#im sleeping on arthur right now sorry king

[veradia]

choose your fighter

[bellamyblakru]

For the adorable cliche prompts 49 & Merthur ❤️

oh my god i am so sorry for how late this is. like im months late. i apologize 😭😭my writing drive has been so shit, but i got the random urge today and i wrote like over 4,000 words in one sitting💀💀 i hope this is okay!!! again, i am so sorry akskksks i hope you like it, my lovely mutual❤️❤️

ill add it under the cut and it is right here on ao3! without further ado, i present: merthur + anxiety + you caught me doing something dangerous and flipped out

Merlin smiled at the servants as he passed them.

One step in front of the other, the warlock smiled on, ignoring the growing blood stain beneath his tunic. He was lightheaded, growing more unsteady as he walked through the darkened halls of the castle. He could make it to his chambers, he knew, if he just willed a bit more magic to staunch the flow of the wound. 

He paused in the middle of an abandoned corridor, leaning his head against the cold stone of the wall as he focused his power. His magic flickered sadly, already working overtime to keep him conscious. But, as always, it answered his call. Merlin felt his magic simmer over the injury as he let out a small breath of relief. 

Straightening up, Merlin stumbled his way into Gaius’s workroom, and he did not collapse until he made it to his small room in the back. 

He stared and stared at the ceiling, wondering if anyone else could feel the world spinning. He figured he should worry about that, but his magic prickled his mind then—reminding him to sleep. 

So, Merlin relented, and he fell instantly into a restless slumber. 

Waking up with a gasp, the warlock shot up in his bed. He narrowed his eyes at the light coming through his window, wondering how on earth he got here. The last thing he remembered was reading the threat against Arthur that was hidden in the king’s letters and thinking how to stop it…but the rest of the day came back blurry. He shook his head. The day needed to start—even if Merlin couldn’t remember what he did the day before, even as that thought slightly terrified him.

He moved to the edge of the bed, swinging his feet over, and he tried to stand up. The minute his feet touched the ground, the room swayed, and he came crashing back onto his cot. Merlin groaned at the searing pain in his abdomen. Lifting his tunic, he gently prodded the bruised area that covered most of his torso. 

His answer was solved, then. He must have found the threat and eradicated it, and this was his gift for doing so. Grimacing, Merlin slowly got to his feet and limped to his mirror. Looking over to his left, the warlock saw some wrapping he could use to cover the damage. Doing so, rather gingerly, he frowned at the ache. His magic usually smoothed away these pain and bruises quickly—it was why a bruise never lasted more than a few hours on him. Shrugging the thought away, however, figuring it must be taking a bit more power than usual, he threw on his purple tunic and plastered a smile on his face. 

By the time Merlin arrived at Arthur’s door with breakfast, a sweat had broken out against his neck and back. Panting a bit, Merlin shoved the wooden door open revealing an already awoken Arthur staring through the window.

“You’re late.” Merlin heard Arthur grumble.

“Yeah, sorry.” Merlin couldn’t think of a lie that suited him, so that’s all he said.

Arthur turned around. “That’s it? ‘Sorry’?”

Merlin grinned. Arthur rolled his eyes, moving to sit at his desk where Merlin dropped off his food. Arthur watched him tidy up the room for a few moments before blurting out: “Let’s go out.” 

Merlin turned around, an eyebrow raised. “Out?”

Merlin swore he saw Arthur’s cheeks redden. The king coughed. “With the knights. You know, like a hunting trip.”

Laughing a bit at Arthur’s rushed sentence, Merlin smiled. “When shall we depart?”

Arthur straightened up, tilting his head to regard his servant. “Today.”

“Okay.” Merlin saw Arthur’s palpable relief at the word, though he couldn’t fathom why. “Is everything alright, Arthur?”

Arthur smiled brightly. “I’m fine, Merlin.” 

The warlock narrowed his eyes. “If you say so.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, Arthur focused on eating and the paperwork in front of him as Merlin started grabbing the laundry thrown about. He hid his flinch as he bent down, stifled the cry wanting to escape his throat as he walked to the dresser. 

He needed to get out of here before Arthur noticed. 

“I’ll go prepare the provisions and tell the knights.” Merlin didn’t hear Arthur's response as he ran out the door, quickly shutting it and leaning against the cool wood. The guards barely blinked at his behavior—they were quite used to oddities at this point. Merlin nodded to them as he continued down the corridor. 

Today was going to be difficult, and he couldn’t imagine it would end well at this rate. 

Forcing his magic to his core, Merlin sent messages to the roundtable and to the kitchen before he found his way back to Gaius’s workroom. He was sat at the table, head in his hands, when Elyan walked into the room. 

“Merlin?”

Merlin shot his head up, regretting it when the room twisted. Blinking, he looked at the knight who somehow was sitting beside him. Merlin saw Elyan’s lips moving, so he tried to focus. 

“—lin, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

Merlin narrowed his spinning focus on Elyan’s concerned eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

Elyan scoffed. “I find that hard to believe, my friend.”

Merlin tried to smile. “I swear. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Elyan’s eyes softened even more. “No, everything is okay. Arthur sent me to fetch you. We are leaving, remember?”

Merlin blinked again. How long have I’ve been out?

“Of course.” Merlin shook his head, a sheepish smile on his face. “I must’ve fallen asleep.”

Elyan narrowed his eyes. “Merlin, you don’t seem well. I don’t want you to hurt yourself more. I’ll tell Arthur you can’t-“

“No, no, I’m okay. I can come.”

That didn’t seem to convince the knight, if the doubtful look on his face was any indication. “Merlin, you are a part of my family, and if you need to stay home, I’ll stay with you. Make sure you get better. Arthur won’t fuss if I make an excuse for us both. Maybe Gwen, you, and I could go on another picnic, yeah?”

Merlin smiled at the memory of their last adventure together. “That does sound tempting, but I am truly okay! Look!” He got up and did a little spin, making Elyan laugh at the dramatics. 

“Okay, okay. I believe you. But don’t think I won’t keep an eye on you, little brother.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Merlin grinned, pulling the knight into a strong hug, his heart feeling more full than it has in a long time. 

“We are leaving in a few moments, I’ll meet you there?”

Merlin nodded, promising to be there on time, and when the knight vanished, as did Merlin’s brief energy. Chiding himself on not taking Elyan’s offer, Merlin forced his legs to stumble into his room to throw some articles into his bag. He double checked his wrappings, and he raced out the door. 

He felt his magic flicker at his movements—it wasn’t pleased to be keeping him conscious and healing at the same time. Sighing through his teeth, he shook his head before smiling brightly at the knights. Elyan rolled his eyes while Gwaine ran up to him and pulled him into a spinning hug.

“It’s been too long, Merls!” Gwaine ruffed his hair when he put him down, a wild grin on his face.

Merlin laughed, swatting away the knight’s hand. “I saw you yesterday!”

Gwaine put his hand on his heart, a fake pout on his face. “You haven’t missed me?”

Merlin nodded, trying to ruffle Gwaine’s hair back, who squealed and ran behind Percy for protection. 

Lance walked towards him with Merlin’s mare in one hand. “How are you Merlin?” Lance whispered so only he could hear. 

Merlin took his horse, stroking her neck. “I’ve been better.”

Lance frowned. “Are you hurt?”

Merlin opened his mouth to lie, but Arthur was already on top of his horse yelling at them to hurry up or they would be left behind. Merlin shrugged his shoulders to Lance, who narrowed his eyes, but they both hopped up their respective horses. 

The ride hurt his side—a lot. Each trot sent pangs of fire through his body, rippling in his veins, spreading a wild, uncontrollable pain that caused Merlin to bite his cheeks to keep himself from yelling. 

He didn’t make a noise, though. He never does.

He stayed behind the pack, trying to feel the magic of the earth around him. The trees, the birds, the ground—all of it magic, all of it welcoming Merlin with no hesitation. He smiled slightly, his head tilted towards the sun trying to shine through the foliage. Hearing someone slow down, he forced himself to open his eyes at his companion.

Arthur watched him, curious, staring openly at him.

“May I help you, sire?” 

Arthur did a half smile at the tone. “Just…thinking, I suppose.”

Merlin opened his mouth to say his quip, but he audibly, and dramatically, snapped it shut when he saw the look on Arthur’s face—the king laughed, causing Merlin to stare at the other now. He loved Arthur’s laugh. It didn’t happen as much as Merlin would like, but the time he got it out of the man always felt like a prize like no other.

All the pain in the world would be worth hearing that sound again.

Arthur’s amused face looked away from Merlin, assessing the small clearing they just wandered into. 

“We can make camp here.”

Merlin immediately jumped off his horse, grateful for his tight wrapping he applied this morning. The bandages feeling like the only thing keeping him whole. 

“I’ll get firewood!” Merlin yelled, not waiting for anyone to say anything else as he all but ran into the forest, towards the running water he could hear was close by. Three steps in, he heard someone walking behind him. 

He sighed. “Lancelot. Why are you following me?”

The man in question caught up to him easily enough, and then right passed him, looking at the ground for usable wood.

“Well, my magical friend, as you are in pain and have not answered my previous question, I figured I could take it upon myself to annoy you until you broke in and told me what was going on with you.”

Merlin grumbled. “I’m fine.”

Lance didn’t stop searching, barely blinking at the obvious lie. 

Sighing, Merlin grabbed Lance’s arm, stopping his friend’s theatrics. “Look, I just hurt myself yesterday and it hasn't been healing properly. It’s fine, I’m fine.”

Lance quickly poked Merlin’s side, earning a loud gasp from the warlock. Merlin looked at Lance with wide eyes, shocked. “What the fuck, Lance?”

Lance scoffed. “Fine my ass, Merlin. If you say that one more time, I’ll throw you in the river.” 

Merlin scowled, while Lance just rolled his eyes. “Now, you’re going to go back to camp and let me finish collecting firewood.” And right when Merlin was about to protest, Lance glared at him. “No complaining. I am going to make sure you’re not going to do anything else stupid and hurt yourself more. Merlin,” here Lancelot’s eyes were soft, “I am here for you, always. And I am not letting you hurt yourself more.”

Merlin smiled softly, giving in and hugging the knight. “Thank you, Lance. You know I love you?”

Lance grinned, pushing Merlin gently towards the others. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too.”

Merlin hugged himself as he walked slowly back to camp. If Lance could tell, then maybe he wasn’t as good as hiding his pain as he originally thought. He frowned as he continued, his thoughts moving towards the noticeable silence of the surrounding forest. It seemed a bit too quiet, but he pushed the thought away. I’m starting to sound like Arthur, he thought with a small huff. 

Walking into the clearing, Merlin spotted Gwaine and Percy bent in an intense conversation, Elyan and Arthur parrying in the center, and their sleeping mats all nicely arranged in a circle, so he figured it would be a good time as any to start preparing dinner. Working diligently helped keep his mind off himself. As his thoughts wandered, he didn’t notice the small cracks of sticks and dried leaves coming from the other side of the clearing. 

He did see the shadowy movements, however, right before they attacked. Merlin got up quickly, shouting out an alarm that was just a few seconds too late. And the last thing Merlin saw before he was knocked out was Arthur yelling at him, and then nothing but blackness.

Merlin woke up with a resounding headache. He tried to move his hands, but he forced his eyes open when he realized they were tightly bound. 

He squinted in the bright firelight, seeing many figures encased in darkness. 

“Finally! The warlock awakens.” 

Merlin shook his head, confused. “What?” He said through his gag.

“Ungag him, will you? Let the man talk.”

Someone close to him stepped forwards, the face unremarkable and void of any expression as he roughly took off the covering.

Merlin spit blood to the side before he squinted up once more. “And you are?” Merlin said, sounding bitter and a bit bored. This shit always happens to them.

“Call me Aren.” The man said, the smile heard in his voice, as he stepped into Merlin’s view. He was a tall man with black hair and onyx colored eyes that glinted from the fire.

“Should that mean something to me?” Merlin inquired, knowing that pissing people off was usually his specialty.

Aren’s smile vanished. “We met yesterday. Don’t I look familiar?”

Merlin leaned forwards on his knees, tilting his head. “Hmm, I can’t recall. Though, I don’t usually give many of my enemies much thought.”

That made Aren grin, and Merlin took the quick pause to look more closely around him. All the knights were tied with two or three of their attackers holding them in place. Lance was here, too, so they must have caught him unawares as well. Merlin looked to Arthur next, who was glaring daggers at this Aren man. 

Aren hummed, walking around him. “How is your wound?”

Merlin saw Lance and Elyan straighten at that as Arthur’s head snapped towards the warlock. Merlin feigned confusion. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

The leader nodded to the person to Merlin’s left, and Merlin barely had a second to understand what was going to happen before the man kicked him squarely in the abdomen. 

Merlin screamed as he fell to the ground.

Aren clicked his mouth, disappointed. “See what happens when you lie?”

Merlin grunted, managing to bring himself back to his knees. He felt the blood soaking through his shirt, the color draining from his face, the intensity of the stares of his friends—from horror, or from fear, Merlin couldn’t tell.

“What do you want?” Merlin spit, getting slightly pissed off now. 

Aren shrugged. “What do any of us want, Merlin?”

The warlock lifted his gaze, finally realizing what the man said at the beginning. Warlock. This man knows I’m a warlock. Merlin quickly looked at Arthur in horror. The king looked steadily back at him, no hint of repulsion or betrayal or anger. Maybe he didn’t hear Aren say it, Merlin prayed to any of the gods that was true. 

“Ahh there it is!” Aren cheered. “The recognition. You were quicker yesterday.”

Merlin growled. “And why is it that I can’t remember anything about our little encounter?”

Aren looked to his left, grabbing someone’s hand. “Ah yes. That would be the work of my lady, Taryn. Say hello dear.”

The girl smiled, the expression more wild than not, and did a slight bow before sliding back into the darkness. Aren then watched with clear amusement as Merlin tried to use magic against the bindings. “My dear boy, what are we? Novices?” He scoffed. “We are quite skilled, I’ll have you know.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I don’t give a shit who you are or what you know.” A quick pause before Merlin continued: “How about we make a deal?”

Merlin heard Arthur start protesting through his gag knowing what Merlin was going to say, but the warlock tried to ignore him and the unease settled in his gut.

“Yes?” Aren said lightly.

“You can have me, without a fight, if you let my friends go. They are innocents.”

The leader laughed, loudly. “I would hardly call these men innocent, Merlin. They’ve aided and abetted the king of Camelot’s hatred of magic. Watched as true innocents were killed, watched as the king did nothing but stand to the side as our people burned. No one here is innocent.” He snarled the last part towards the group, making them look down in shame. 

“Still,” Merlin pleaded, “you have me, right? That’s all you came for. Let them go.”

Aren’s face darkened a bit, but he still seemed to consider the offer. “Willingly?”

Merlin vehemently nodded, knowing that he had mere minutes before the blood loss made him pass out. 

Aren turned towards Taryn, as Merlin quickly counted how many people there were. Thirteen held his friends down, two were to his left, two to his right, three in front. 

20 people, Merlin mused, shouldn’t be too hard. Right?

He let himself glance at Arthur, who turned to look at him at the same time. Arthur’s eyes didn't look angry, or betrayed, only fierce with a hint of distress. Merlin looked at his King for strength, knowing that if he didn’t believe their captors about his magic, he would soon. And Merlin wanted to remember his face like this—strong, unyielding, protective. His king, soon to be his doom. Merlin shut his own eyes, swallowing the terror of what he was about to do in front of his friends. If he were to die from this either way, at least his friends would make it out alive. 

With resignation and determination pounding in his blood, Merlin opened his eyes. He heard the gasps of everyone, and he knew his eyes were no longer the color of the sky, but a fiery gold. Aren snapped his head at the noise, eyes widening at Merlin.

“That’s not possible,” the man shook his head violently, “the cuffs—“

Merlin gave him a feral smile before the world ignited into a burning white light. 

Landing on his face, Merlin felt his energy quickly fade into a numbness. He laid there, breathing unsteadily, when he felt hands lift him up.

Elyan, Gwaine, and Lance surrounded him, the latter two holding him on his feet as Elyan took out his sword in front of them, Percy quickly joining the knight in front. 

Merlin coughed out blood, whimpering a little at the lack of any feeling in his body. His eyesight was blurred, but he saw Arthur stand up slowly, his hands raised like he was taming wild animals.

Merlin gasped, remembering, albeit slowly, what happened. He stumbled away, his breathing quickening, his heart pounding too quickly, too quickly. He fell, the pain in his side returning full force. The knights tried to help him, but he pushed them away, tears streaming down his face. “No, no, no,” Merlin cried, “I’m going to die. He is going to kill me.”

He saw Lance and Gwaine quickly look at each other, fear on their faces, as they stepped towards him. Merlin sobbed. “No, no, no. Get away from me. No, no!”

He couldn’t breathe. The ground started spinning beneath him, the trees started falling towards him, he heard screams, but that could’ve been himself, as the world crashed into blackness once more.

“aking up? Gaius!”

Merlin couldn’t move. His eyes felt like they had been sewn shut, and his throat felt like he had been screaming for hours on end.

“Ga’s?” Merlin rasped out, reaching out his hand for his father figure.

“I’m here, my boy, I’m here.” Gaius touched his hand, feeling his forehead with the other. “Your fever has finally gone away.” Merlin heard Gaius move away for a moment, only to return with a glass of water. He forced his eyes to open, lifting them to the court physician.

“How do you feel, Merlin?”

After gulping down the entire cup, Merlin sighed contentedly. “Like absolute shit.”

Gaius chuckled. “I would imagine.” The man helped Merlin into a sitting position, the pain in his side almost nonexistent.

“What happened, Gaius?”

Merlin looked past his caretaker, eyes landing on the king. “Arthur? Why-?”

The sad look on Arthur’s face was enough to remind Merlin exactly what happened. Merlin gasped, looking towards Gaius in terror, “Gaius had nothing to do with it, my lord. I promise.” And then remembering what the knights did, he quickly added, “Neither did the knights, I swear on my life. If I am to burn, please keep them out of it. I’ll do anything, just please don't hurt them.”

