was still sitting on his bed. Immediately he laid down on top of it. “Actually, mate, let’s…let’s not. All the promotional tweets I sent today have left me completely knackered. So I’m just going to go to sleep now. Okay?” And without waiting for 2D’s response, he pulled the cover over his head. “Goodnight.”

“But..But, Murdoc,” 2D’s voice pleaded. “It’s Cyborg Noodle. She was your creation? Don’t you want to ask her how she’s been?”

“Of course, of course! Um…how about..tell her I said hi. Yeah. Sound good? Now get out.”

“We should see if she wants to get to-”

“Out!”

“Okay, okay!” 2D sounded slightly dejected. “‘Night, Murdoc.”

Murdoc waited until he heard his door closed before he opened the phone again and changed the setting to silent. Then he settled into bed and continued to plot.

Murdoc did not expect 2D to be such an avid texter. Not being much of a phone person himself, it wasn’t something he engaged the singer in very often. However, as Cyborg Noodle, Murdoc found himself chatting with 2D every few hours. In some ways it was mildly annoying- for example, 2D would send texts in the middle of the night asking about non urgent things like which pair of socks he should wear the next day- but it also enabled Murdoc to develop his story.

In a short time, Murdoc, as Cyborg Noodle, was able to convince 2D to keep their correspondence a secret lest he wanted the real Noodle to hunt her down and destroy her for real this time. He also established what he thought was a riveting backstory- that Cyborg had joined up with a pirate crew before getting capsized by cyclone in the Bermuda Triangle leaving her stranded in Puerto Rico for a few years where she worked briefly at a wildlife sanctuary for cave rats.

But as funny as 2D simply believing that he was talking to the real Cyborg Noodle was, Murdoc was incapable of not taking things at least three times as far and the needed to go. If 2D had been plotting to make a laughing stock of him, then Murdoc was going to get back at him twofold. The singer had been asking to visit with Cyborg, and if that’s what he wanted, that’s what he would get. It was time for them to “meet up.”

“I don’t quite get it,” 2D said, squinting at his phone screen as they sat at the kitchen table one afternoon. “I entered what she said in google maps and it looks like it’s in the middle of an empty parking lot.”

“Hmm.” Murdoc leisurely held the newspaper up so that it would cover his face. “I don’t know, mate. Maybe she wants to, uh, show you some of the sick cycling tricks she’s learned in Lincolnshire.”

“But then why is telling me to show up dressed like I’m going to a pool party? She’s also saying that in order for her to know that it’s safe to come out, I have to do the hokey pokey three times, or until I figure out what it’s really all about, and then howl at the moon until I see her.”

Murdoc snorted, doubling over as he tried to maintain the appearance of calmly reading.

“Are you alright there, Murdoc?”

Murdoc straightened his back and cleared his throat in an attempt to compose himself. “Who, me? Never been better”

“You sure you don’t want to come with?”

“I thought we already went over this. My schedule’s booked up indefinitely while we get everything in place for that live interview they’ve got scheduled for us later this week. Then I have a busy night a reading my fanmail after that. It’s just not going to work out.”

2D persisted, “But I know she would be happy to see you again, and you wouldn’t believe what she’s been up to.”

“So you’ve told me.”

“She gives really great advice, too.”

That comment made Murdoc grin a self-satisfied grin. He had always considered himself to be the wisest in the band but was always met with scoffs and sarcasm. Now that he was applying his talents as Cyborg Noodle, however, he was finally getting the recognition he deserved. Murdoc had discussed variety of topics with 2D as Cyborg Noodle including philosophy, where they saw the world going in the next twenty years, the purpose of humanity and more. 2D has also confided in Cyborg about his feelings about being in the band and even Murdoc himself, which he would try to sidestep as gracefully as possible.

“And we could pick some Belgian crepes from that ice water place on the way.” 2D still hadn’t given up.

“Look, I’m glad you’ve found yourself a great pen pal and all, but I’ve got better things to do. You better get going though, I’d wager Noodle’s set to be getting home from zumba any minute now.”

2D’s eyes widened and he quickly began to gather his things. “You’re right- I almost lost track of the time.”

“Tell me how it goes,” Murdoc called after him as he headed for the door.

After he was sure 2D was completely off the premises and that he was completely alone, he allowed himself some time for another round fully uninhibited laughter.