Arthur’s face fell even more, the hurt shining brightly in the king’s eyes. At the moment of silence, Gaius rubbed Merlin’s back and whispered, “Merlin, Arthur knew. It’s okay, we are all going to be okay.” And with that, the man left them alone.

Merlin couldn’t think straight. His thoughts flew faster than ever, trying to connect the pieces he was obviously missing.

“Merlin…” Arthur whispered, his voice sounding scratchy from disuse. Now that Merlin actually looked at him, the king looked horrible. His blonde hair disheveled, his stubble longer than normal, his shirt and pants dirty, his eyes baring darkness indicating he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time.

“Arthur..?” Merlin said softly, a question, a concern.

Arthur got up then, and he started pacing. Merlin could do nothing but watch as his king—his light, his reason for living—pulled violently at his hair. Confused, Merlin wanted to comfort Arthur, as always, but as he tried to get up, his legs immediately failed him. Merlin closed his eyes, expecting to hit the floor hard, when he felt strong hands hold him up.

“Merlin! You need to sit down and rest, what are you doing?”

Merlin held onto Arthur, his hands finding their way to his king’s shoulders to steady himself. They locked eyes for a minute, or for an hour—Merlin couldn’t tell—before Merlin broke it with a quiet question. “Do you hate me?”

Arthur tensed beneath his hands, and Merlin’s heart fell. It was too much to wish that this wasn’t the end. Merlin tried to stop his tears from coming, but it was no use. His heart was broken. He felt broken.

“No, no! Why are you crying, Merlin? Are you in pain?” Arthur sounded genuinely concerned, breaking Merlin even more.

“I’m fine.” Merlin tried to push himself away from him, but Arthur held on steadfast.

“Merlin, look at me, please Merlin.” And after a few beats, Merlin did. He saw Arthur’s beautiful cerulean eyes bright with unshed tears.

“I don’t hate you.”

That made Merlin’s knees weak, but Arthur didn’t let go, and he didn’t stop talking, either. It was almost like once Arthur started, he couldn’t stop.

“I don’t hate you, and I don’t think I ever could, if I’m being honest. You know what I am? Angry. Not at you keeping your secrets, or lying to me for years. I worked through that all already—I’ve been doing it for months. I always came to the same question, though. Why? Why risk yourself like this? Why help me? Why stay at my side when I’ve been unworthy of that devotion? That question wouldn’t leave me alone. I would watch you tidy up my room, humming, and wonder what on earth is keeping you at my side? At first, I was angry. Angry that you lied, angry that you were the enemy the entire time, angry that everything we had was a lie.”

Arthur tighten his hold after Merlin flinched at the words, and the king started rubbing absentminded circles on the warlock’s skin.

“But, after keeping you at a distance for a week, I’m not sure if you remember that,” Merlin did. Vividly. Arthur wouldn’t let him near him, and he wouldn’t tell Merlin why. But after that week, they returned to semi-normacy. Merlin was unsure what happened, and Arthur still held himself tightly whenever Merlin entered the room.

“I realized how stupid I was. I asked Gaius to tell me everything, not that he did it easily. He refused to know anything I was talking about,” Arthur rolled his eyes, “like I would ever believe that. But after a few days, and countless promises that I meant no harm, he told me. I was in shock for a bit after. Gaius said he didn’t have all the details, and that I should talk to you, but I was scared. Merlin. I was scared to find out why.”

Merlin still couldn’t stop the tears from falling as Arthur gently lowered him onto the cot, the king sitting next to him, still rubbing those damn patterns onto Merlin’s skin.

“Watching you for a couple more days, I started scolding myself for my own cowardice. I started thinking why the question mattered that much, why I cared at all for someone who obviously never truly trusted me. I get it, though, Merlin,” here Arthur stared directly into Merlin’s eyes, not wavering for a second, “why you never told me. Fuck, I wouldn’t have told me either if I was in your place. When did I ever give you a reason to?” Arthur scoffed at himself, still tensed and worked up.

Merlin couldn’t get a word in before Arthur continued on. “And last week, I decided enough is enough. I needed to tell you I knew. It wasn’t fair of me to keep it from you, not when you live your life in such a constant state of fear of Camelot’s laws. I needed to tell you how I was almost done rewriting the laws, how close I was to freeing your people, how sorry I was for being so idiotically blinded by my father’s hatred. And when you agreed to go to the hunt with me, I was already prepared with my speech. With you and my knights, I was going to explain the changes I was making, and I thought that would be the perfect time to tell you I knew.”

Arthur got up again, walking back and forth. “Of course it all went to shit, though, because when can we ever get a break? And, gods, Merlin, I was so angry at you for putting yourself in more danger! What was that? Not telling me you were hurt? I had to find out by some assholes kicking you so hard that you scream in pain! Merlin,” the king turned to face him, walking back to the cot, “the sound almost broke me.”

Merlin’s tears were a steady companion as Arthur took up his seat once more, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. “You were in agony, and I couldn’t do anything! Powerless, and terrified, and fucking useless. When you looked at me before turning into white hot flame, I saw your fear, your terror, your resignation that this was your end. I screamed, then, when you closed your eyes. I screamed at the men holding me, at the world for watching this happen, at the gods who did nothing to help. But you,” Arthur shook his head, eyes full of amazement, “You lit up. You burned so brightly, I had to shut my eyes. I’ve never seen such raw power, Merlin, you were brilliant.”

Merlin repeated the word quietly to himself, brilliant.

Arthur shook his head again, his eyes darkening. “After that, you started freaking out. You were sobbing, yelling you couldn’t breathe, backing away from everyone. Even as the knights tried to tell you that they understood, that they knew, you didn’t believe them. Gaius says you were delirious from the blood loss and the use of such magic, and it scared me. I thought we were going to lose you,” Arthur’s absentminded rubbing returned, the feeling burning through Merlin’s skin.

“The knights, Merlin, you should’ve seen them. Elyan and Percy had their weapons towards me, as Gwaine tried to help Lance pick you up. But you wouldn’t let them, saying for them to run, that they needed to get out of there. Lancelot managed to calm you down enough that you passed out, but no one moved. They were ready to protect you until their last breath, even if that meant leaving me behind to get you to safety. I explained to them quickly what I knew, and they immediately moved aside to let me near you. I had to get to you, and I think the knights saw that too.

We carried you to the horses and rode to Camelot, faster than anything we’ve ever done before. Gaius was able to stop the bleeding, but you had such a high fever for days. I didn’t leave your side. I wouldn’t. The knights came in at the beginning, and they promised me that you would be fine if I left for a moment, but I couldn’t move. You thought I hated you, I saw it in your eyes, and every time I closed my own, that was the only thing I saw. They realized it was quite a lost cause and they began to take turns staying with us, each of them telling me how they came to realize your magic. Elyan found out accidentally through Gwen, who threatened him if he harmed you in anyway, Gwaine apparently always had an inkling, ever since the plate incident when we first met him, and Percy said he had no idea, but he knew what kind of person you are and he would defend you to his dying breath.”

Merlin’s breathing hitched, the overwhelming feeling of acceptance smothering his lungs.

“Lancelot was the fiercest, if you were wondering. It took a lot of explaining on my part before he let me near you again. I knew Lancelot’s loyalty was with you, but the depth of it shook me to my core. All the knights seem more loyal to you, it seems, than their own king,” here Arthur smiled, “and I am proud of that, of them. They knew you, all of you, and did not hesitate to protect. I knew I made the correct choice picking my roundtable, wouldn’t you agree?”

Merlin nodded, still stunned enough by it all that he couldn’t say a word.

Arthur grabbed his hand then, turning himself towards the warlock. “So, no, Merlin. I do not hate you. I was mad that you put yourself at danger once again, so please stop doing that. You’re going to put me in an early grave from worry, and I think Gaius and the knights agree with me.”

Merlin gave a wet laugh, “I can’t promise that, Arthur, you know that.”

Arthur’s soft smile returned, and Merlin couldn’t help but stare at the man’s face. This was the king he chose, here was the reason he put himself at danger. Arthur wiped away Merlin’s tears, and Merlin leaned into the touch as Arthur’s fingers gently stroked his cheek.

They had so much more to discuss and to plan, but for now, Merlin let himself feel acceptance for the first time since he’s moved to Camelot. He let himself feel loved, cared for, understood.

No, this wasn’t the end of anything, Merlin realized, only the beginning of something greater.

[namelessayakashi]

stress level: merlin revealing his magic to arthur

if you haven't already guessed, it's me, i am the titles anon :3 if i had known id get sucked in so deep into the merlin fandom i would've made a separate acc instead of a side blog. butttt i didn't, so i spent two hours yesterday trying to turn a side blog into main without any luck but this mess was the next best thing. anyway i can come off anon now :D

gonna leave you with another title: 'the filth in my bones' for you know who <3 yes its a lyric by the lumineers but it reminds me of merlin and my brain wants me to sleep now good day/night!

Fssbfafjnfajgd I was WONDERING IF IT WAS YOU!! Ahhhh I love your titles sm dhsnfnjajt I actually added i think 2 of them to my fic planner, so I'm so glad to know they were from you so now when I get around to writing them (it'll be awhile, I have 41 planned just for this series alone in total atm) I can actually properly link you as the one who came up with the title!!

Also hajdjajjf that sounds like a struggle im sorry😭😭

I love song lyrics as titles (ahaha see: modern art & close your eyes, my butterfly 😭😂😂 they're both titled after song lyrics)

And this one is great!!

The Filth In My Bones

"I've done...bad things...Arthur," Merlin murmured, late one night as he laid curled against the King's side, "and...sure, some of them were in self defense, or saving you, or for some other stupidly justifiable reason but I... it..."

He trailed off, taking a shaky breath. A frown marred Arthur's brow and he turned his head, pressing a kiss to the top of his lover's hair.

"I understand," he said, the soft tone of his voice surprising even himself. "I understand... I've as well. No matter how good the reason, it weighs on you, lurks in your mind and finds a way to corrupt your self-image—a way to make your doubt yourself and your motives. You must know, though, you are not what you've done..."

Merlin let out a rough laugh, burying his face in Arthur's side a moment. He took a few steadying breaths before pulling away to meet the blond's eyes.

"You sound almost wise when you say things like that."

Arthur gave the warlock a grin, rolling onto his side to face him and pull him closer.

"I'm the King, I'm always wise."

Or

Sometimes, Merlin doubts himself. He doubts his motives, his morals, he doubts his sense of good.

He wonders if he's truly good, with the things he's done in the names of Destiny and Love.

On these nights, he's grateful to have Arthur at his side to ease his fears, and wipe away his doubts.

No man is truly good, nor is he truly evil, so why must you hold yourself to such impossible standards? Arthur would ask him, and in that moment Merlin would realize he was right.

So when the doubts and worries came back, he'd let Arthur save his day.

So btw, I've never actually heard the song the title lyrics are from I don't think.

But I hope you like what I've come up with!!

Send title, get summary

[drarry-with-a-side-of-harry]

THAT WAS ONE OF THE GAYEST EPISODES IN A HOT MINUTE LMAOOOO WTF

so i’ve just watched series 4 episode 10 ‘A Herald of the New Age’ uhhhhhh

wait wait wait so gwen’s gone for two (2) seconds and Arthur and Merlin are flirting like they’re in a school playground all over again lmaoooo i’m so done

so first of all they get back to Camelot and Merlin’s falls back into his concerned boyfriend routine 🥺🥺🥺🥺 SIDE NOTE THE KNIGHTS ARE JUST FULLY AWARE OF THESE TWO AT THIS POINT THEY ALWAYS FLIRT AND ARE REALLY TENDER IN FRONT OF THEM I CANNOT BE ARSED anyway Merlin asks Arthur if he’s alright and Arthur’s all sad and brooding 🥺🥺🥺 so Merlin says he was being quiet and Arthur just answers him with a snide remark but with none of the laughter and ARTHUR, KING, SWEETIE WHY WON’T YOU JUST LET THIS BOY HELP YOU???? 🥺🥺🥺🥺

SO THEN WE SKIP AHEAD A BIT AND OMFG LET ME TELL YOU I WAS CACKLING WITH LAUGHTER AND KEPT HAVING TO PAUSE IT. THIS SHIT IS GOLDEN

so Merlin walks in on Arthur asleep at his desk. if you’ve watched the show you will remember this scene because it’s too iconic but am i gonna run through it anyway?? you’re damn right i am because i am obsessed lmaoooooo

SO MERLIN JUST STRAIGHT UP BANGS ON THE DESK REALLY FUCKING LOUDLY TO GET HIM TO WAKE UP HAHAHAHAHHAA AND ARTHUR HAS FOOD ALL OVER HIS FACE I-

who fucking wrote this shit it’s too good man

Arthur jumps out of his mind and Merlin the little shit has the audacity to say “oh i’m sorry i didn’t mean to scare you” HAHAHAHAHAHA YOU ABSOLUTE DICKHEAD MERLIN 😭😭😭😭😭😭 and he barely even cracks a smile how this man holds it together i will never know. honestly how Colin Morgan managed to deliver that just once without cracking up is beyond me.

OH BUT WE’RE FAR FROM FINISHED

so Arthur responds “you didn’t scare me, i was asleep” LMAOOOOO YEAH BITCH WE KNOW HAHAHAHAHAHA IM STILL SCREAMING ABOUT THIS

so now Merlin starts to laugh a bit but he’s holding it together. you know when you’re in school and something funny happens with your mates and you shouldn’t laugh because you’re meant to be working but you can’t not laugh and you’re all just snorting to stop yourselves from laughing??? yeah same energy

Arthur: “why’ve you got that stupid smile on your face?” baby i don’t know what to tell you anymore

Merlin: “it’s nothing. why were you sleeping with your head on the table?” and his face just drops to confusion HOW DOES HE NOT KEEP LAUGHING

Arthur: “i fell asleep while i was reading” uh huh okay sure thing

Merlin: “what were you reading?” this is turning into the most mundane conversation you’ve ever heard but it’s priceless because Arthur’s still half asleep and Merlin’s just fucking with him i’m so done

Arthur looks around trying think of something and realises be can’t lie anymore so this bitch just has to say “i am the King of Camelot i do not have to answer to the likes of you” LMAOOOOOOOO KING JUST ADMIT YOURE AN IDIOT AND LEAVE and Arthur’s almost cracking a smile at this point too we get it you love him

Merlin: “oh you’re in a good mood, you obviously got out of the wrong side of the table” AND THIS MAN JUST STARTS PISSING HIMSELF AT HIS OWN JOKE I-

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

AND ARTHUR’S DEADPAN STARE IS PRICELESS

and Merlin explains the joke while he’s still laughing and Arthur replies “that’s extremely clever and funny Merlin there really are no limits to your wit now will you please just get me some breakfast” HAHAHAHAHHAA MATE WHEN I SAY IM HOWLING WRITING THIS POST

‘there really are no limits to your wit’ sent me

so Merlin goes to get breakfast and Arthur (who has loads of food on his face remember) uses the plate as a mirror OH BOY

THIS SCENE COULD NOT BE ANY FUNNIER I SWEAR

he lowers the plate with another deadpan stare aimed at the door. boy is FUMING LMAOOOOOOOO

he shouts Merlin and i will suck my own big toe if there is anyone in the castle Camelot that didn’t hear him MY GOD THAT WAS PRICELESS

me current state: deceased

OH AND IT DOESN’T STOP THERE OH NO NO NO

so the very next scene we’re at training Arthur tells the lads to pair up and Gwaine asks what’s in his hair. Arthur’s face is just a picture. Merlin helpfully answers that it’s stew. Leon asks him why he’s got stew in his hair. Merlin quickly responds “because he was reading” in that tone when Merlin’s being a right snarky little shit oh you know

the lads just turn to look at Arthur like “wtf man??”

Arthur takes a minute and says “change of plan. i think we’ll try something different” lmaoooo you just know what’s coming next

so Merlin’s used for sword practise

Arthur has first go and the lads are smirking at them and each other like “oh these two had another domestic” “about the stew this time ahhh right” lmaooooo

JUST GOLD

there was a whole two (2) minutes of just solid flirting, taking the piss and just generally annoying the shit out of each other i-

OH AND THERE’S MORE

it’s nighttime now and this cheeky bastard asks “would you like me to make up the bed Sire, or will you be sleeping on the table again?” with a little smile on his face HAHAHAHAHAHAHA it just keeps getting better this episode really is a gift

Arthur doesn’t respond because he’s all moody again and Merlin all but roles his eyes all he wants to do is cheer up his boyfriend 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 so he sighs “is this about Gwen” and Merlin looks kinda irritated and sad and Arthur won’t even look at him and Merlin says “we all miss her. you more than anyone” and Arthur cuts him off with “you can go now” maaaaate the feels

Merlin: “Arthur”

Arthur: “get out” oh so now you look at him

omfg you were happy earlier can you please just let him help you ffs you’re just making each other really fucking sad and it’s not helping anything

and Merlin leaves and Arthur kind of looks over his shoulder and almost shakes his head like he doesn’t actually want him to go 🥺🥺 and every damn time something like this happens i expect him to say “no, wait” 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

and now Arthur looks even more sad. well baby i don’t know what to tell you but you did just do that to yourself a little bit. just leT MERLIN HELP YOU ffs

SO Merlin storms in and dad Gaius is at the table reading and Merlin’s just ranting that he’s done being nice to Arthur and he doesn’t get any thanks and he’s saved his life so many times and all he ever does is shout at him. yeah boy we know aND SO DOES GAIUS because this man does not look up at him!!!!!! tell me that’s not Merlin ranting to his dad about his crush i swear-

Gaius tells him there’s more important things to worry about like the plot of this episode perhaps??? lmaoooo this is getting out of hand now. dad’s so done with Merlin’s lovesick bullshit lmaoo

so we move on a bit and Arthur tells his uncle that Merlin thinks Elyan’s possessed oh so now dad’s dead you value Merlin’s counsel huh king?? we love to see it

we love that Merlin can speak up a bit more now ehehehe

so uncle says that Merlin’s just tryna protect his friend and Arthur just looks at Merlin like “i believe you don’t worry but we need evidence man”

oh my christ we’re only half way through true episode i’ll try and speed things up a bit i think the main Merthur action’s done anyway

Merlin breaks Elyan out. arrives back at Camelot and walks into the throne room. Arthur’s drinking and reading something and just looks up when Merlin enters with the most glorious look on his face like “oh this bitch is back finally” and carefully considers what he’s gonna say to him 😂😂😭😭😭

Arthur: “Merlin! good of you to join me. perhaps i should fill you in on all that’s been happening while you’ve been... that’s a good question. what the hell have you been doing??” LMAOOOOO these two i can’t

Merlin: “i was...”

Arthur (cutting him off): “choose your next words carefully. they may be you last” pahahahahahaha alright king pipe down

Merlin: “i was searching.. in the woods.... for some herbs for Gaius” boy’s just rambling about herbs and says he got lost

Arthur: “you mean to tell me that you’ve been wandering around in the woods all night???”

and the look on this man’s face. WONDERFUL

Merlin says yes and Arthur asks what happened to his head because it’s bruised and i just knew it was coming ffs “i tripped over a root and hit my head on a tree and knocked myself out” this fucking moron. this fool i despair

Arthur just toys with him and offers him some food with him at the table is it a joke though Arthur if you actually just want to have a lunch date with him and Merlin realises he’s joking and we get another golden deadpan stare from Arthur and it’s the funniest shit damn this episode is blessed and Arthur just stares him down as he fucks off out of the room lmaooooooo 😭😭😭😭😭😭 and then to finish it off dramatically picks up his paper again so we all know he’s back to ‘important reading’ uh huh Arthur sure you’re not just thinking about that interaction?? like the rest of us clowns

fast forward and Arthur let’s Elyan go and somehow Merlin’s there again???

anyway Arthur talks to his uncle and when he’s gone Arthur confides in Merlin and Gaius i’m sorry but we have to stan some A+ development (also i really hope Arthur’s starting to lose trust in his uncle because i was sort of getting that vibe from this scene idk we can only hope)

Merlin’s in Arthur’s chambers that night clearing up and Arthur says “that’ll be all Merlin” anD MERLIN REPLIES “are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” UMMMMMMM FOR WHAT????? I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT ARTHUR WAS GOING TO SLEEP UHHHHHHHHHHHHH IDK MAN SEEMS KINDA SUS TO ME WHAT’RE YOU GONNA DO MERLIN JUST SLEEP IN HIS BED WITH HIM??? HMMMMMMMMM THE PLOT MAJORLY THICKENS BECAUSE ARTHUR DOESN’T EVEN FIND THIS AN ODD SUGGESTION BECAUSE HIS RESPONSE IS JUST “think i’m gonna get an early night” OKAY SO FIRST OF ALL THAT IMPLIES THAT HIM AND MERLIN WOULD BE- *BIG COUGH COUGH*

AND SECONDLY THAT IMPLIES THAT THIS IS SOMETHING THEY’VE DONE BEFORE I REALLY DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THIS INFORMATION THE EVIDENCE SEEMS PRETTY CONCLUSIVE TO ME YOUR HONOUR

then they have a nice little joke about Merlin not getting an early night lmaooo we do love to see the bants

so later on Merlin follows Arthur into the woods lmao of course he does would you really expect anything less at this point?? and they have this whole why are you here?! no why are you here?! moment lmao

Arthur tells him he’s free to go back to Camelot at any time sweetie you really think that’s gonna happen?? you fool Arthur Pendrgaaon because obviously Merlin’s not going anywhere AND THEN ARTHUR’S BACK TO BEING A SELF SACRIFICIAL LITTLE SHIT AGAIN BABY YOU’RE KING NOW YOU CAN’T BE SO WILLING TO DIE AT EVERY FUCKING PROBLEM WTF we find out that this whole thing’s Arthur’s fault but this whole scene is honestly so nice and lovely and warm and he knows what he did was wrong and that he was a stupid young man 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 and the druid boy forgives him 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 and he’s CRYING omg recently Merlin’s constantly on the verge of tears but when Arthur cries you know some bad shit’s going down and the music omgggg 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 “from this day forth the druid people will be treated with the respect they deserve, i give you my word” 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 i love him your honour

so then we’re back in Arthur’s chambers and Merlin says “you know that was incredibly moving what you said at the shrine” Arthur says “it served it’s purpose” because Elyan’s alright ARTHUR STOP PRETENDING YOU DON’T CARE TO LOOK COOL FOR YOU BOYFRIEND MERLIN KNOWS YOU’RE 10X THE MAN YOUR FATHER EVER WAS

Merlin says “you meant it” and then Arthur gets a bit snappy because he’s embarrassed 🥺🥺🥺 and Merlin says “i don’t ever think i’ve seen you cry before. well not like that. you had tears running down your cheeks it’s nice to see this new sensitive emotional side to you, it suits you” doesn’t it just baby???? 🥺🥺🥺🥺 then we get a classic shut up Merlin and this is the first time Arthur dares to look at him throughout this conversation 😭😭😭 and then Merlin mocks him *gasp* “i really thought you’d changed” lmaoooo “then you’re as stupid as you are ugly” lmaooooooo Arthur just tell him he’s pretty and leave

and just to finish things off

Arthur’s walking to the door

Merlin: “so there’s no chance that we could have a hug?” and he’s half 🥺 and half smiling/laughing ready to play it off

Arthur turns back to him and starts play running towards him and Merlin runs away and Arthur tackles him off screen aND YOU CANNOT TELL ME ARTHUR DID NOT GIVE THAT MAN THE BIGGEST HUG WHEN THEY WERE BOTH DOWN ON THE GROUND AHHHHHHHHAHAHAHA THEH ARE SO PURE I LOVE IT 🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 can you not just imagine these two giggling and chasing each other round the room i-

[reeree1500]

The Return- Part 11

Im backkkkk💕 Hey yall so after a very very longgggg break from writing😅😬 I am officially back💕 I wanted to say thank you to everyone who reached out to me for their support and their love💕☺️ I am currently working on finishing up this series for yall as well as some smutty😏 requests that have been sent in. And I just wanna say that I love all of yall and yall are the best people out there💕💕💕💕💕💕

Disclaimer: Some Angst, Some Fluff and my horrible writing as always💕 Hope yall enjoy💕

Taglist: @yanii-the-hippie @oceans-daughter-3 @camatsuru @youbloodymadgenius @calum-hoodwinked-me @cutegyrl927 @readsalot73 @blonddnamedhandz @hallowed-heathen @pinkrockstar19 @ivarthethiccness @zuxiezendler @thejulietfarciertlove @supernaturalvikingwhore @ifihadwings128 @paintballkid711 @affection-rabbit @mel0nch0ly @queenofallthyfandoms @limbo-limbo-limbo @biss-stuff @funmadnessandbadassvikings

Lemme know if you want to be a part of my permanent taglist as well, so I know who to include in the one shots☺️💕 

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Recap:

Taking a deep breath I go to stand up from the bed in order to fetch a bucket of water and some new clothes. Instead I end up on the floor cradling my belly, with a burning sensation in my chest and blood pouring out from my mouth. “(Y/n)! Mama!” I can hear the shouts around me. “Fetch the doctor! Now hurry!” The voices around me begin to fade and not before long I can feel myself drifting away.

“My baby... Save my baby...” And with that everything turns pitch black...

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Ivar’s POV

It seemed like time and everything around me stilled. What had started as a very awkward and unpleasant evening, had become even worse. Just a few steps away from me, (Y/n) had collapsed and I wanted nothing more than to rush to her aid and lift her up in my arms so that I could whisper that everything would be okay. That our son would be fine, because he was a fighter and he was OUR SON! That this was all a nightmare and that I would not rest till whoever was responsible would be put to death by my hands! But how could I? How could I be that person she needed the most when all I had done was bring her pain and sorrow. 

I hand single handedly destroyed her life and her family. It wasn't until I saw her there. Laying down on the mattress as cold as ice that it dawned on me. All the hurt and pain that I place the people I love through... 

“Ivar? Are you alright my love?” Said Freydis as she knelt down before me, whilst placing her hands on my knees. My hands that once rested on the arms of the chair I was in, grasped on to her arms. I lifted my gaze to meet hers with the iciest stare that I could muster. “Do...Not...Touch...Me...Whore. I want nothing to do with you, for I know that somehow you're involved in this. And when I find out how, I will not hesitate to end your life!” I said through gritted teeth, whilst I pushed her down on to the floor. “My king, my god, I have nothing to do with this I assure you! Please you must believe me!” She pleaded with me whilst trying reach for me again. I only stared at her and said nothing back for I would not be able to contain myself from killing her. 

Shifting my gaze away from her I stare at the mattress in the middle of the room. Were (y/n) and Erik lay. Both pale, but you could tell that Erik was not in as bad of a shape as (y/n) was, as he had some colour to his skin. I could see Freydis from the corner of my eyes, lifting herself up and trying to come towards me. This idiot does not give up. I quickly turned my icy glare towards her and she stopped dead in her tracks. Bowed and slipped away from the room.

Her eyes told me everything I needed to know. They showed guilt, anger, even happiness, perhaps at the fact that the only person that has ever loved me for me was dying, but the one thing that showed the most was remorse. And that single handedly told me that she was involved. Freydis was not smart enough to do this on her own, so there must have been someone else pulling the strings. And I would not rest until I found out who!

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Your POV

Fluttering my eyes open, I start to notice the familiar surroundings around me. The fireplace’s light radiating across the entire room. Marjorie’s little body at the foot of the bed sound asleep and Erik’s little body hugging her’s closely as if he was protecting her from anything. Erik! At that thought I try my hardest to lift myself off the bed to check on my baby boy, but am stopped by him. “Surely, you're not thinking about getting up, are you now? We both know that’s probably one of the stupidest things you could do in your condition.” Ivar said from the chair he was in. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, maybe even weeks. His hair was disheveled and his eyes held something to them that I couldn't quite put my finger on. 

I tried to form words, but couldn't quite find the right one’s. Ivar stood up from the chair and used his crutch as support to lift himself off the chair and walk towards the bed in the middle of the room. “I..var, what happened? Erik.. h..he was...”  I trailed off before the tears streamed down my face. “Shhhh... It’s alright. Don’t cry, I’ll explain everything that’s happened, but please do not cry. I cannot bear to see you in tears, love.” Ivar said while wiping the tears of my face with his thumbs as he sat down beside me. As Ivar took my hand in his, he recounted everything that had occurred in the last 2 weeks to me. 

Freydis had been escorted back to Kattegat by Ivar’s guards, he did not tell me why, but I could tell that it was something serious by the way his demeanour changed. Bjorn and Hvitserk were set to sail back as well sometime this week as they had treaties and business to attend to in Ivar’s behalf. Who was keen on not leaving my side till I awoke and Erik was back to full health. “And Arthur? Where is he?” I whispered, noticing the children about to wake up. At that Ivar takes a deep breath in and with an exasperated sigh... “He’s gone (y/n). He left a note about a week ago. He said that being here at your side wasn’t his place anymore, that the children and you would always have a place in his heart. And not to worry, that he was not going to revoke the children’s titles. But...” Ivar said looking down at our intertwined hands. For a moment I could see genuine sadness and guilt in his eyes, he looked back at the children and then he looked directly into my eyes. The eyes that I had tried so long to forget. The eyes that brought me comfort, safety and most of all the love that as much as I tried to deny it, he could only give me. “He divorced you (y/n)...” 

Before I could even get the chance to process what Ivar was telling me, I felt two pairs of arms wrap around me. “Mama! You're awake!” Cried out Marjorie. “Oh my babies! Im so sorry, I will never ever leave your sides again do you hear me?” I say to both Erik and Marjorie as I look into their eyes and wrapped them in a bear hug. I can feel Ivar’s stare from where he is sitting and before I realize what Im doing, I pull him in to the hug by the shirt he was wearing. “I cant... breathe...” said Erik from underneath mine and Ivar’s arms. At that we all let out a small laugh and let go of our family hug. “Erik are you feeling alright? Are you sick? We should probably get the doctor. And you should be in bed mister not out of it!” I say once it dawns on me that my son was almost poisoned, and here he is acting as if nothing had happened. “Calm down (y/n), he's alright I had the best doctors taking care of him while you were, you know.” Ivar says as he rubs my back in a soothing way. “Yeah Mama! Uncle Ivar...I mean Papa took care of me and Marjorie whilst you were sleeping, he never once left my side even though he probably should have, he looks terrible.” Erik says as he whispers the end of his sentence making me and Marjorie laugh. Ivar just stared at him not knowing how to reply to Erik. “Rude.” Is all that Ivar said before plopping down next to me on the bed, making us all laugh harder. I could see Ivar playing as if he were hurt by Erik’s statement, but his eyes told me how astonished he was at the fact our little boy was just like him, not to mention the fact that I could tell Ivar was dying of laughter on the inside. 

Moments later as the children are telling Ivar and I what they had done during the week. There’s a knock at the door. Marjorie and Erik go to answer it, as they noticed that Ivar had fallen asleep with his head on my lap and he hasn't slept at all during the last 2 weeks. “Well if it isn't, my beautiful niece and my handsome nephew. Eh! How’s your papa, is he still brooding and acting all grumpy in the corner of the room?” Hvitserk says with a grin on his face that stretches ear to ear. “Nope! He’s sleeping on mama’s lap you see.” Marjorie says as she points toward us from Hvitserk’s arms. “(y/n), you're awake!” He says putting Marjorie down and running towards the bed and throwing himself on it. Ivar’s hand shoots out and grabs Hvitserk’s throat. “Don’t.” He says before letting go and going back to sleep, as he places his upper body across my legs. “And were back to normal people!” Hvitserk as he laughs while hugging me and kissing my forehead.

 “So how are you feeling? How was it actually? Wait you must me insanely hungry, good thing I had your cooks make a feast!” As Hvitserk went on and on asking questions and me trying to answer them to the best of my ability I start to think about my family and what the future holds for us especially now since I’ve lost my best friend. And Im not 100% forgiving Ivar just yet, but I cant help but feel that this is how it was meant to be. Ivar and I listening to the ramblings of Hvitserk and our children and one of us drifting away while the other smiled and nodded. The thought brought a huge smile to my face, and a feeling that I could never forget nor want to disappear. The feeling of Family.

---------------------------------------------------

After a couple of days I still wasn't back 100%, but I couldn't just stay locked up in a room. Ivar protested all he could, but he knew that I would not stop until I got what I wanted. As I made the trek from the castle to the cliff I could see the ocean and how calm and serene it looked. The birds flocking from one place to another and the sun setting in the distance. The view was breathtaking. “You know considering you just got poisoned, you shouldn't be out and about by yourself.” Bjorn said as he approached me at the edge. “I know, but I just needed a moment to myself. To think about things and wrap my head around this mess.” I said pulling the shawl a little tighter around myself, to shield me from the ocean’s breeze. “Here, take this.” Bjorn said as he placed his fur around my shoulders. “I thought I lost you for good (y/n). Those 2 weeks where we didn't know if you would awake, took me to a dark place that I haven't gone too since before you came back into my life...” Bjorn whispered as he looked out towards the sun set. “Bjorn, I’m a horrible person. I can’t stop thinking about how this is the life I was meant to live. Just me, my kids and Ivar. What about Arthur? He was such a big part of my life and I...” 

“You can’t help, but feel guilty. Guilty that was you shared wasn't meant to be, that secretly you hoped for this day all your life? Free from what seemed like a burden?” He says as he sitting down and twiddling with the laces on his boots. “Yes... But he wasn't a burden, he was my friend, my best friend. He was there for me when Ivar wasn't, he took care of me.” I choke out through sobs as I fall on my knees next to him. “I know, but you cant help who you love (y/n) and who you do not. At the end of the day you would have held this in and it would've ate away at you, for Odin knows how long.” Bjorn says wiping away my tears and kissing my forehead. “God I hate you sometimes, you know that?” “Nope, you loveeee me.” We say as we laugh together whilst we lay down on the grass looking up at the stars as the night took over. “(y/n), although you're not technically my sister. I want you to know that no matter what I’ll always be with you and that I love you.” Bjorn says without looking at me. “I know...I love you too, big brother.” I take his hand in mine to show him that nothing has changed between us and that no matter what he’ll always be my big brother.

 Standing up we make our way back to the castle, but before we go in I stop him. “Bjorn, when is the boat departing to Kattegat, again?” “In 4 days time, why?” He asks with a worried look on his face. “Let’s say that I’ll be joining you, 4 years is long enough to be away from home.” I say looking up at him, with a hard look on my face. “I’m not one to stop you, but are you sure that’s what you want?” He says with a worried look. “Believe me, its what I want and what I will do.” 

I had gone too long being afraid of the retaliation that Floki would take against me, but I knew that he had orchestrated this poisoning, for he wanted me dead. However, he had not only messed with me, but with my son and no one touches my children. This time I would not return to Kattegat a scared little girl. I would return as a mother, who would protect her kids and her family at all costs and this time I would not be the one sent away, for I would stay in Kattegat and nothing and no one would get in my way...

[duhliriouss]

A Pawn & A King:

Chapter One

AN: This is a long ongoing story that will contain many chapters around 3000 words each. This will contain lots of angst, abuse, smut, drama, conflict, oh and smut! Please let me know if you have any suggestions you would like to see in future chapters. Some constructive criticism is much appreciated as well since this is my first FanFic. If you haven’t already, please read the Prologue below before proceeding to chapter one. Enjoy!

Prologue

Warnings: swearing, therapy, angst, abuse, self harm, mental illness

Summary: Y/N had lived her whole life in Gotham being unappreciated and disgaurded. With no family and an abusive roommate to rely on, Y/N doesn’t have much of a choice to resign anywhere else in the city. Yet she keeps on giving naively until her decent into madness and her meeting of the Joker.

Word count: 3,033

Disclaimer: I do not own Joker - Todd Philips or any character associated in Joker

Chapter One:

Your day carried on like any normal Monday. Surprisingly, you always felt at ease while working at the bank. Away from your reality. Away from anything that resembled your worthless life and place you called home.