Murdoc spent the next few days having the time of his life. In addition to the parking lot, he also sent 2D to meet Cyborg Noodle in a sewer for a “drum circle” and on the roof of their neighbor’s house which nearly got him arrested. Of course, Cyborg Noodle never actually showed up and Murdoc would then text 2D as her later providing a vague explanation of why she could be there. And 2D fell for it every time.

What Murdoc didn’t keep track of, however, was just how much 2D actually believed he was talking to Cyborg Noodle.

“We have to help her, Murdoc. I think there’s something terribly wrong. She must be in some kind of trouble,” 2D said as he got his mic hooked up. “I waited in the parking lot for six hours on the roof last night and all she told me was that she was okay. But I don’t think she is. Something keeps stopping her from coming out of hiding. You didn’t program her to be this unreliable.”

“She’s told you she was coming to the states for vacation, maybe she wants you to leave her alone. She doesn’t have time for whatever inane prattle you were sending her.” It was true. Murdoc had already answered around twenty messages that morning. Some of them were spent reiterating to 2D that Cyborg Noodle had a busy vacation schedule and but the rest were just one word responses to 2D as he talked about a new brand of hummus he had tried the other day. “Besides, we’re on for this interview in ten, so all this rescue mission talk is going to have to wait.”

“That’s it, Murdoc!” 2D turned to him suddenly, excited. “The interview! I know we already picked out questions but we could slip in a question about her during the interview!”

Murdoc froze. “Ummm, 2D,” he stammered out nervously, “Remember what she told you about sharing this with others…”

Suddenly it dawned on him that he had never established a set timeline to determine when the joke was supposed to end. Was the ultimate goal to tell 2D on live television and laugh at him for being so gullible? Murdoc wasn’t sure he wanted to do that. But why not? He thought to himself. What did he care if 2D learned his new best friend wasn’t actually real in front of hundreds of thousands of fans?

“No, no, it’ll be okay. We can use, the, uh, the bystander effect. You know, the thing where the more people know something’s wrong, the more likely it is that someone will help!”

“Actually, it’s the other way aroun-”

2D was out of his chair and talking to the producer before Murdoc could finish his sentence.

Immediately, Murdoc made a frantic attempt to run over there himself but was quickly intercepted and ushered towards the interview room. From across the room, 2D gave him a thumbs up, mouthing to him that “it was all going to be alright now.” Murdoc responded by motioning frenetically with his hands to him to stop, but by that time, 2D was no longer paying attention to him. Well, Muds, he thought to himself, looks like you really fucked this one up.

Needless to say, the car ride home did not go well.

“I can’t believe you’d still call yourself her friend,” Murdoc snapped. “Now everyone in the whole bloody world knows where she lives including Noodle. A lot of good that will do!”

In reality, he was more angry at himself for not putting an end to the whole joke sooner. Now, he would be stuck not only having to explain himself to the rest of his band, but to fans as well. Murdoc did not like having his pranks known about as they were happening because now, the spin was out of his control. All he had wanted was a good laugh that he could then use as a fun party story where he dictated the narrative. 2D had unknowingly thwarted that.

“It’s going to do a lot of good!” 2D countered. “I’ve already gotten some messages from people who want to actually want help, unlike you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Murdoc grumbled back as he parked the car.

“It means that you’ve known about her since she started talking to me and anytime I invite you to talk to her or come with me to meet her, you always have something better to do as if she didn’t spend years working for you and helping you work on the last album.”

“She’s a robot, 2D.”

“No, Murdoc, she’s your robot. And she’s in trouble. She helped you when you were in trouble. So why are you acting like she never existed? You can’t just forget about her like that.”

Murdoc sighed. Maybe now was the time to tell him.

“You know, D, there’s actually a reason for that…” He trailed off, picking at his keys. This was harder than he thought. When he had started texting him, he remembered looking forward to the day he revealed himself. In the current moment, however, it didn’t feel so good and Murdoc was frustrated in searching for why exactly that was. He usually prioritized his feeling’s over 2D’s, and this reveal was supposed to be funny. So what was holding him back?

“See here,” 2D had moved on to the messages in his inbox. “There these two blokes from MTV who specialize in helping people who have online friendships. The show is called Catfish and they’re saying they can find out where she is with no problem.” He held up his phone and tapped on the screen where the message began “And we were thinking of partnering with MTV anyway, right? I think this could be good. We could use our episode to show Noodle that there can be room for more that one guitarist.”

“NO!”

“No?”