You didn’t sleep well last night.

Your last hours dragged as you struggled to hold normal everyday conversations, Yet you always held a smile. No matter how tired you were you tried hard at your jobs. You cared.

You always cared. Too much it always seems. No one ever saw you angry. Your anger only consisted of getting red hot in the checks and running away with tears flying down your face. You’ve always been an emotional person that it make you ache day in and day out.

You felt things intensely.

All this has made you quite the pushover over the years. Someone could slap you across your face and you’d thank them, and/or apologize for anything you might have done wrong.

You hated this about yourself. One of your major flaws was muttering apologies for every action you made. Your psychiatrist has helped you discover over the months it was how your, now deceased brother tormented you all your childhood. And of course not letting you forget the disappointment your father had for you all your childhood years.

You knew you shouldn’t be sorry for most of the things you apologized for. But you’ve lost control on how to handle yourself when the real moments came.

The clock hit 4:00 pm and it was finally time to finish the rest of your exhausting day.

You swallowed hard as your feet left the building.

You didn’t like walking through the allies and streets of Gotham. You were used to being alone and even though you’ve walked alone in these streets over and over day by day, you always clenched yourself tightly looking down at your feet as you walked a steady pace, only focusing on point A to B.

Walking by people fighting and screaming, creepy men whistling as you hurried by, ignoring the robberies and drug deals as you focused your attention on the ground was a daily thing in Gotham. Yet it never ceased or lowered your fear.

You made your way to the train station and took a seat. You finally looked up to take in your surroundings for the first time since you left the bank.

Graffiti scattered most of the walls, mixed with flyers and Thomas Wayne For Mayer posters. Your eyes darted carefully around you to find just a few other passengers. Not sensing anything intimidating you focused your attention back on the poster.

Moving Gotham Forward

you huffed a small laugh quietly under your breath. You didn’t give a shit about politics. But some things you couldn’t help but chuckle at.

The city has always been run by the rich. Spilling their euphonious sounding lies as the city eats it up year by year. And when you see Wayne on the news, You don’t see a difference. That was one thing you wouldn’t let yourself be a pawn over.

~

“How’s your job”

“It’s good.”

“Home?”

“Fine”

You kept your eyes down fidgeting and twisting your cigarette in between your fingers.

Every week your multiple breakdowns gave you mental notes to talk about in your therapy sessions. Yet when the time came... you just sat there. Struggling to say anything at all.

The quietness and the burning of her eyes on you quickened your heart rate.

“Have you been journaling like I asked”

“No Mam” Your voice was soft and apologetic.

“And why’s that?”

You finally lifted your gaze to meet hers

“I don’t have time, I never have any time”

“Ah”

You watched silently as she traced her pen over the stacks in her folder printed with your name. Silence filling the room again.

“How does it feel coming here every week, having someone to talk to. Does it help?”

You took your time trying to find the right answer. You didn’t know. You never really knew anything once you sat in that seat. Once you walked through those doors you WERE a closed door, fumbling over your words. Frustrating yourself when you couldn’t find them.

“I - I don’t know. I think it was better for everyone around me when I was locked up in the hospital”

Your sentence started off nervous but as your heart rate slowed to your words, you felt the familiar numbness hit your chest.

Unbeknownst to you, your physiatrist noted the strangely similar, yet still different personalities you and someone else shared.

“I’m here to help you, you shouldn’t let yourself feel a burden to the world around you”

You couldn’t help but let out a cold, almost sarcastic laugh. Taking a drag off your cigarette you shifted your body to sit up straighter. You replayed her words in your head and frowned shamefully, Furrying your brows together and keeping your gaze downward

“I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at the fact you’re trying to help me. I just -“

You didn’t struggle with your words this time. You simply didn’t know how to tell her you’ve been living with someone whom has beat you countless times, made you feel more of a burden than anyone else. Never mind everyone else in your life. You didn’t have a family because of your burdens. No one at your jobs appreciated you and now that you think about it, you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who has actually appreciated you for you.

But what can you do? You were stuck. You didn’t have any other choices in Gotham to resign to. And being manipulated by Harvie for years now.. frankly, you were just too scared to make any decisions in your life.

You noticed you haven’t said anything in awhile.

You looked up again at the woman you knew didn’t truly care about the struggles you went through. Her eyes stayed down at your papers, flipping through the pages.

“You’re on 3 different medications, Y/N. Would you like me to up the dosa-“

“Yes, please”

You responded fast and eagerly. You’d do anything to not feel so bad anymore.

“Alright..” her words were flat and unamused.

“I’ve also been noticing your Bipolar Disorder has been more; manic recently. I’m going to prescribe you Lamotrigine. Just don’t take it in the afternoon with your anxiety med, and start taking your birth control in the morning instead. Taking all these together can make you become rather reckless.”

Your mind drifted off at “manic”. You stared past her left shoulder as she continued to speak into a complete zone out.

You were precisely dead inside.

“Can you remember that?”

Your eyes darted back to her. You gave her a warm fake-like, but believable smile and nodded your head

“Yes mam, thank you”

Her eyes studied you carefully then up at the clock that hanged over the door behind you.

“It seems our time is a little over schedule”

You both stood from your chairs rhythmically

“Let me know how you’re feeling next week”

“What?”

“You know, any side affects, nausea, change in mood”

“Oh yes.. right. Okay” you gave one last, sheepish smile before turning on your heels to the door. Keeping your head down preparing yourself to face the public again.

You opened the door quite fast and started to walk, fumbling to try and get your hands into your coat pockets to pull out another cigarette. Before you could take a third step you bumped right into something solid.

You bumped into someone. You clumsily tried to take a few steps back but a pair of strong hands kept you in place from falling, both hands on your elbows.

Your face shot up to look at the face of who you just humiliated yourself in front of.

But you were met with gorgeous, humbling green eyes.

“Oh.. hi Arthur” your cheeks instantly flushed still embarrassed and not sure how to react. As your eyes stayed locked, you took in his features being so uncomfortably close to him. His hair was slicked back and his lips curved into a slight smile, making the crows feet on the corner of his eyes accentuated

“Im so sorry, clearly I don’t pay attention to my surroundings as often as I should”

He let out a breathy laugh, letting go of your arms. You now kept your eyes to your feet.

“Where are you so eager to get to anyway?”

“I’m not sure. Just in my own little world I guess. I uh.. also have to stop at the corner store to pick up some food items for dinner tonight. Then I have to go to the laundry mat to put in a couple hours..”

You found yourself rambling. He didn’t need this much explanation. Stop talking!

You finally stopped and cleared your throat along with one deep breath. Not hearing anything you decided to slowly look up and meet his gaze. Arthur almost looked as nervous as you were. But he still held a somewhat amused smile.

“Y/N, are you alright? You seem more flustered than usual”

“Yes I’m fine.. just a busy a schedule today is all. Again, I’m sorry for running into you.”

He studied your face as you spoke. Noticing the dark bags that had accumulated under your beautiful (y/e/c) eyes. His eyes then wandered to your flushed cheeks before briefly landing on your plump red lips. You suddenly felt attacked under his gaze and tried it focus on anything else around the hallway.

Arthur noticed this.

Feeling awkward for clearly making you more uncomfortable he cleared his throat and went to stutter out a goodbye before entering the room you just left seconds before. But instead surprised himself with the boldness of what he said instead

“Would you like to get coffee tonight?”

“I - I can’t, I have to work and and cook dinner for Harvie and I tonight”

“Oh.. right” he laughed nervously “sorry that was stupid of me to ask..”

“It’s okay”

A silence filled the hallway

“Hey, can I uh” he slicked his hair back anxiously “can I at least give you my number? You could really use a real cup of coffee sometime this week. just call me on a night your not so busy, maybe?”

His sudden boldness caught you off guard.

You and Arthur didn’t know each other well. But you’ve been acquaintances for some time, and have run into each other quite often.

You first met when you had group therapy sessions together from time to time when you both were in Arkham State Hospital.

You also saw him once in awhile at the laundry mat when he picked up him and his mother’s clothes

And now coincidentally enough, you both saw the same physiatrist in the same day. He always was the appointment after yours. It has left huge opportunity’s for small talk. Which you both indulged in any chance you could get.

Most conversations you both shared with each other were rather awkward and short. But there was this strange feeling that made you not mind so much.

You could sit for hours in awkwardness with this man. He never intimidated you. And you felt more yourself in his presence.

But you still didn’t really know anything about him except that he lives and takes care of his mother and lives down the block from you.

“ s-sure..”

you looked up innocently at him. You didn’t think about your answer as it just poured out of you. You felt like you were under a spell Everytime he spoke to you. Especially now.

He gave you a ear to ear grin at your answer which was short stopped when you both noticed there was no pen or paper.

“I have a pen!” You unnecessarily shouted.

You dug through your black crossbody cotton-like purse and pulled out a pen with the banks name printed on the side.

“Here! I uh.. don’t have a piece of paper though...”

he chuckled at your ditziness and took two strides over to you until he was mere inches from you. Taking the pen from you

Your heart skipped. Adrenaline shooting up your spine deliciously.

You didn’t realize how much taller he was, your head only reaching to the mid of his chest.

Your nostrils filled with a sweet smell of cigarettes and a slight scent of .. some sort of mint?

You felt dizzy

“Can I see your hand?”

Without a word you lifted your left hand just enough for him to snatch it and it up bring it up to his chest. He began to write his number on the back of your hand.

You twitched to the sudden pressure he put against the skin with the ball of the pen.

neither of you spoke as he took his time to write. Your eyes instinctively fluttered shut, enjoying the gentle and subtle contact your body hasn’t felt for a very long time.

After finishing he gently let go of your hand. Bringing it back to yourself, you examined his work. Taking in the attempt he had made to try and hide his messy handwriting which failed beautifully.

You looked back up at him, your cheeks beaming red

“See you around, Arthur”

The air was heavy as you turned and walked away down the short hallway as fast as you could , overstimulated by everything that just happened. You needed to be alone outside again so you could breath and make sense of everything.

“See yuh” he let out softly, Barley enough for you to hear before shutting the main door behind you.

Once outside you turned and leaned your back against the old concrete wall, eyes shut and arms against your chest. You took a minute to breath. Once your heart rate slowed down you opened your eyes again and fumbled in your coat pockets again to light a cigarette. You took one long inhale then managed yourself to peel yourself off the wall and continue on with your day.

You were still very much flustered. You could not for the life of you stop thinking about what just transpired.

There was always a weird flirtatious vibe when you and Arthur had some time to converse,

but this was different.

You suddenly had a new feeling towards him that left bursts of butterfly’s go up your body.

You tried to shake it off as you got back on the train to go to your second job.

You were a little late. 10 minutes to be precise.

You walked through the doors of the laundry mat to find your boss, Nyle sitting at the register area looking not so amused

“You’re late, Y/N” he didn’t look up from his paperwork that was laid out on the desk

“I know I’m so sorry, I just..” You couldn’t lie. “I uh, my therapy app-“

“You think I need a fucking reason? You show up and do the fucking job. You only do three and a half god damn hours. If you can’t do something that fucking simple, you’re fired”

Tears sprung in your eyes at his words. You never got used to Nyle yelling at you. He was an old miserable man that was never happy no matter how well you preformed. Every little mistake was taken seriously.

“Y-you’re firing me?”

“Oh give me a break. You’re gonna cry now? You act like this the first time something like this has happened. You’re either late or you never do what I ask”

“I’ve only been late a small handful of times since I’ve worked here over a year ago! And I do what you ask of me all the time! It’s never good enough for you because your expectations don’t make any sense!”

Your breath caught in your throat and your body started to tremble. You shook as you felt heat rise all throughout yourself.

“Get out”

You turned and flung the doors open to leave, tears streaming down your face. You held on to yourself tightly as your turned into a dark ally and let yourself drop against the brick walls.

Audible cries left you and you didn’t care who was around to hear.

You took in your surroundings and didn’t see anybody. Piles of trash filled the ally and around yourself. You looked up but the cities buildings towered over blocking the sky.

You closed your eyes, your head raised against the brick. You muted your sobs so you could listen.

You heard a couple’s argument around the corner of the other side of the ally, sirens in the distance, more screaming that seemed even father away, and groups of laughing and clattering coming from a pub next to the ally side you just entered.

You started to silently laugh to yourself. Looking down at your cigarette, twisting and turning it between each finger. Your legs were half bent displayed out in front of you.

You stared at the amber of the cigarette while still listening to the cities commotion.

Without much thought you slowly turned the cigarette so the amber floated just centimeters from the back of your right hand. You slowly pressed it against your skin listening to the sizzle as it bubbled your delicate skin. You didn’t twitch or move to the sudden pain it Illuminated.

Instead you managed to display a small genuine smile.

The smell of burn skin hit your nostrils. You pushed harder until the cigarette was out completely, letting it fall from your hand.

Closing your eyes again you started singing softly to yourself.

( quick AN: Let’s stay together - Al Green)

Whatever you want to do

Is all right with me

Cause you make me feel so brand new

And I want to spend my life with you

You were talking about yourself

The familiar imaginary music beaming in your head. Your head stayed up against the cold brick, a sinful smile stretched ear to ear. Your arms laid stretched out to either side of your body Your voice cracking as you sung:

Oh baby

Let’s, let’s stay together

Lovin you whether, whether

Times are good or bad, or happy or sad

[alchemist-shizun]

About that Carry On Prinxiety AU

For now I laid out a bit of the plot, if you want to share some ideas just hit me up~

This is going to be a LOT to take on my shoulders but I will try and probably fail BUT TRYING IS KEYWORD (i really do believe in myself don't I? Everything under the cut!)

Since they all have their peculiarities, I'm gonna say that yes Virgil might be the Baz and Roman could be the Simon of this story, but I think either would fit for different reasons so they just have the same energy and will keep their own characterization. (If I'm able to not go ooc on this one wish me luck)

If I'm creative enough I'll try making an American school that is located in Florida, so that the characters know nothing much about what's happening in Watford and I can still make references without chronological contradictions.

Thomas could probably be the head mage too. I'm imagining him being very interested in the Normal culture and dressing like a Normal adult instead of the head of a great magical school, his "obsession" (kind of like Arthur Weasley's, if you will) is not really well-liked by most of the mages (especially the Old Fams), some believe that the students should have a better example instead of a man that always seems on the verge of leaving the magic world behind. The students, on the other hand, love him very much thank you. (yes even the ones whose parents insult him)

Oh my god I just had an epiphany: imagine Thomas obviously being in love with Disney and maybe Roman is very close to him so like he's talking about Virgil and Thomas just STRAIGHT UP STARTS SINGING SMTH LIKE THE MUSES' PARTS IN WON'T SAY IM IN LOVE OR LIKE THAT LION KING ONE AAAAAAAA and Roman is like ssss t o p but in the end joins in because he's w e a k (same)

Anyway for the main bois what I was thinking was that, with the prophecies about the Chosen One being there for a long time and them not knowing about Simon or anything, (this is becoming like Skam, there are many Snowbaz in the world) they just so happen to find in Roman an extraordinary amount of magic

Everybody is convinced Roman might be the Greatest Mage, the info flies out into the magical world of America but they decide to not share the info with other states. Roman gets very excited about this and works hard and trains himself in preparation for the big moment where he was going to have his big fight.

Virgil is his roommate (oh my god they were roommates), and of course, they can't stand each other at all. Virgil is definitely fed up with this story about the Chosen One, which Roman brings out in any possible conversation, so he uses it against him to tease him. Just imagine Roman bragging about something and Virgil being like "yeah but for a Greatest Mage you still haven't done anything so Great", or like Roman is having trouble with a spell or a subject? "Aren't you the chosen one?", Virgil only brings it up to make him mad and loves his flustered face. (keyword "loves" *wink*)

As much as I'm hopelessly in love with the idea of Vamp!Virgil (which would fit if he had Baz's role), I just had an angsty idea so I'm saving it for later c:

Hey how about a half-elf Virgil??? Anyone? Sorry I love elves

As for the time they spend together, they do the same thing as Simon and Baz, they avoid each other, spend time out of their room if the other's in there, make up different routines so they don't have to share anything and only really stay in the same room if they have to sleep. (idk why i said "if" like they don't need sleep)

Let me remind you that the beds are very close.

One time Roman woke up in the middle of the night and screamed in fear upon seeing a figure on the window.

It was just Virgil and he almost fell out, he would have probably smacked his head if it wasn't for the roommates' anathema or whatever it is called in english.

Virgil said he just couldn't sleep but he will never admit it was because of a pretty violent nightmare.

Roman does really think that he doesn't sleep at all and just uses his magic to stay awake judging by the dark circles under his eyes.

idk about you but I like the idea of Logan being something similar to Penelope, so Logan is Roman's best friend, they had met in the first year and Logan seemed one of the only ones who didn't approach Roman only because of his fame about being the Chosen One. Logan is simply amazing and brilliant at all subjects and surprises everyone since he's said to come from a family with weak powers.

Roman finds in him a very valid studying companion and he has to admit a lot of his best spells come from practicing/learning them from Logan. Also Logan loves explaining the stuff he's learnt, while Roman has this insatiable will to know everything to be able to defeat whatever bad guy will present in front of him. They basically become inseparable, despite having some friendly fights that are always solved with a snack break.

They !! deeply !! care !! for !! each other !!

Out of the other characters idk if Patton would fit anybody entirely, but I'm going to keep the 3v3 groups, so Pat will most likely be hanging out with Roman and Logan, he's actually very good friends with Virgil (none can escape Patton's friendliness) and tries to reason with Roman when he's mad about something Virge might have said. He's probably the reason why he hasn't killed Virgil yet. Patton doesn't come from a big family and lives with his grandmother when he's out of school. (I still have to develop this)

Forget about Dev and Niall and get ready for Deceit and Remus. I don't wanna give a headcanon name to Deceit bc I don't have one so he's gonna be a mysterious boy and everyone will call him Dee since it's the nickname I use for him. Both of them are two chaotic messes in their own ways. Dee, despite still being composed most of the times, is VERY fixated on his society discourses and arguments, he could come up to you one day out of the blue being like "so about the plan to overthrow the government" and you probably never even heard of it in the first place

JUST GIVE ME PASSIONATE DECEIT

Remus, on the other hand, messes a LOT with spells and you can see him traveling to the weirdest places. One day he was found trying to make the water creatures do a circus bit for him. People don't know how he's able to make his way through tests, but it's actually because he loves bugging Dee since he doesn't give the slightest shit about the weird things he suggests and they often end up studying together.

(I had the wildest thought thinking about Remus as Trixie)

Virgil, Deceit and Remus are what people call the "Untouchable trio", only because they come from the highest and oldest of the Old Families. They had been friends ever since kids since their Families met quite often, they never really fell apart despite being very different from one another. They're actually pretty chill people, it is only their surnames that make some people wary of them. They're not generally approached by anyone.

Idk if I wanna bring Emile and Remy in this, but I am tempted™, I'll think about it

So, Roman, am I right? Forgot to say he comes from a pretty big fam of hunters, they're the types of people that are lovable but won't hesitate to kill a bitch if needed.

But Purp, where's our creativitwins content? Thing is, yes they're actually brothers, but they were separated ever since kids for reasons none really knows? They never talk about it, even if asked to. They were given to two different families. They're aware of each other, but none has ever seen them interact. (I might find some angsty backstory on this just you wait)

Up until here Roman has always believed himself to be destined to the greater good, he's the chosen one, his destiny is the one to be the protagonist of the magic world and its hero.

At least that's what he thought until the fifth year.

One day during the fifth year, Virgil was doing homework on his room's table when Roman bursts in, louder than usual, and throws himself face-first on the bed, uncaring about ruining his hair or his clothes. That was an unusual sight since he never came into the room before evening or even before dinner. Virgil immediately knew something was wrong, but he didn't realize how serious the thing was.

So of course, he teases him a bit trying to get some info from him but only makes the situation worse. When Virgil calls him Greatest Mage as a joke, that's when Roman finally snaps at him in a way that Virge would have never expected. Roman really is enraged, yells at him and throws his pillow across the room since he can't hit him. He storms out of the room when he feels tears forming in his eyes, but can't really hide his sobbing as he goes away.

Virgil is just standing there, aware that he had just made Roman cry for the first time in his life and hated the sight with his whole being.

Roman had just learnt that he wasn't, in fact, the Chosen One, nor the Greatest Mage. Just an ordinary mage, like anybody else, who, in his opinion, had no other destiny than to finish school, find a job and just ... live?

So he's destroyed, all those dreams revealed themselves to be castles built in the air.

School is ending and Roman is just a bit numb, he's not really failing his classes but he's not as bright as ever. He barely leaves his room and doesn't talk to his friends as often, who are very concerned. Even Virgil tries to talk to him at some point. Thomas visits him when he has time and tries to work through the issue with him, but for the rest of the fifth year, there's nothing much to do to cheer him up.

Things seem to go back to normal as years pass and he's not in the spotlight anymore, none really talks about the Greatest Mage anymore and mages just carry on with their studies as they've always done. Everything's fine and normal.

And Roman hates it. But he's working in the shadow, so none notices his discomfort.

It only happens when he reaches the eighth year. It's impossible for Virgil to not recognize that Roman is slipping away at night and only comes back after some hours, either with dirty clothes or things tangled in his hair, he always came back different from when he left, meaning he definitely was wandering off outside.

One night he really can't stop thinking about how worried he is that Roman might get in trouble by himself, while he could probably prevent that, so he decides to follow him. Apparently, Roman is trying to find some kind of important and scary adventure to prove to himself that he's not as useless as he thinks himself to be, but Virgil still doesn't know this.

Virgil doesn't know what to do about the situation and decides to talk to Patton about it, in the end, the two of them decide to make a plan to talk to Roman with Logan, too.

On the other hand, Roman had been seen hanging out with Deceit or Remus, or both at the same time, trying to pry out information from them about how to get to certain forbidden spots of the school if he ever needed to. Surprisingly they don't ask many questions.

Chaos ensues when one night everything goes horribly wrong.

SO YEAH these are a bunch of things that I got right off the bat, I still have to think about the entire plot but don't want to spoil anything, basically the story would begin on the eighth year, just like Carry On, when Roman starts sneaking out. There might be things I need to fix but still I repeat that this is just a draft or a bunch of ideas that I got together somehow.

Tags: @soul-of-a-vixen & @flowersheep who wanted to know more about it~ (I'll write it as soon as I can!!)

[hajimeow-archived]

:)

AU and idea from this post

fandom: merlin

ship(s): merlin/arthur, morgana/guenevere

word count: 2106

—

it was arthur’s eleventh birthday tomorrow, he grew restless just thinking about it. oh, how much fun he and the town would have! the dancing, singing, celebrations, but best of all the gifts.

maybe this is the birthday my father will finally get me a puppy! oh, he couldn’t think of anything that would make him happier!

as he lie in bed on such a still, quiet night, it was not quiet to him, as his excitement filled the silent air with so many thoughts and and anticipations. even being snuggled under the covers, late at night with three bedtime stories only hours before, he was still awake with his thoughts.

and it was then, a tingle was on his wrist, the sensation seemed to draw shapes. at first it only tingled, but soon it began to burn, and soon the burning ran all through his arm. he held it tightly and cried silently, not wanting to wake anyone.

but that didn’t make sense, why are his wrists burning like they’ve been charred with fire? he was nowhere near fire. so, he decided to look at it.

he was young, but he managed to make out the odd, messy shapes that appeared on his wrist.

merlin.

—

over time, the shapes has morphed into neat letters that could easily be made out by any soul lucky enough to have learnt to read. arthur knew his luck, most people did not have the name of their soulmate on them because their soulmate could not write. of course arthur knew how lucky he was to possibly have a wealthy or even royal soulmate.

but this could not change one fact. the fact that merlin is a boy’s name.

“it’s okay, arthur. i know it’s hard, but merlin doesn’t have to be a boy. names truly have no gender, they could still be a girl for all you know,” morgana’s reassurance helped, especially since she had undoubtedly the name of a woman on her wrist as well, but arthur was a prince, soon to be king! he could not rule the kingdom with a man by his side, he’d be assassinated at best.

of course it would be easy for a farmer or any other low life to get away with loving the same gender, or even be accepted as such, but that is because nobody cares if they do. it says in the law that a king must rule alone or accompany a woman as queen, and though arthur could avoid this merlin for as long as possible, fate always brings soulmates together, no matter how hard one fights to get out of it. and that’s what scared him.

the only way to get out of being with another man was if merlin were to die, the name would change. it could change to a woman.

no, arthur, you cannot kill an innocent man.

he looked to morgana who sat beside him, looking down at her wrist. she never showed anyone her wrist, she only told arthur it was a woman, nothing else. he figured it would just simply be the name of some woman from another kingdom or someone they did not know of, but no. of course it couldn’t be so easy, because the neat print read guinevere in fine, bold letters.

he turned away before she got the chance to catch him.

“morgana?”

she looked up at him and made a small noise.

“i hate to say it but… morgana, i’m scared. what if my father sees my wrist? oh, i’ll never hear the end of it. arranged marriage this, disgrace that, where does it end?”

she sighs.

“i know, arthur. you’ll just have to hope you’ll be king by the time you meet them.”

the two sat in silence for one last moment, before a guard spoke from outside the door.

“supper time.”

—

after supper, the sun began to set. as arthur looked out his window silently, he appreciated the colors. the soft orange and pink, expertly blended together behind the tinted clouds and dark trees.

a burning on his wrist stole his tranquility. he watched in pain as the letters wrote themselves. they were written slowly and messily, almost like they were being carved into something. once the letters came to a halt, the pain stopped with it. of course, it read merlin, just like the rest. but this time it felt different. the pain lingered in a tingling sensation minutes after the writing stopped, only growing stronger with time. he thought of it too much, so he did the one thing he knew how.

he stood and left his quarters, headed for gaius’s.

—

arthur hesitated to open the door, remembering to knock, and so he did.

but it was not gaius who answered the door.

instead it was a boy his age with dark hair, pale skin and a smile on his face. arthur felt his wrist tingle to where it almost made his hand cramp.

“i assume you’re here for gaius? i’m merlin, nice to meet you,” merlin sticks out a hand. arthur hesitantly shakes it with his good hand, he feels like he can barely move the other. merlin.

“um… yes. i am,” arthur opens the door wider to walk inside without another word. gaius looked to be working on a remedy.

“gaius? gaius, i must speak with you, alone,” he glances back to merlin, who’s not paying even the slightest attention.

“what is it, sire? i’m quite busy.”

“please. it’s important.”

gaius sighs and stands to talk to merlin. arthur doesn’t tune in, too overwhelmed with his own issues. whatever gaius said, it got merlin to leave.

“what’s the issue, sire?” gaius sits back down. arthur follows and pulls his own chair closer.

“you promise not to rat me out to my father?”

“depends,”

arthur takes that as a no and shows him his wrist and shuts his eyes, aware that he’s shaking and sweating more than he’d like.

“oh…”

arthur pulls his sleeve back up and folds his arms insecurely. he could feel the tension and worry radiating from gaius without having to look.

“i’m sorry i ever told you, i just… i knew if i told morgana that i had met merlin i would never hear the end of it… im sorry, i know you know him well, i’m—“

“calm down, sire, you’ve apologized more times in one sentence than you have in your lifetime,” gaius took in a breath and looked down before continuing.

“merlin hides his wrist as well, but i’ve seen it. he does not know i’ve seen it, but i have. i always hoped it was a different arthur, and that it would not have to be this way, but of course i was wrong. i do not mind if you and merlin have a relationship but please, for the safety of you both, please do not let yourselves get caught,”

arthur sighed angrily.

“no, that’s not it. gaius, i only like women. i don’t understand, i must have the wrong person, but how could this happen?” he began to fidget and shake, all of his worries piling on at once.

“fate never makes mistakes, sire—“

“it must have this time, because if i am with a man my father will off me without a second thought. fate isn’t stupid, it would never mean to do this,” he said sternly and left. he hadn’t the energy for yelling today.

he began to walk slowly back to his quarters, not paying any mind when he passed merlin on the stairwell, however, merlin did that for him.

“arthur?”

“...how do you know my name?”

merlin shrugged. “lucky guess. would you like to join me?”

arthur knew he had nothing better to do. besides, his mind already made the choice of sitting with merlin for him. now that they sat closer than a foot or more apart, the tingling in arthur’s wrist was no longer a pain, but a nice, warm feeling. he longed to feel it forever.

“so why’d you need to see gaius in such a hurry? if it’s not personal,”

“it’s personal.”

merlin nodded. it was silent, until he spit out yet another question.

“do you have a name on your wrist too?”

“of course i do. almost everyone does. why?”

merlin shrugged. “i don’t know. i figured i was the only one, back in my village i was, anyway,”

“back in your village? why’d you leave?” arthur asked. he couldn’t help but take an interest in the boy. he assumed the name on his wrist was to blame. in any other circumstance, he’d be back in his quarters right now, trying to sleep but thinking too much to do so properly.

“i wanted to see if there was anyone else like me, and maybe if i could find the person on my wrist. would you like to see it?”

“see it?” arthur felt a bit shook, before remembering merlin was not from here. showing your wrist to people was not intimate or odd where he came from.

“yeah. actually, it’s the funniest thing, you know,” merlin pulled his sleeve up.

“i believe it’s you.”

—

arthur couldn’t sleep, all night. he got out of bed when the sun rose, not when he awoke. he would ask gaius for a remedy, but he didn’t want to be anywhere near merlin. not when he knew merlin was open to liking men. what if he made a move?

a soft knock sounded on the door. it was no doubt morgana’s. though still in his sleepwear, he opened it. he couldn’t be happier to see her.

“arthur? are you okay? you look as if you haven’t slept in a week,” she worried.

“i’m fine. come in.”

she did, closed the door behind her and lie on his unmade bed on her back with her hands on her stomach.

“you’re not fine. what’s happened to you?”

quick footsteps passed them in the hall, and with them, a pain shot into his wrist and through his arm. he could not hide it this time.

morgana gasped.

“is it merlin? he’s here, in camelot, and you’ve not told me??” she had a teasing smile on her face. this was bound to happen, he just didn’t think so soon.

“i… i didn’t know he was here!”

“oh, don’t lie, i know you better than anyone—“

“morgana, can you not talk about it?” he sighed and left the room after he’d gotten changed into something suitable. he was stopped by his father in the hall.

“i just dined with lady helen. she’ll be singing for us tonight and i want you to inform the people of the palace to be there tonight. understood?”

“yes, sire,”

—

arthur sat beside his father in the large group of people, anticipating lady helen’s song. he could spot merlin from the corner of his eye. he held his wrist tightly as it burned and pulsed. he wanted anything but this.

he didn’t realize the moment lady helen began her song. it was a beautiful, loving tune at first, but it began to lull him to sleep. the urge was so strong, it didn’t feel natural, but that didn’t stop him from closing his eyes.

merlin held his hands tightly to his ears upon seeing everyone fall into a deep sleep, cobwebs beginning to grow onto them and color starting to drain from the room.

her song grew louder as she pulled a dagger from her coat. merlin panicked. his eyes darted everywhere, until they landed on the chandelier above her, and he felt a forceful energy exit him and the chandelier fell.

he uncovered his ears and seconds after, the people began to wake, pushing the cobwebs aside. lady helen was now an old woman with frail, grey hair. she picked up the dagger and tossed it to arthur as if she were not being crushed under the weight of the chandelier.

it flew fast. without thought merlin jumped to pull arthur’s shoulder and off of the chair. the dagger pinned itself into the back.

arthur was stunned, looking at merlin and back at the dagger. he stood alongside merlin and as they did so, the king walked over.

“you saved my son’s life. a debt must be repaid,”

“ah, well—“

“no, don’t be so modest. you’ve earned yourself a position in the royal household. you shall be prince arthur’s manservant,”

as kind uther scurried off, arthur’s blood began to boil. he didn’t mind a servant. he did mind merlin as his servant.

“father—!”

arthur looked away from merlin with a burning face. he thought today couldn’t get any worse, now he just couldn’t wait for what layer of hell tomorrow will bring.

—

2106 words in one fucking sitting. willingly.

i’m starting to wonder if i’m ok.

[jamesdeerest]

dad-approved

PAIRING: fred weasley x muggleborn!reader

REQUEST: @im-eating-rn asked “Oh! What about Fred falling for his classmate who is best friend with practically everybody,she's really sweet and intriguing, and her dad is a toy maker, she's a muggle born and she always brings them something awesome.One day Fred and George coming home with roller skates "look what our fine best friend gave us dad, muggle skates" "those are actually roller skates" "cause they roll" Being best Bros with Arthur also, and him pumping Fred up to ask her out finally so she can join them for real,”

WARNINGS: probs swearin

NOTES: cuteeee requesttt ilyyy

WORD COUNT: 1.2k boii my fics are getting longer!! heres to actual story arcs lol

“Fred! George! Over here, guys!” you yelled from the other side of the Great Hall, waving the twins over. Once they approached, you chucked a box at Fred, laughing as he nearly dropped it, before he set it down on the table and opened it, pulling out... shoes? He looked at you, slightly puzzled. “Y/N, I appreciate the thought and all, but why did you get me shoes... is that wheels on the bottom?!”

You grinned at his excitement, before giving George his pair, Fred already ramming his feet into the roller skates. He beamed as he stood up, before his legs slipped, his arms windmilling as he clattered to the floor. Fred sat there, baffled, before valiantly trying, and failing, to get back up. This carried on for about five minutes, George soon joining him, you literally crying with laughter. Finally they both lay on the floor, defeated. You bent down to untie the laces on them, and the twins stood up, picking them up. Fred turned to his brother. 

“You wanna skip Potions and figure out how to use these?” George grinned and high fived Fred, nodding before turning to you and hugging you, mumbling a ‘thank you’ in your ear. Fred followed, although his hug lasted longer, and he kissed your cheek at the end of it, which came as a shock to both you and him. George wasn’t surprised at all, but soon got impatient, dragging Fred off by the arm to test out the skates. “You’re the best, Y/N!”

From weeks after that, it was a common sight to see Fred and George whizzing down the corridors, and a first-year swore he saw Dumbledore using them too. As Fred’s skating skills had been growing, so had his crush on you: he had been skating down the hall, saw you and crashed into a crowd of third years because he was so distracted. It was really becoming a problem, that was the fifth time that had happened. Thankfully, you hadn’t caught on yet, although Fred didn’t know how- he wasn’t exactly subtle.

After a couple weeks of Fred being a stuttering mess around you, it was approaching the Christmas holidays, and for the first time, you were staying at the Burrow for the festive season. You were over the moon to finally meet Mr and Mrs Weasley- they had been sending you jumpers for years now, but you had only heard Molly’s voice through the howlers she sent to the twins.

You were just pulling in to King’s Cross, and you shifted from where you’d been sleeping on Fred’s lap, rubbing your eyes as Fred grinned down at you. “Hello, sleepyhead.” You smiled lazily, stretching. “Sup, ginger ninja.” He snorted, shaking his head. “Never call me that again, L/N. Or I’ll have to bust out some of my snazzy ninja moves on you.” You laughed, before George kicked Fred from across the compartment. “Oi, lovebirds, we’re here. Quit making googoo eyes at each other, I can see Mum and Dad.”

Quickly sitting up, you refused to make eye contact with Fred, embarrassment burning your face. You stood up, mumbling an excuse about needing to talk to a friend, and grabbed your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder and hurrying out. 

Fred groaned, kicking his brother. “Arsehole.” George laughed, shoving him back. “Oh I’m sorry, were you having a moment?”

“Shut up, George!”

From the start, you hit it off with all the Weasleys. You already knew Percy, Ron and Ginny from Hogwarts, and had briefly met Charlie from your first and second year- Bill, however, was a new face, and you got on well. As soon as you met Molly, she suffocated you in one of her infamous bear hugs, and Arthur- well, it’s safe to say he liked you.