“Yes, no. I mean, 2D, mate, I think, you’re getting a little ahead of yourself here.” Internally Murdoc was berating himself relentlessly for everything he did, or in this case, didn’t do up until the interview, as well what a pathetic job he was doing at masking the uncertainty in his voice. “We don’t need MTV, in fact, we don’t need anybody because this is just some stupid-”

He was interrupted by a tap on the window behind him. It was Russel. He was gesturing enthusiastically towards what looked to be some takeout bags that he was holding up to the window.

“Picked up some Thai from the new place downtown,” he said. “Wanna bite? Consider this my way of saying that everything’s cool and sorry about interrupting your interview.”

“Oh look, Murdoc, Russel bought us dinner.”

This was too out of control.

“Oh, fuck it!” Murdoc explained as he got out of the car and slammed the door.

“Are you sure you don’t want to try some of the food Russ has got us? Murdoc?”

“What’s gotten into him?” He heard Russel ask 2D as he walked away.

“I dunno. Maybe he’s allergic…”

Without looking back Murdoc flipped both of them off and retreated to his room. He could only hope that 2D wouldn’t do anything more to publicize the story and that he had been distracting enough during the live interview that maybe the fanbase would forget Cyborg Noodle was even mentioned.

He devoted part of the evening to reviewing his options. It was either come tell 2D the truth in private or allow 2D to find out the truth on national television. As he polished off his first bottle of rum Murdoc frowned. Both options involved telling 2D and that was what he wanted to avoid. Why? He asked himself again. The whole point of the prank in the first place was to tell 2D but now all he got was a nauseous feeling in his stomach when he thought about it.

In the meantime his spare phone had been lighting up with messages from 2D asking a long line of questions.

I’m okay. He typed back, not bothering to read them all. I’m okay, he thought in his head, trying to convince himself. I’m okay, I’m okay. It wasn’t working.

Then it came to him. He would have just have to prepare. 2D could get them an episode of Catfish if he wanted to, Murdoc could fake his way through that easily. Then, he would have Cyborg Noodle go on a pilgrimage to some rural village in India and then she would disappear. All he needed were some more pictures for her Instragram.

The rest of the night found him in a frenzied cycle of editing pictures, drinking and texting with 2D as the singer wondered to Cyborg why Murdoc had been acting so strange. Murdoc hardly remembered his replies.

He hadn’t even noticed that he had fallen asleep until he felt the hand on his shoulder shaking him awake.

“Thought I told you not t’come in my room without knocking…” He slurred.

“Well we have a meeting with the team in less than an hour and you were nowhere to be found,” came the exasperated reply. “What were you doing all night with all these old picture of Cyborg Noodle up in MS Paint?”

It was Noodle.

Murdoc shot up and reached for his laptop. He instantly regretted that decision as his headache set in. Still, he would have to try to explain himself. “S’not what it looks like! I was, um, I was making, um, flyers?”

Noodle was looking at the screen with an amused look on her face as she sat down next to him. “So this is why 2D has been glaring at me every night at dinner. Murdoc, what exactly were you trying to accomplish with this?”

“He started it with his stupid video blog idea! But now he’s gone and got us an episode of Catfish and I’m going to be found out on national television!”

Noodle chuckled. “Well, you should probably tell him then.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

Murdoc thought. He thought back to some of their exchanges where 2D had expressed how he happy he was to have someone to talk to and how much he appreciated the advice Cyborg Noodle gave. He thought back to the long conversation they had about him, and how 2D had seemed genuinely interested in learning what he could do to make Murdoc feel better.

“It’s just….” Murdoc didn’t know how to finish. “It’s just…” There was no way he was actually feeling this way. “It’s just that he’s so connected. He really believes it’s her and talks to her every day, she’s…she’s like his best mate!”

Noodle shook her head, smiling. “All he was doing was talking to you, Murdoc. You’re his best mate. Or, you were his best mate, at some point.”

Murdoc felt his heart start to race. “Nuh uh, no. That’s completely mental.”

“I know, right?” Noodle looked at him knowingly. “You’ve certainly done a pretty poor job of that. But this crisis you’re having right now? That’s a good sign.”

“How could any of this be a good sign?”

“Well, what are you feeling right now?”

“Like it’s time for a pint.” Murdoc looked around the room. He knew there had to be another bottle of something around somewhere. “And like there’s a little man with a hammer trying to bulldoze his way out my skull.”