More often than not, you and Arthur could be found testing out some of your dad’s products. Arthur liked to enhance them magically- your personal favourite being when he charmed the space hopper your dad had sent you to go much higher, Ron nearly having a heart attack when he saw his dad above the house. You also liked to explain muggle things to Arthur, him fascinated with the most mundane things. On Christmas Day, you gave him a whoopee cushion, and when Harry came to visit he was convinced Arthur had a gas problem.

Of course, you got your Christmas jumper, with [initial] on the front, and you got all the Weasleys muggle chocolate, except for Fred and George. You got George a box, crammed with muggle pranks, and Fred? You wanted to get him something special. Shyly, you handed him a slim rectangular package, wrapped in golden snitch wrapping paper. He looked at you curiously as he opened it; he was expecting the same as George.

As soon as he saw the contents, he smiled- it was a photo of you and him on a broom, zooming around the Quidditch pitch, Colin Creevey taking the photo from the stands. He watched the two of you go round and round, you resting your head on Fred’s shoulder as you laughed, your hair blowing about in the wind.

He pulled you into a hug as Molly took it from him, wanting to get a look at her son and the girl he so obviously liked. 

“Do you like it?” you mumbled into his chest, nerves still coursing through you. He laughed into your hair, squeezing you tighter. “I love it, Y/N. Thank you.”

Molly stood up to put the photo on the mantelpiece, sharing a knowing look with Arthur- their boy was whipped.

It was the day before you headed back to Hogwarts, and the Burrow was a madhouse- everybody was running around, trying to pack. Arthur only had one thing on his mind, however- to talk to Fred.

Finally he cornered him in the kitchen, Molly having distracted you. Arthur sat down at the table with a cup of tea, looking innocently at his son. “So, you and Y/N, hm?” Fred flushed, shaking his head violently. “What? No. Me and Y/N- we’re not- I mean not that I wouldn’t want to- no. We’re not... just no, Dad.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow knowingly. “She’s a nice girl, Fred! We all like her, you like her, she likes you, why not?” Fred snorted, looking down. “She doesn’t like me.”

Arthur frowned. “Oh yeah? How do you know?” Fred laughed bitterly. “Just trust me on this one, okay?”

“Trust me on this one, Fred. Just- talk to her tonight, okay? For me. For your old man.” Fred groaned, grabbing his dad’s tea. “Fine. But I warned you it was going to go wrong.”

But it didn’t go wrong, if the kiss you shared that night was anything to go by. If the next few years of happiness were anything to go by. If that one night, that one wonderful night where Fred got down on one knee, and asked you to spend your life with him, was anything to go by.

It all went right.

aww i actually liked how that turned out!!

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

send an ask if you wanna be added to my taglist.

tags: @shadylittlewonder @blackpinkdolan @hoewkeye @sassy-specter @im-eating-rn @knowledgeisthebomb

requests are closed

[paulhudd]

Spindlefreck Book Two: Pt Six: The Witch’s Promise

In a private room in Harrisburg Hospital, PA: Emil felt good. The world was blissful and peaceful. His legs, pelvis and right arm were in plaster, his face was badly cut-up, but none of it bothered him at all: bless you Sister Morphine... so cosy and warm... then he heard the whispery-hubbub of female voices, the approaching squelch of rubber soles on vinyl flooring, the swish of nylons, the click-clack-clunk of stilettos – weesh-weesh ticka-tock, weesh-weesh ticka-tock, weesh-weesh ticka-tock... then loud, familiar voices, one of which started low and became a high-pitched screech, “Oh my God! Emeeeeeeel...”

Fran! Lovely Fran, my lover, my wife, my soulmate has come to see me...!

“Will ye look at the state of him!” cried a harsh voice in an Irish accent.

Oh, Jesus no.... she’s brought her mother. That’s all I need: Broom Hilda harshing my buzz...

(Hilda Laverty, formerly of Co. Clare but resident of Toronto since 1952, was the dictionary definition of a formidable woman. Like a quilted Sherman tank in a Thatcher-wig & pink twin-set, she was a controlling, dominating harridan who despised her son in-law with a passion bordering on outright hatred.)

His eyelids eventually peeled back and a pair of flesh-coloured splodges shone through the haze.

“Look -- he’s awake!!” He felt the right side of the bed dip as Fran sat close and took his hand, her tearful, tremulous voice spoke close to his ear, “Oh, Emil how could you... I mean, what made you do this... you could've been killed!! What is wrong with you?!”

Hilda Laverty didn’t give him time to answer, she had a ready reply, her accent getting thicker as her anger increased, “He’s a friggin’ hippy – that’s what’s wrong w’ ‘im!! All that dope he smokes has finally addled his brain! Drivin’ hundirts o’ miles in his jammies like a mental patient! It’s a bloody disgrace!”

Emil watched like a supine tennis spectator, his eyes swivelling left and right as the women bickered over the bed. “Mommy – I’ve had you in my ear for the last three freakin’ hours! Gimme a break!!”

Typically, Hilda ignored her and ranted on, “I bet he was as high as kite -- look at him there -- it’s a blessing from heaven that he hasn’t killed somebody!”

“MOM! Enough! I warned you...!” Fran shouted, then turned back to her husband and looked at him with beseeching eyes, “Oh, Emil... I knew you shoulda seen a psychologist after the first time!”

“Aye -- he’s finally cracked under the weight of a guilty conscience!!”

“Shh! He’s trying to say something!”

Emil spoke in a weak whisper, “I’m so sorry, Fran...”

“Don’t try to speak, I understand...”

“No... I need to say this...” He looked down at his long-term archenemy and yelled as best he could, “Blow it out yer ass Hilda!!” It hurt a lot, but it was well worth it just to see the expression on the old bag’s face.

That face was now puce with fury; it took her all of a minute to gather her dander and deploy the wagging finger, “Don’t think you can shock me or insult me, Emil Labatt, cuz I have heard it all before – it’s not me you’re hurting (points at Fran) -- it’s her!”

Fran stood up and tried to shout her down, “Mom this is neither the time nor place --”

But Hilda Laverty was intent on saying her piece. She’d been longing for the day when Emil Labatt would be incapacitated and at her mercy. She gripped the rail at the end of the bed and gave him both barrels: “This is Divine Retribution for all yer ‘extracurricular’ activities, me laddo -- swannin’ round thon campus like Don Juan, with yer ponytail and yer safari shorts and yer convertible sports-car, pickin’-up wee lassies who have more tits-than-wit!”

Fran tried desperately to intercede, “Mom – stop -- don’t make me --”  

But Hilda was in full flow – she’d been mentally rehearsing the tirade all the way from Toronto and nobody was going to stop her, “What about that redhead lab-assistant who had to have an abortion?! Or that psycho-bitch who stalked our Fran when you dumped her?! Or that wee blonde bit ye had a fling with in Ireland?!”

For once in her life Fran finally stood up to her mother; she jumped to her feet, stomped her heels, pulled her hair and bellowed at the top of her voice: “Mommeeee -– shut-the-f**k-up and GET OUT!!”

Hilda was thunderstruck. Her mouth opened and closed like a guppy at feeding time as her mind chewed it over. She looked at her daughter as if she’d just seen her for the first time, “What did you say to me...?”

For once, Fran did not waver; she pointed at the door and said, firmly, “Get out!! I mean it!”

“Why... how...” Hilda was saved from further humiliation by the arrival of an enormous black nurse in a capacious purple cardigan, who strode in and hissed in a loud whisper, “What in hell is goin’ on in here!” she said, hands on hips, her shiny black bob swishing to-and-fro as she looked from one to the other, “there’s sick folk tryin’ ta sleep down the hall! Now, y’all be quiet or I’ll haveta ask y’all to leave!”

Fran apologised profusely for the disturbance, then turned to her mother and said, “My mother was just going -- weren’t you, mom?”

Still fuming, Mrs Laverty lifted her handbag from the chair by the door, “We’ll talk later, my girl! I’ll be in the car!”

“Don’t bother waiting, I’ll get a taxi,” said Fran, icily, sitting down on the edge of the bed again, taking Emil’s hand.

Hilda turned the air blue, “Well f**k you, you stupid f**kin’ bitch -- don’t come cryin’ to me when he lets you down again -- and you, Labatt -- I hope you end up paralysed from the waist down -- that’d be poetic justice!!”

The big nurse watched Hilda stomp off down the corridor and shook her head “Well, I’ll be. She looks like such a nice, Christian-kinda lady, too...” she opined, shuffling out the room.

Fran took his hand in both hands and regarded him with pitying eyes. He squeezed her hand and whispered, “I am so sorry, Fran. I mean it. I don’t know what happened or what’s going on. I think I could have brain tumour or something...”

She leaned close, looked into his eyes and said, “Yesterday morning... when you had that look in your eyes, like a... a zombie, I should’ve known there was something deep going on. But after all the rows we’ve had, it never occurred to me you were having a breakdown.”

High and dislocated, Emil found this conclusion somewhat amusing. “Is that what you think this is? A breakdown? You think Hilda’s right? I’ve cracked under the weight of a guilty conscience...?” Then he saw a tear trickle down her cheek and sobered up. He squeezed her hand again and said, “I swear to you, I don’t know what this is or what’s happening to me,” he whispered, “but one thing I know for sure is it’s got nothing to do with you.”

She reached up, took a paper tissue from the box on the bedside locker and dabbed her eyes, “Things haven’t been the same since you screwed Paddy’s niece,” she said bluntly. The time for civility was long past.

He sighed heavily. She’d never forgiven him for that fling. After all the other little affairs he’d had, she’d stayed by his side -- more for the sake of her reputation and career than anything else -- but she hadn't mentioned his brief fling with Niamh since he confessed to it 2 years ago. She didn’t forgive him. She just went on with her life as usual without ever talking about it, even when he tried again and again to apologise. “I told you, it was the worst mistake of...” he froze midsentence and stared into space.

“What is it? You've got that look again! Oh God...” Fran groaned.

He snapped out of his trance, looked at her and gasped, “You’re right. You’re absolutely right!”

She frowned and shook her head, “What do you mean?”

“I mean I haven’t been the same since I got back from Ireland!”  

...

Meanwhile, at Pagham House, Co. Kildare: Dozing on the grass outside the pavilion, Broo entered another world.

He was standing in a heavy downpour among a crowd of restive peasants in the middle of a muddy, tree-lined country road. He quickly grasped that it was the road that ran by the gates of Pagham House -- but unlike the present day, it wasn't surfaced with tarmac and marked with white lines, it was just a dirt-track slashed with puddling wheel-ruts, reduced to mire in the torrential rain. To the right there were six soldiers wearing wigs, clad in red uniforms and armed with muskets, standing to attention before a flatbed-dray, the horse whinnying and restless – as if it sensed the tension radiating from the crowd. A bedraggled, shoeless man in a soiled white blouse and baggy black stockings stood barefoot on the flatbed, his hands tied behind his back, a noose around his neck, his long, sopping wet red hair clinging to his pallid face like silky kelp draped on a porcelain bust. A cowled executioner stood to attention beside the dray holding a hood, presumably to place over the condemned man’s head when the moment came. On the opposite side of the road, sheltering under the foliage of a row of yew trees stood a trio of men in long black robes and tall buckled hats, their heads bowed as if at prayer.

Despite the high drama and the appalling weather, the old dog wasn’t in the least perturbed; in fact, he wasn't even getting wet. By now he was well-used to these visions; he knew no one could see him and he wasn't in any danger. He was just an impervious, invisible observer. But why am I here?

The shortest man with the longest wig walked into the middle of the road and read aloud from a rain-spattered scroll: “Tobias Aloysius Farley, you have been tried and convicted of theft and intent to defraud the person of Thaddeus Arthur Ravenhill, 8th Duke of Roxborough and loyal servant of His Majesty King George III. You have been sentenced to be hanged by the neck until you are dead. Have you anything to say before you meet your maker?”

“Oh aye, I have summat to say!!” The condemned man straightened up, smiled a humourless, triumphal smile, as if he’d been waiting for this opportunity for a long time. He yelled at the tallest man under the branches of the beech - a tall, gaunt man with dark eyes, sharp cheekbones and an alabaster complexion that gave him the look of a reanimated cadaver, “Go to hell, Roxborough! For I’m certain Old Nick will have a special torment set aside for wicked men the likes of you!”

A low, appreciative hubbub ran through the crowd.

The condemned man looked around the crowd and spoke with authority and sincerity, “Heed my words, my brothers - not as servants or soldiers - but as men! Men with children of your own! Brothers, I tell you with hand on heart – the man you are about to hang is an innocent man! My only crime is that I know too much and I’ve said too much and now men of influence ‘ave pooled their resources to shut-me-trap once-and-for-all! Tis another dastardly deed to conceal a series of dastardly deeds -- devilish schemes perpetrated by this man -- deeds that are an affront to God Almighty Himself!”

The gaunt man broke ranks and strode across the road, “Enough of this man’s blasphemy and desperate lies!” He pushed the man with the scroll aside, shouldered his way through the soldiers and smacked the horse’s rump with his silver-headed cane –- the nag reared and tried to bolt, knocking the executioner over -- the condemned man slid off the dray, his feet kicked frantically as the rope tightened around his neck. Everyone gasped in horror as they watched the body swing and twist on the groaning limb. It jerked for a few seconds, shuddered, then sagged. The mud-caked executioner picked himself up from the mire, tore off his mask and glared at Roxborough with a hate-filled scowl, “A dying man is entitled to be heard! History will judge his words, Roxborough -- NOT YOU!!”

There were cheers and jeers now; cheers for the executioner’s candour, jeers for Roxborough’s actions. Sensing a little rebellion in the making, the duke ordered the soldiers to close ranks around him. The soldiers hesitated, loath to open fire on an angry mob, especially since they appeared to agree with the crowd’s objections. One of the men who’d been standing by Roxborough’s side commanded them to follow the order. When they resisted, the Duke, stony faced and imperious, walked among them and announced with a look of utter contempt on his face, “Remember who I am, gentlemen. And remember where you are...”  

Then, the swaying, hanged man looked down at Broo, his pale purple face streaming with rain and said, “Hey doggy --Wake up!”

“Wake up!”

Broo opened his eyes to see Charlie Noble, Pagham House’s Head of Security, standing over him. “It’s rainin’ -- why aren’t ye under cover, ye silly mutt?” The old dog wearily pulled himself up and headed back to the main house. As he crossed the cobble-stone courtyard, he was forced to stop to allow a silver Toyota 4x4 to drive in and pull up. There was an old woman wearing overalls and a headscarf sitting in the passenger seat and a pale young woman with long, silvery-blonde hair, behind the wheel. “There’s summat ‘ee don’t see every day, aun’ie -- a three legged dog!” tittered the silver haired girl.

The old woman looked at Broo and scowled, “’is nibs musta called ‘em after all. ‘E said ‘e would.”

“’Oo?”

“Ghost ‘unters. That dog is psychic. Must be ‘ere about the poltergeist thing. ‘Is nibs must be at the end of his tether,” said Mrs Sparkes, opening her door. “Thanks fer the lift, our Oona, there wuz no way oi coulda walked up ‘ere this mornin’, me leg is killin’ me...”

Still staring at the old dog, the young woman answered distractedly, “Don’t you worry none... aun’ie... Craigy wuz jast off noightshift... so oi were up anyway...”

“Well, tell Craigy oi’m sorry oi woke ‘im.”

The younger woman didn’t hear the remark and continued to stare into Broo’s eyes. After a moment, he began to feel something getting into his head, like an unwelcome thought was trying to get through...

The old woman looked from the girl to the dog, seemed to realise what was going on, and walloped the girl around the head, “Cut that out!” she shouted, angrily. The girl suddenly severed the budding connection, “Ooow!” she moaned, rubbing her head, but didn’t argue, as if she’d done it before. “Now get ‘ee on ‘ome, Oona Nevin, ‘fore I clout ‘ee again!” said Mrs Sparkes, struggling out of the car. On her way across the courtyard, she paused to have a closer look at him. After a moment’s contemplation, she bent down and said, “’Ee’s looked in the old mirror, ‘aven’t ‘ee, boy? 'Ee’s seen the children, ‘aven’t ‘ee?”

Broo, of course, could only stare back blankly, giving no indication that he could understand what she was saying, although her words sent a shiver through his pelt.

“Get ‘ee on ‘ome, Mr Dog. Soon as ‘ee can,” she whispered in a low voice with a cold smile, “cuz this ol’ house’ll eat ‘ee alive.”

As Mrs Sparkes walked to the tradesman’s entrance, the young woman drove around him, her eyes locked on his as she turned in a circle; when the car was facing in the direction of the drive, she stopped and wound down the window so she could get a clear view without rain streaming down the glass. He began to get that strange feeling in his head again -- until the old woman screamed, “Oona!! Go HOME!!” and snapped them out of their trance. The young woman glowered at him, wound up the window and sped off.

That was almost a telepathic intrusion! Is she psychic?! What is going on here?! ‘This house’ll eat you alive’...? He was very worried now. Oh, c’mon Malky, get up so we can get out of this place...

 2 hours later: Malky was awoken by a firm knock on the door. He stirred, opened his eyes and looked up. “JESUS!” He jumped when he saw his reflection in the mirror overhead. He was not a pretty sight: unshaven, pale and puffy-eyed.

Knock-knock. “Are you OK, Mr C?” said Herbie, opening the door a crack, “Can I come in? Are you decent?”

Malky sat up and groaned, “C’mon ahead, Herbie, I ain’t got nuthin’ you haven’t seen before...”  

“... as the porn star said to the Pope!!” Herbie quipped, bringing in a silver tray with a slice of melon and a tumbler of freshly squeezed orange juice. He was bright ‘n’ breezy, dressed in his chauffeur’s uniform, all sparkly buttons and shiny boots, “It’s jast gawn eight firty, Mr C, an’ if you’s feeling up-to-it you’s welcome to join me ‘n the staff fer breakfast in the kitchen?”