“You know what I mean,” Noodle said as she gently pulled the laptop into her lap and began to scroll. “Last time you went to a therapy appointment with 2D she told you that you need to start expanding your feeling word vocabulary so you can verbalize your emotions more easily. Like ‘happy’ or ‘sad.’” She studied the screen intently before chuckling again. “I don’t even understand how you fooled him. These pictures aren’t even fully transparent.”

“Beats me.”

Closing the laptop, Noodle turned to him. “Well whatever the case, you need to sort out what it is that your feeling and make a decision about what you want to do.”

Murdoc groaned in response.

“I’ll leave you with two things. One, you know that if Russel and I had our way, we wouldn’t be a band anymore, but we’re respecting the fact that you and 2D still have issues you need to work through so we’re giving this another shot.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” Murdoc rubbed his temple as he thought. “I feel…I feel…”

“Upset because 2D will be upset when he finds out?”

“No!…I mean…I don’t know. I feel. That’s all. I just feel.” And so far, he didn’t like the sensation one bit.

“And that’s not a bad thing. It’s not bad to feel, Murdoc. I think sharing that with him would actually mean a lot.”

“But…”

Thoughts race through Murdoc’s head. But what if he never wanted to talk to him again? What if he fell into a depressive episode? But none of that felt safe to say. Noodle would probably think he was being stupid or she would go and tell everyone.

“But what if he’s gets so peeved he doesn’t want to be in the band anymore?” Yeah, he would go with that.

“Well, I can’t answer that for him. It’s something you’re just going to have to accept as a possible outcome…if you decide to tell him,” Noodle said as she got up to leave. “But anyways, the second thing was that our meeting is in fifteen minutes so unless you want to be left out of planning again you ought to get yourself up.”

She left Murdoc still buried in blankets to stew over his options. He surveyed his bed, eyes scanning over the phone, the laptop, the empty bottle of liquor. Slowly he sat up and exhaled sharply. It was all a huge mess. All of it. And now he was the one who was going to have to fix it.

A few days later, Murdoc found 2D in the backyard disassembling one of his keyboards. Stopping just short of where the singer sat he sat, not appreciating the how anxious their impending interaction was making him. Usually, Murdoc tried to avoid these types of situations whenever possible because the way they made his thoughts race and his heart pound made it nearly impossible to get a word out. He was in the process of trying to string together a simple greeting but then settled on clearing his throat awkwardly.

2D turned.

“Oh, um, hey, Murdoc,” 2D said. The expression on his face was warm, but the intensity of his gaze was another story.

Murdoc instantly regretted seeking him out while he was working. 2D on a day-to-day basis was always a little bit spaced out, lacked an adequate fight or flight response and was all around pleasant. 2D in work mode was an entirely different animal. When 2D was fully concentrating, his sense of observation was, as far as Murdoc knew, unrivaled and he could pick out any tiny detail or idiosyncrasy in whatever person or object was the target of his focus. It worked well for when Murdoc wanted him to customize an instrument, pick out what a new song they were working on was missing or woo fans, but when Murdoc himself was the subject it did nothing but make him feel…Makes me feel? He searched for the “feeling word.” Vulnerable. Yeah, that sounded right.

“Are you alright?” 2D’s voice ushered him back to the moment. “You look like you’re going to be ill.”He paused tapping the screwdriver he was using idly against the keyboard. “But that would make sense. That chicken Russel made for dinner looked well, you know, a little, uh, under-cooked which…isn’t quite like him to overlook but we can’t all be perfect…”

“It’s not that,”Murdoc blurted out. “We, uh….we need to talk.”

He was too nervous to look 2D right in the eye and instead focused on badly drawn graffiti that decorated the side of the house.

“You want to, um, oh I don’t know…swing downtown for some crepes?”

2D pondered the request briefly before replying, “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

The car ride over contained little conversation. It mostly consisted of 2D flipping through the radio to find different songs to sing along to and Murdoc staring straight ahead at the road, knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel so hard in an attempt to maintain his composure.

When they arrived, Murdoc was relieved to find the shop relatively empty. 2D capitalized on the short line by ordering not one but three crepes with every topping available. Murdoc opted for one. He wasn’t even sure he could trust himself to eat that.

“So, uh, 2D, mate, um,” he said as he watched the singer shovel scoop after scoop of the pastry into his mouth. “You know how you’ve been talking to Cyborg Noodle lately?”

“Oh yeah, Cyborg. She was telling me she flew back to Lincolnshire and may not be in touch for awhile.”

Murdoc stared down at his plate, moving it around with his fork as he continued, “Yeah. About that. Um, how would you feel if she was, um….not who you thought she was.”

2D looked puzzled. “What do you mean? Why would she be anyone other than herself?”

“Because….” Just spit it out you spineless coward, he internally berated himself. “Because…”

“Because?”

“Becauseitwasallme.Iwasheranditwasallsupposedtobeajoke. There!” Murdoc then scooped as much of his crepe off the plate as his fork would allow and shoved it into his mouth; anything to avoid being completely still.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw 2D’s face slowly go from inquisitive to shocked. This was soon followed by a loud clang of his fork hitting the table as it fell from his hand.

“You mean…it was all a lie? You were lying to me?” 2D’s tone was heavy with hurt and betrayal. Murdoc could see the crestfallen expression on his face as he leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

Murdoc gulped, suddenly feeling like everyone in the shop was watching him, accusing him. He was angry at himself, too, for choosing to eat some of his crepe because now he was feeling even more nauseous than before.

“It’s not, no, I didn’t meant, well…” He threw his hands out in exasperation. “How was I supposed to know you were going to believe it THAT much? And it’s not like it would have even happened in the first place if you hadn’t-“ He stopped.

Murdoc hadn’t looked directly over to 2D in a few minutes, and initially he thought the singer was crying. Or maybe he had gone into shock. Or maybe he had his fork and was going to jump across the table to attack him.

As he placed his full attention on him, he was slightly disturbed to realize that it was actually the opposite. 2D was laughing.

“Wait, what?”

2D didn’t answer him at first. Instead, he went through multiple cycles which consisted of laughing and eating his ice cream, regaining his composure and losing it again when he tried to look at Murdoc.

“What the hell has gotten into you? Have you lost your bloody mind?” Murdoc asked again, now slightly annoyed. “You have one minute to answer me before I call in an emergency hospital petition and-”

“Oh, Murdoc.” 2D shook his head as he tried to catch his breath. “I’ve know it was you for some time now.”

“You what?” Murdoc was flabbergasted. “You…you knew? And you didn’t tell me?”

2D snorted. “You really thought I was crying didn’t you?”

“When did you find out? How?”

“Well, I guess, officially the last day or so. The last long conversation I had with Cyborg Noodle, where I was telling her I was worried about you, she replied ‘I’m okay,’ and I thought, ‘that’s weird, I was just talking about Murdoc not her.’ Then whenever I opened family sharing I could see that all Cyborg Noodle was actually at our house…all the time.”

Murdoc looked at him, perplexed. How drunk had he been that night? How did 2D know what family sharing was? What was family sharing?

“I’m on my phone a lot, you see,” 2D answered, as if reading his mind. “But then again I feel like I always knew in some sort of way. That one night we were talking about horror movies and she sent me a thirty text long tirade about The Wicker Man remake kinda tipped me off too.”

“So wait, you…?” Murdoc pointed at him. Once again, his thought were flowing by faster than he could locate the words. “You knew? But then you didn’t…? And then you…?” Finally he arrived at what he had been building up to saying, sort of. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s okay.” There was warmth in 2D’s voice. “And I, uh, I hope you don’t mind how I had some fun with it at the end; thought you could use a taste of your own medicine. Was my acting convincing?”

“Did I mind?” Murdoc was struggling to compute what exactly was happening. As it stood, 2D had skipped ahead at least two steps of their usual fight and make up cycle. “What..what about you? Aren’t you mad at me for being a unrepentant arse who borders on sociopathy or something?”

“I was a little peeved at first. Do you know how long I waited on the roof that one day? But then I went back and re-read the conversation we had the night of the interview, that one exchange where I talked about how Gorillaz was all you had because whenever we’re not together you end up in jail or about to be murdered or something and you agreed instead of trying praise yourself, and it all made sense…”

“You felt bad for me.” That’s what it sounded like. It made Murdoc feel even more pathetic.

“No, not exactly. It was more like…” 2D looked at him closely, as if he was search for the right word to suddenly manifest on Murdoc’s forehead. “It was more like, surprised, pleasantly surprised…pleasantly surprised that you were the one feeling bad. You were regretting something. ”

“Well, I don’t know if I would go that far.”

“It isn’t anything to ashamed of, Murdoc. I don’t know why you’re treating it that way.”