With the bitter aftertaste of strong coffee still in his mouth, Malky took a gulp of juice, swilled it around his mouth before swallowing, “I don’t think so, Herb, not feelin’ too good,” he said, rubbing his tummy.

Herbie went to the console at the side of the bed and pressed the button that opened the curtains, “Befowah you awsk, our young master Kris ain’t up yet, what wiv the ol’ jet-lag ‘n bein’ up all night it’s unlikely we’ll see ‘im ‘fore we leave.” He went to the window and looked out, “An’ your best pal won’t be joining us neever, I’ve awsked him –- I tried to tempt him wiv bacon, bat ‘e flatly refuses to come in the ahse. I fink ‘e’s anxious to leave.”

Pulling on his pants, Malky hopped over to see; sure-enough, there was the old dog was sitting, watching the window from the top of the marble steps. It was raining heavily and the old dog was sopping wet. Malky raised the sash and called out, “Hey! Come in and get yer breakfast!”

The old dog sat where he was and didn’t as much as twitch.

“Then at least go ‘n sit under a tree?!”

The old dog stayed where he was and barked: Can we go home now?

“Och, he’s probably homesick...” Malky began to say, before a feeling of nausea hit him, “and talkin’ of feelin’ sick... Eeeuuugh...”

“Wossup?” asked Herbie, concerned, “gotta dicky belly, ‘ave ya?”

“Me guts’re doin’ somersaults... said Malky, turning a light shade of green. If I didn’t know better I’d think it was hangover...”

“Drink too much coffee last night, didja?” Herbie chuckled, “Charlie went dahn to the pavilion to lock-up this mornin’ ‘n ‘e said the machine wuz empty!”

The mention of the coffee set him off, “Here I go –-” mumbled Malky, making a run for the en suite.

Herbie shouted after him, “Lissen -- you get dressed and I’ll go dahn an’ fry-ya-up my breakfast special -- toast, a bit o’ black-puddin’ and wiv ‘ash-brahns an’ eggs in Worcester sawz - that’ll put ya back on yer plates!”

Malky threw up loudly.

“Well, maybe not...” said Herbie, smiling to himself as he picked up the tray.

 “So-oo, what’s the beef, chief?” Malky asked, gingerly staggering down the marble steps carrying his overnight bag, “why didn’t you come back to the house with us last night?”

Broo was too distressed to react. The rain had faded to a misty drizzle, but not so misty as to obscure the awful truth. He still has the aura. It wasn’t as strong as the grandson’s, but he could still see it and feel it: physically deadening and psychically inhibiting. Malky is infected! He whimpered and backed up.

“Look, I’m sorry you hadda sleep outside, but we couldn’t wake you, so we let you sleep...” said Malky, misreading Broo’s reaction, before doubling up and retching.

Broo was very alarmed now. It’s so bad making him physically ill! We must get out of here!

Then they heard footsteps crunching on the gravel behind him, but instead of going to the Rolls, he approached them with a look of trepidation on his face. He pushed back the brim of his cap, “The boss is awake and ‘e wants to tawk to ya before you go... would that be OK?” he said, apologetically.

“I’ve nothing to say to ‘im, Herbie.” Malky replied, shaking his head.

Herbie sighed, looked down at his boots and said, “‘E wants to fank you personally for what you done lawst night. ‘E’s still in bed, bat ‘e’s sober an’ of sahnd mind.”

Malky straightened up and had another bout of light-headedness; and again, Herbie had to lend a helping hand, “You ain’t lookin’ any better Mr C...”

Broo yipped, getting evermore anxious by the second.

“Stop fussing! I’m fine...” Malky lied, wincing, “I’ll go talk to Laphen, and as soon as I’m done, we’ll go home, OK?” he patted the old dog’s head and walked back up the steps with the bemused chauffeur, “You an’ ‘that ol’ doggy certainly are a pair, aintcha!”

As soon as Malky’s palm touched had his head, Broo got that same debilitating feeling he got when the grandson touched him the day before: physically drained, psychically blocked. Will this ever end?! He whimpered.

 When they entered the room, Malky was very surprised to find the little old man propped up on plump, ivory satin pillows in a huge four-poster bed. He looked well-groomed, his eyes were clear, he seemed calm and composed as she sipped a cup of lemon tea from a dainty china cup with his little finger crooked, his bony little hands as steady as a rock: whatever Rossington had given him, it’d worked a treat.  “I want to thank you for everythin’ you’ve done, Mr Calvert,” he said, in a cheery voice.

Malky shrugged, “We didn’t find anything.”

“You’re sure? There’s nothing here?”

“Nuthin’ spooky, no.”

Smirking, Laphen nodded and said, “That’s all I needed to know. Now I can concentrate on catching the real culprit.” He gave back the cheque for £7500 that Malky had thrown in his face the night before.

Malky didn’t want it, but took it for Zindy’s sake, “I can’t say it’s been a wonderful experience, Mr Laphen, but it’s been worth it to make the acquaintance of Kris. That kid is an absolute diamond and you should be proud of --”

Laphen put up a hand and stopped him, “Before you start to extol the virtues of my grandson, will you indulge me?” He got out of bed and slipped his feet into a pair of giant yeti-boots-style-slippers. Herbie helped him on with his red satin dressing gown. Just then there was a knock at the door and an old woman in overalls entered pushing an ornate antique silver trolley. He recognised her from Kris’ description: Pagham House’s indomitable, sour-faced housekeeper, Mrs Sparkes. “’Ere’s ee’s breakfast. There’s bacon ‘n’ eggs ‘n’ kipper,” she grumbled, lifting the cloche, “Oi didn’t know ‘ow you wanted ‘em done, so oi did two boiled, two froied ‘n two poached, so ‘ee can work it out fer yerself.”

“Yes, thank you Mrs Sparkes, put it on the table and bugger off,” said Laphen, offhandedly waving her away.

“And don’t ‘ee get egg on the chairs,” she grunted, on her way out.

“You can go too, Herbie,” he said, “I’ll buzz when I need you.” Herbie gave Malky a sly wink and followed Mrs Sparkes out of the door. Laphen went to the table at the back of the room, sat down and uncovered the platter; he shook out a napkin and put it on his lap, a picture of elegance and sophistication, apart from the yeti-boot slippers. Malky followed him and sat on an antique ottoman adjacent to the dresser, 6 or 7 feet away; the minute his arse hit the velvet, he sighed with relief; then the smell of the eggs hit him and his belly flipped again.

Laphen poured himself a cup of coffee, “Coffee?”

“God no!” Malky moaned, holding his breath.

“Are ye alright, ye look terrible,” said Laphen, as if he cared.

“I just wanna get out of here...”

“Herbie tells me Kris took you round the East Wing,” said Laphen, buttering a slice of toast.

“He was great, it was very... enlightening.”

“Hmm. When he was a kid he used to explore every nook ‘n cranny of this place. Up to all sorts, he was,” said Laphen, in a suspicious tone, “you couldn’t watch him.”

“Well he was very knowledgeable, very helpful,” said Malky, fading.

Laphen sat forward and looked Malky in the eye, “Look, the boy is trouble. Always has been. He’s a compulsive liar, so-he-is. That’s the only reason I keep him close, not because he’s wonderful company, but because if he’s left to his own devices somebody’s liable to get hurt.” He went back to his breakfast, “He’s a skilled manipulator and he’s got yez all wrapped around his wee finger. But not me, oh no.” He reached into his dressing gown pocket and produced a small oblong box. “This is a voice-activated digital tape recorder. I had Charlie stick it under the table in the coffee bar when he went over to turn on the power.”

Malky was affronted, “You mean...”

Laphen shook the little recorder, “Yes, I heard every word.” He pressed the little play button:

“... When I look at him now I know I’m looking at myself in 60 years time, cos that’s probably what I’ll look like if I live that long. But I won’t end my days like him, alone in a mansion miles away from his family, abandoned by his estranged kids. My grandfather is nothing if not a walking cautionary tale.”

“What the ....” said Malky, unable to adequately express his outrage without throwing up, all he could manage was a feeble croak, “...what gives you the right to tape us?!”

“My property, my prerogative, I can do what I like. And Kris knows it, too,” he said, confidently, “in fact he knew I’d be listenin’ ‘n put on that wee performance to get at me. That’s what he’s like. The spiteful little bastard...”

Feeling bewildered, betrayed and used, but mostly very sick and tired, Malky laboriously got to his feet and used all his strength to give out one last time, “How’s this for a performance!” He tore-up the cheque and sprinkled the pieces over Ollie’s eggs, “for the second ‘n last time - goodbye  Ollie! I hope you get what’s coming to you!” and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Outside the door, Malky all-but collapsed; he put his back against the wall and slid down until his arse hit the floor. Herbie, who’d looking out of the large oriel window at the end of the landing, saw him and came running. “You look like deff-warmed-up, Mr C. I dunno wevver to take ya ‘ome or take ya to casualty!” he said, putting Malky’s arm around his shoulder.

“Home, please, Herbie. If I’m gonna die, I wanna do it in me own bed,” Malky gasped, struggling to walk down the stairs, “don’t take this the wrong way, but most of all just wanna get outta this f**kin’ house...”

Meanwhile, at Odin’s Inn, Brodir, Co Wicklow: Zindy had been up-and-at-it since 5:30AM.

She struggled into a pair of black leggings, to hide her bump, she put on the most voluminous garment she could find –- namely an XXXL ZZ Top Eliminator tee-shirt that used to belong to her hulking ex -- put on her motorcycle boots and wriggled into Malky’s manky overcoat (looking like Dopey from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs sans nightcap). She crossed her fingers under her cuffs, went out to the yard and tiptoed around the old van as if she was silently sizing up a sparring partner. “Now, I have lavished love on ya. I’ve cleaned your sparks, oiled yer pistons, greased yer nipples. All I ask is an 18 mile-round-trip. Get me there and back and ye can ‘ave the rest of the week off – eh – ‘ow would that be, eh?”

The van remained inscrutably silent.

“OK then, ‘ere goes...”

Lifting the tails of the coat, she got in making sure not to rock the suspension; she said a silent prayer and gently put the key in the ignition, took a deep breath and turned it:

Pfft.

Nowt. Try again.

Harrumph.

Pause... She prayed again and tried doing it slowly.

grumblelumblelumberrrrrrr

Hmmm, ‘... again, but faster...

FruummmmmmmmRRRRRRRRRRRRRRMMooooMMMMMMMMMMM......PUTTAPUTTAPUTTAPUTTAPUTTA

“YES!” she yelled, as the engine burst into life. Monday blues? Not a bit of it! She got out, pulled the tee-shirt over her head and sang Simply the Best while doing a little victory-dance around the yard. Then something suddenly struck her. She slowly stopped her little jig, pulled the coat from her eyes and looked up.

The parapet of the yard wall was lined with cats. They were on the kitchen roof and the coal bunker – cats of every breed and size. Just like that night McKee kidnapped her and killed Sammy. Cats seemed to turn- up when something wicked was going down. What do they want now? Were they there to warn her? What gives? She kept an eye on them as she carefully got back in the van and drove off, little knowing that when she returned, not only would the cats be gone, there wouldn’t be an animal within a twelve mile radius...

 Utterly bereft, Sammy stood at the parlour window and watched the van drive down the strand, his Essence troubled, his Aspect dim. He’d seen the cats in the backyard – confirmation that things were about to change. “See? The cats and birds always first to know,” said the boy in the mirror above the mantelpiece, “now will you believe me?” The face in the mirror belonged to a fine-featured, fair-skinned blonde aged 12 or 13 sent to convince him for the last time to go to Limbo before Malky got back. The boy made it clear he didn’t like being in the Mirror World one little bit, he was jumpy and kept looking around as if he was scared, “Look,” he said, losing patience, “Go to Limbo! - because if you don’t exist at all – you’ll be even more useless than you are now!!”

“But how do we know if this ‘darkness’ or ‘badness’ -- or whatever-ye-may-call-it -- won’t harm Zindy or the child she’s carryin’? I mean to say...” said Sammy, pacing the mat in front of the hearth, “you can’t gimme an answer to that question.”

“I told you the Powers That Be just told me to get you to go to Limbo. You don’t argue. They’re always right.”

Eventually Sammy’s shoulders dropped and he gave in. The face in the mirror closed its eyes and sighed with relief, “Please go now. I’ll wait.”

Sammy obediently closed his eyes, held his nose and dropped through the floor like a man jumping feet-first into a septic tank. The mirror misted like over like a windscreen on a wet day, but in this case the film of condensation was on the inside; and as it slowly evaporated, the usual reflection of the living room gradually materialised in the glass...

...

15 minutes later, on the road to Arklow: The radio was fooked so she chatted to her bump as she chugged along the bumpy back roads, “Mummy’s still got it kiddo! And your daddy said I was wasting my time – pah! What does he know, anyway? I’m the handyman in our house! You might inherit my powers! If you’re a girl ‘n you anything like me, you might be a bit of a tomboy. But if you’re into dolls ‘n girly stuff, that’ll be OK, too. If you’re a boy -– we’ll get dirt bikes and tear up the hills! If you’re musical - we’ll get you an electric guitar!” The spell of exuberance lasted all the way to the market in Arklow; she left the motor running and collected the standing-order ASAP -- but when she reached the DIY store she had no choice but to say another silent prayer and turn off the engine.

Afterwards, when loading the cans of emulsion into the back of the van, she once again got behind the wheel went through the little ritual, but just as she feared, the engine was dead. She did everything she’d done before, but the van flatly refused to respond. “You’re not even trying!” Throttle-out, throttle in; each twist of her wrist produced a whining sound as if the van was screeching killmekillmekillme. To make matters worse, drops of rain were pattering on the windscreen and drumming on the roof. “Fook! Bugger! bollocks!!” she cried, pounding the steering-wheel with her little fists. All the optimism and good cheer evaporated, she slumped in the seat and mithered, “I’ll have to phone for a f**king tow-truck now! Shite!” She was just about to get out and have a look under the bonnet, when she glimpsed movement in the wing-mirror: someone was headed her way. Her efforts had attracted the attentions of a Good Samaritan. She watched the figure approach in the ing mirror with some degree of resentment and grumbled, “’ere we go. A Knight in fookin’ shinin’ armour is comin’ to help a damsel in distress...”

The man tapped on her window. She wound it down and almost yelled, “Look mate, unless you’ve got a carburettor for a 1978 Ford Escort van, you can...”

She stopped talking when the guy took off his shades (‘oo wears shades on a day like this?) and she realised she was looking into a pair of very familiar eyes in an unfamiliar face. A familiar voice said, “You were gonna tell me to eff-off, werntcha?!”

Zindy was agape; her stomach flipped, her heart thudded in her ears; when she finally caught her breath, she gasped: “Raspo...?” He was completely transformed: the long plaited purple beard was gone, revealing a ruggedly handsome clean-shaven face with a cleft chin; his long grey hair tied back in a ponytail, creating a silver-streaked widow’s-peak; he’d forsaken his well-worn leathers and biker boots for a black reefer-jacket, blue jeans and Cuban-heeled cowboy boots. The most astounding thing was his shape; gone was the humungous beergut, gone was the enormous arse, he looked slim and fit. The only sign of the old Raspo was the blurry-blue spiderweb tattoo on the back of his left hand.

She couldn’t adequately express her surprise, “You’re so... so...?”

“Handsome? Intelligent? Sexually attractive...?” he said, that familiar gold tooth glinting in that familiar smile.

She tried not to sound impressed, “No... I mean ... it’s quite a transformation, to say the least. When you were with me the most exercise ya got was openin’ the fridge and pullin’ the tab on a can.”

He stood back, opened his jacket and let her get a good look, “Solitary confinement and a set of weights will do that to a man. I’ve lost 7 stone! I can see my toes now!” He slowly pulled up his roll-neck sweater to reveal his heavily tattooed torso, “Beer barrel to six-pack in 4 years -- not bad for a 57 year-old slob who never walked-the-length-of-himself, eh?” He put his hands on his knees and stooped, his grey-green eyes twinkling as he looked at her hair, “I see you’re a pinkhead now. Very becoming. And you’ve put on a bit of weight, too. Suits you. In fact, you’re still wearing my old clothes, I see...”

Zindy blanched and instinctively crossed her arms over the bump and told him what she thought of him. “So they shaved 3 years off your sentence for squealin’, did they?!  I wouldn’t know, see, since I ain’t a rat-fink-coont.”

Raspo threw back his head and laughed heartily before answering, “Am I to assume that I’m not exactly flavour of the month in Brodir? You ‘n the boys still mad at me, eh?”

“I haven’t seen ‘em since you grassed-‘em-up. The raid was so bad I hadda close the place up and renovate. Thanks for that,” Zindy snarled.

The winning smile vanished, “I didn’t squeal on me mates, just those bastards from abroad. It’s a shame our lot got caught in the crossfire, but in the end none of them was charged. I told Somerville to take it easy on them.”

Zindy recoiled and shook her head as if she couldn't understand what he was talking about and said, “Smokestack lost so much blood they had to do a transfusion -- Little Ted got a fractured skull! Marcus is blind in one eye from flyin’ glass! Not to mention the damage done to their bikes!”

Raspo made no attempt to justify or defend his actions he just stared at the ground and took his medicine like a big boy.

“What gets me is there wasn't a word of warning -- I visited you every week and you never said a word! Not a bloody word. You sat there, looked me in the eye 'n told me to arrange that Halloween party without the slightest hint of what was gonna ‘appen! The first I knew about it was when the riot squad kicked-in t’door ’n gave me customers a leatherin’ -- it wuz like a friggin’ warzone!”

Raspo had stopped grinning halfway through the harangue. His face became solemn, the heavily-lined brow vexed with concern, when he answered, there wasn't a hint of irony, “I’m really sorry, but Somerville made me an offer I couldn't refuse. And when-all’s-said-and-done, the men I gave up were murderers, kidnappers, pimps, Nazis and many other things besides. So f**k ‘em.” He regarded her with a pained expression, “You know me, Zin, I can’t be caged, I can’t be locked up... stuck lookin’ at the same four walls day after day, eatin’ the same auld shit, havin’ to cohabit with rapists, perverts and paedos.” He looked her in the eye, “Cuz that’s where they put you when you turn states’ evidence, Zin: the ‘secure wing’. So on top of everything else I hadda live with the worst kind of scum -- I used to beat the shit outta them just so’s I could spend some time in solitary to get me head straight.”  