“I guess…I well…I don’t know. Er, regretting things isn’t exactly my modus operandi, if you, heh, know what I mean.”

Second guessing, self-doubt, regret; they were all emotions that he had been trying to evade or repress since childhood because otherwise, he was sure they would have destroyed him.

“I do.”

Murdoc was not used to hearing the level of empathy that was present in 2D’s voice from anyone. The singer still didn’t know everything about his background, no one did really, yet he found himself completely believing him.

“And if it makes you feel any better,” 2D went on, “I enjoyed talking to Cyborg. You do quite well playing as a dead robot modeled after Noodle. And those photos you put on that fake Instragram of hers were bang on. Yet you still can’t figure out how to upload a video to your Youtube channel…” He grinned a crooked grin, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Once again, Murdoc was left wondering whether 2D was joking with him or insulting him. This time, however, he was grateful for how it helped to alleviate the weight he felt like he had been carrying around for days.

“Oh, ouch, and here I thought we were just starting to be friends again.”

Though he continued to smile, 2D shook his head. “I think we’ve still got some ways to go before that…”

It stung, but it was true.

“But,” 2D said, motioning towards the table and Murdoc. “I think all of this went well. I’m being serious now, Murdoc, you didn’t have to talk to me one on one like this but you did. We’re taking it one day at time like we agreed on when we got back together, and if you asked me now, I’d say it’s going, um, pretty well. I think if we were to think of it in friendship bracelets terms, we’d be at half a bracelet.”

Half a bracelet. Murdoc could work with that.

“Yeah, and if that plot twist you pulled at the end here is any indication it looks like I might even have some competition.”

2D smirked. “Yeah, you might be surprised about that.”

Murdoc took another bite of his crepe. He hadn’t felt hungry in a few days now, and he welcomed the feeling.

“So, uh, not that that’s settled, what are we going to do about Cyborg? In case you forgot, you only announced her existence to our entire fanbase…”

2D shrugged, “I don’t know. Nothing, I guess.”

“Nothing?”

“Well, yeah. Let’s just let her be out there. Y’know…I guess she’ll always be there in some sort of way…even though she’s gone. It wouldn’t be that weird would it? A lot of things do that anyway- staying with us, I mean, even after they’re gone or we’ve moved on. But we can still exist anyways.”

It was dark by the time they walked out to the car. The night sky seemed clearer that it usually was, the artificial light from the city doing little to obscure the stars as they so often did. As he took in the sight, Murdoc mulled over what 2D had said back at the shop. 2D said a lot things that straddled the line between wise and nonsensical, and Murdoc liked to make fun of him for it. This time, however, the singer’s words followed him all the way to the car and lingered in his mind as he sat in the driver’s seat. There was still a lot he was grappling with internally, but he could exist. Sure, there were thoughts, emotions and behaviors involved in existing as a human being that still absolutely terrified him. But the day had proven to him that, even after fifty years of only embracing the parts of himself that he deemed safe, it wasn’t too late. He could still exist, and exist fully, in spite of it all.

And he was feeling the effects of this new attitude as he started up the engine. For example, he no longer felt like he needed to grip the steering wheel in a death grip, and as 2D flipped the radio on, he felt inclined to sing along.

“And, Murdoc…Um, if you don’t want me to tell the others about this, I understand,” 2D said.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t ever had meaningful conversations like the one they had that night. In the past, Murdoc wouldn’t always want the others to know because, well, he was Murdoc and 2D was 2D, and that wasn’t how they were supposed to settle things, or at least that was how Murdoc had reasoned it out in his mind.

Taking in a deep breath, Murdoc shook his head and answered, “I wouldn’t say it matters much either way.” It felt unusually liberating to say that. “But…what you can do is crank that volume up because that song right there happens to be a classic and it would a certified ethics violation to experience it at the volume you’ve got it on now.”

“You got it, mate.”

Then 2D turned the dial up so loud that Murdoc swore he could feel the car shaking. Perfect.

“That’s more like it!” Murdoc yelled as he pulled onto the main road. 2D nodded in response, a wide grin on his face.

It was unclear whether or not he actually understood a word of what Murdoc had said, but in the moment, his nod of encouragement was more than enough. I’m okay, Murdoc thought to himself but now it no longer felt like something was trying to convince himself to believe. Then he placed his foot on the gas and drove.

End.

#ficpost #i realized this could have been a multi chapter fic but i condensed it #i flop at being succinct ah oh well #murdoc

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