For a second she remembered why she loved him. The timbre of his voice combined with the accent, the same voice she found so irresistible in the first place, so deep and melodic... then her common sense kicked in. She pulled the coat tight around her and stated with conviction, “Robert (she only ever called him Robert when she was really mad at him), you looked me in the eye ‘n lied to me every day of our relationship; you treated me like a wee queen, ‘n meanwhile you’re this fookin’ gangster dealin’ smack to kids ‘n cuttin’-‘em-up when they couldn't pay -– then, when yer caught in the act, ye shop yer mates to get a commuted sentence!” She shook her head, “To think that’s the guy I shared a bed with all them years! Makes me sick to me stomach!” she said, glowering, “Now kindly get yer arm off me roof and stay the fook outta my life.”

He put up his hands and made a show of backing off. She wound up the window and instinctively turned the key in the ignition. The engine coughed and died again. In the heat of the moment, she’d forgotten her predicament and now, on top of everything else, she looked stupid. Raspo didn’t gloat or make fun; he kept a straight face and said, “Pop the hood. I think heard somethin’. I think I might know what yer trouble is.”

Of course you do. Raspo was, like her, a mechanical wizard. He could have engineered the engine-trouble while she was in the store, just so he could weave his magic and get on her good side. Unfortunately, (or should that be surprise, surprise?) on this particular occasion, his powers appeared to have deserted him. He slammed down the bonnet and went back to the window, wiping his hands on a crumpled paper-tissue, “Nah, the carburettor’s completely knackered.”

“Brilliant. Tell me summat I don’t know.”

He wiped his hands with a crumpled paper tissue, “Look, I’m here in a mate’s Transit -– there’s a length of rope in the back. I could tow you home...?”

“Oh wouldn't that be cosy, you’d like that wouldn't you!” She might be in a tight spot, but she wasn't buying The New & Improved Raspo Canning. She wound the window down a few inches and spoke through the crack, “I know yer game, Raspo. This is just too much of a coincidence. Too convenient.”

“OK, OK, just tryin’ to be helpful.” He shivered and pulled his jacket tight around his shoulders, “I’ve got a warm flat and an even warmer woman to go home to, why should I waste my time standin’ in the rain talkin’ to a hellcat?”

She arched an eyebrow.

He knew that look, “It’s true -- that’s why I’m here -– we’re decoratin’ the kitchenette and I borrowed a neighbour’s van to collect some wall-tiles and a new sink,” he pointed at a white van parked by a trolley-shed at the far end of the car park, “you can go and look if you like!” He jangled the keys.

Zindy looked away, “I ain’t goin’ anywhere in a van w’ you! In fact, I ain’t goin’ anywhere with you...” she said, wincing as a wave of nausea came over her.

“I’m not tryin’ to pick-you-up or pick-up where we left-off, I‘m only tryin’ to do you a favour!”

Zindy’s resolve was severely tested, her curiosity piqued: who is this new woman? Where is this flat? “I’m glad to hear you’re settling down,” she said, sarcastically.

Raspo smiled and said, “Thank you,” then nonchalantly commented, “it looks like you’re settlin’ down, too.”

Another pang -- this time her stomach turned over, “Erm... uh, whaddya talkin’ about...”

“I saw you in the store – you’re pregnant, aren’t ya?” He took a step forward and looked at her bump, “or have I just said the worst thing a man can say to a woman who’s put on a bit of weight...?”

She succumbed to an unstoppable wave of morning sickness. She quickly pulled down the window with both hands, leaned out and puked all over his Cuban-heeled cowboy boots.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then...”

...

5 minutes ago, 47 miles west: “Stop! –- here comes the rest!”

Herbie slammed on the brakes for the second time. Malky lurched out of the car and ran for the bushes. Sitting on the backseat, Broo whinged and whined as he watched his partner projectile-vomit into the roadside briars -- the misty aura wasn't weakening the further they got from Pagham House -- in fact, it seemed to be getting stronger!

“My, my,” said Herbie, tutting, “yer pal is very sick, ol’ boy. I wouldn't be surprised if that li’l session last night puts ‘im off coffee fer life!”

Broo whimpered and wheezed with alarm: Why is this happening?! Is this permanent condition?! I can’t live like this!!

...

15 minutes later, in a little transport café opposite the DIY store: Zindy still wasn't comfortable in his company, but it was raining and there was nothing she could do. They sat facing each other at a table by the window, Raspo, utterly at ease, sitting back, legs stretched, his arm draped over the back of his chair; Zindy trying her best to look indifferent though her insides were churning, sat with arms crossed across her bump and let him do most of the talking. First item on the agenda was an old acquaintance they weren’t likely to ever forget.

“That was a total head-f**k about Barry, wasn't it? Killing kids? Did ye ever?!” said Raspo, disconsolately, shaking his head with disbelief.

“Och, c’mon, McKee was always a creep,” she said, curling a lip, “he was too quiet, always goin’ off on his own and keepin’ ‘imself to ‘imself. He wasn't really one of the lads.”

Raspo shrugged, “I used to put up with him cos I felt sorry for him, and yer right, most of the lads hated him on sight: Little Rich Boy who dreams of being a Bad Boy; we got ‘em all the time. Most of ‘em didn’t get past the initiation, but Barry did. He took it all without sayin’ a word or screamin’ in pain, so he had a bit of cred. I was very impressed by ‘im.”

She baulked, “We are talking about the same bastard ‘oo killed poor Sammy, kidnapped me and shot me, are we? Cuz this is startin’ to sound a lot like a eulogy!”

“None of us are good people, Zara (he only ever called her Zara when he was lecturing her). I know at least 10 guys from different gangs –- people who you’ve been introduced to -- that’re Nazis with criminal convictions for rape and possession of obscene material very, very likely to offend. Let’s put it this way, just cos they don’t have horns and cloven hoofs, doesn’t mean they don’t froth at the mouth every time Romper Room comes on.”

She was genuinely shocked. “Bloody hell! Thank God I’m out of it!” she cried.

“Well then, you can’t blame me fer wantin’ them locked-up, can ye?” he replied.

There was a pregnant pause. Zindy looked out of the window; Raspo idly stirred his coffee,

“We had some good times though, didn’t we?” he said, smiling nicely.

She wasn't biting, “When I turned 40 I looked back ‘n realised ‘ow much time I’ve wasted in cop-shops and law-courts over the years, and I vowed to meself that my life would begin with a clean sheet. And y’know what? I’m happier than I’ve ever been! I’m ‘avin’ a baby with a great guy – there are developers lookin’ at the town, so things are looking up on the business front -- ‘n best of all -- there’s no two-faced cut-throats around to f**k things up!”

He sat back and made an offhand comment, “I hear the father’s Malcolm Calvert, the guy that caught Barry. Well, him ‘n ‘is three legged dog... Ex-RUC isn't ‘e...?”

She took her time answering; is he threatening me? “This has got nuthin’ to do with Malky! I’d already washed my hands of you when we met,” she said, a little shaken. “Anyway, how do you know about him?”

“We do have newspapers and TVs on the inside, y’know,” he said, matter-of-factly, “I saw him comin’ outta the hospital after he was shot. He looked like a frail old man.”

“He’s fully recovered! He has a heart condition, but he takes plenty of exercise...” She shook her head emphatically, “Why the fook am I justifying myself to you of all people?! It’s none of yer fookin’ business what I do or ‘oo I’m with!”

“Don’t have a haemorrhage, Zin. I’m just makin’ conversation.”

Zindy rubbed a space in the steamed-up window with the cuff her jacket, and looked out, then gazed anxiously at the grease-smeared Coca Cola clock behind the counter. “What’s keepin’ that bloody truck?” she muttered.

Raspo looked at his watch, “Yeah, I should be gettin’ back, meself. She’ll be wonderin’ what I’m at.” She croaked a mirthless cackle and made the whip-crack sound. He shrugged and got serious again, “Um, there is somethin’ else, as a matter of fact: my bike. I’d like to get it back.”

“Oh, NOW it makes sense,” she chided in a sing-song sneer, “NOW we’re gettin’ down to the nitty-gritty, yes indeedy-do -- your precious wheels! Yer beloved bike! I wondered when that would come up!”

An eyebrow was raised. “It’s still there, isn't it? Hasn't been damaged at all?”

“I might wanna cut your eyes out with your own blade, but I’d never take my anger out on an innocent hog,” she said, “it was impounded after Barry stole it, but I got it back a year ago, reasonably unscratched. Yer lucky he didn’t wreck it like he wrecked everythin' else. Between the two of yez, you’ve fooked-me-over good-‘n-proper.”

Raspo sighed with relief, “I knew you wouldn't neglect her. Good job too, cuz I’m gonna sell ‘er and move to America. I’ve got contacts there and they’re gonna set me up in business. I just need a wee lump sum to get me there and the bike is my only asset. I hope to get at least a couple of grand for it. That’s why we’re decorating. We wanna sell the flat ‘n get over there ASAP.”

She snorted, “You've got a conviction for dealing drugs and violence – you’ll never get a visa...” He put a finger to his lips to and told her to pipe down. She leaned closer and hissed in an angry whisper, “There’s no way you they’ll let you in, soft-lad,” then she thought twice, slapped her forehead with the heel of her palm, “Of course, silly me- you won’t be usin’ the ‘proper channels’, will ya?!”

He looked at his finger nails and conceded, “The main thing is it’ll put an ocean between me ‘n my enemies.”

“That’s another thing – aren’t you takin’ a big risk hangin’ round these parts? What if somebody round ‘ere recognises ya?! No skin of my nose, la, but aren’t you askin’ for trouble?”

“Well, you didn’t recognise me, did ya?! I walked past you three times in the store and you were none-the-wiser.” He shrugged, “Somerville told me it’d be in me best interests to leave the country ‘n I agreed.”

In perfect synchronisation, they lifted their mugs, drank deeply and stared at each other for a moment. He smirked. She scowled. She was the first to break the silence: “How long have you been out?”

“Six weeks today.”

“And you found a new girlfriend in six weeks?”

He smiled, “She’s the daughter of an auld lag who died inside. Our eyes met across a crowded visitors’ room, and when her da passed away, we arranged to meet up when I got out. She’s a divorcée... sweet, easy goin’ girl, and she’s keen to make a new start.”

“With you?” she cried, greeting the information with some hilarity, “She doesn’t know what she’s lettin’ herself in for!”

“So, about my bike...?”

Zindy sniffed, put her nose in the air and spoke offhandedly, “I don’t want you comin’ near the inn. I’ll have it transported.”

He smiled, “Why? Is Mr Ghostbuster the jealous type?”

“Don’t even try to be funny about Malky. He’s got somethin’ you’ll never have: dignity. No, I’ll have it transported.”

Raspo started humming the riff from Ghostbusters.

She put her cup to her lips, took a sip and stated, plainly, “I don’t trust ya as far as I could spit ya, Robert. I couldn't care less about your ‘new life’, but if you ‘arm one ‘air on Malcolm Calvert’s ‘ead I will find you and I will cut yer eyes out. And you know I mean it.”

...

At that moment, in a private room in Harrisburg Hospital, PA: “Hello, Gilray residence...?” said a familiar, slightly anxious female voice.

Emil’s jaw dropped – he almost dropped the phone! Just my f**king luck! Well, she lives there -- what’d you expect?

“Hello? Is there someone there,” she asked, excitedly, “Uncle Paddy? Is that you?!”

Pretend you don’t know who you’re talking to! He cleared his throat and said in an officious, disinterested voice, “May I speak to Dr Gilray, please?”

“Erm... who is this?”

F**k it. “Um... this is Dr Labatt...?”

“Emil?!”

The second she said his name his heart leapt up into his throat and all attempts at pretence fell away, “Niamh? I’m very sorry. I didn’t recognise your voice -- how are you?!”

“Emil you sound awful – is there anything wrong...?”

“Er... uh-huh... I was in an accident... nothing to fret about – I’ll live, but I’m gonna be in hospital for a while.”

“Oh my God, Emil! Accident?! Hospital?! What the f**k happened?! Are you OK...?”

Although the voice was shrill, it was music to his ears. She was pacing, he could hear the clunk of her heels on the kitchen tiles. He closed his eyes and remembered the afternoon delight in Paddy’s bed, and despite the devastating effect on everyone involved, he didn’t regret it. And now she’s worrying about him, picturing him in plaster, upset that he might be in pain; that beautiful brow vexed with consternation, those beautiful green eyes wide with concern. To pile on the woe, he supplied a detailed summary of the accident and his injuries -- without mentioning blackouts or the voices in his head -- in a weak, gravelly voice. She listened intently and and oh-ed and ah-ed in the right places; every expression of dismay went straight to his groin.

Then her voice as it dropped an octave and became deadly serious, “Listen Emil, I haven’t seen Paddy since yesterday. No one has. I arrived back from Stockholm two days ago and I only saw him for 5 minutes, and 4 of those were spent arguing -- totally unlike him. And get this, the house is a mess -- you know how organised he is, hates the slightest speck of dust! I confronted him about it and he stormed out in a big huff and I haven’t seen him since! I heard a minicab beeping outside around 7 this morning, and I looked out and saw him get in. He wasn't wearing his jacket and he didn’t have his briefcase with him, I just hope he’s OK.”

The news was alarming, but he now he knew his theory was true, it had something to do with the dig 2 years before. “I think I have an idea what’s going on, but I have to ask you, Ni -- health-wise, are you feeling OK?”

“Yeah, why?”

“... Um... have you been ill since that dig in Kildare, y’know, when the mummy’s were exhumed...?”

“What? No...? Why?”

“It’s just that ever since I got back from Ireland -– ever since the dig -- I’ve been having these dizzy-spells. Then I had a strange blackout, like an out-of-body experience, y’know? That’s what caused the accident, I couldn't control myself, it was like someone was... using me like a puppet, y’know? I know it sounds freaky, but sounds like Paddy’s suffering the same symptoms...”

...

10:44AM, Odin’s Inn, Brodir, Co. Wicklow: As the Rolls taxied down the seafront, it didn’t take him long to notice that Brodir wasn't the town they left behind the day before. No cats on the parapet of the old burned-out cinema, no rats stirring in the empty lots, not even a seagull screaming in the sky; the crumbling masonry and general decrepitude of the strand was devoid of Spirit, the atmosphere as hollow as Laphen’s estate or Bogmire village-square. Sickly green and constantly coughing, Malky refused Herbie’s offer of a lift to the local hospital, took his bag and struggled up the steps unassisted where he stood at the front door and waved goodbye, “Very nice to’ve met you, Mr Gorringe, I’ll never forget... euuuurrrrrrgh!” and threw up down the side of the steps. Herbie got out and asked if he should wait with him until Zindy got back. Still retching, Malky waved him away, “No, go, go on Herbie... everything’ll be alright once I sleep this off...” Unconvinced, the chauffeur nevertheless thanked him again and said goodbye. On his way back across the concourse, he stopped, stooped and whispered to Broo (who was dragging his feet with good reason), "You an’ ‘is missus best keep an eye on ‘im, boy. ‘E ‘really should be in ‘ospital.” He patted the old dog’s head (again, no trace of anything adverse: the chauffeur appeared to be unaffected), and kept his eyes on Malky as he performed a u-turn around the little dilapidated bandstand at the end of the strand, stealing a rueful backward-glance at the old dog and shaking his head. As he disappeared from view, Malky staggered headlong into bar and flopped belly-first onto one of the barstools, where he hung, arms limp, hands dangling flaccidly, “I’m dying, Broo...” he squeaked.

Broo observed from the doorway, sympathetic, but unable to provide words of sympathy or even a comforting lick. Malky was a total no-go area now, and there was no way he was getting within 20 feet of him. The afflicted man lifted himself off the stool and staggered over to the jukebox gasping for air like he was climbing a steep hill against a gale. He looked at the old dog in the doorway and asked, breathlessly, “What’s happenin’ to me, Broo? I never felt like this before... Am I sick or is it somethin’... else? Any word from, y’know... beyond the grave...?”

Now their psychic link was broken, Broo could only stare back and whimper and yip to indicate that he was sorry, sad, frustrated and stumped; he turned, clambered back down the steps, sat in the middle of the cobbled concourse and howled, Help! Help! SOS! SOS!

...

10 minutes ago, outside the attic room of the Blackthorn boarding house in Enniskerry, Co Wicklow: Raspo furtively climbed the flight of stairs to the attic flat and paused at the door. He took the hunting knife from his boot, quietly unlocked the door, opened it a crack and peeked in; he’d angled the shaving-mirror above the wash-hand-basin so that it reflected the rest of the room; of particular interest was the area behind the door. Nobody there. He put the knife back in his boot, entered, took off his jacket and draped it over the back of the chair. He peeled off the polo-neck and threw it into the corner, then stood in the middle of the room and flexed his muscles. He put his arms in the air, stretched down and touched his toes, followed by a series of squat-thrusts and sit-ups to excise all the pent-up tension accrued from the little ‘reunion’. When he was finished, he washed himself down with a hand-towel and winked at his own reflection in the circular shaving mirror, “Max Cady -- eat yer heart out!” he said, rippling his pecs so that the huge tiger-head tattoo on his torso looked like it was snarling.

He was in a good mood. Phase 1 of his little scam had gone better than expected. She was angry and bitter -- she’d bristled when she heard that he had another woman. Naturally, that was a downright lie. He looked around at his cramped abode, no woman would live in a kip like this, he thought, as he watched a single drop of rain drip down from the skylight window and spatter on the bare mattress of the unmade bed. There was a fair-sized damp patch that made it look like he’d pissed himself the night before. F**kin’ shithole. He kicked the bedstead in fury, inadvertently banging his head on the sloping ceiling -- he was always banging his head on that f**king sloping ceiling! After the 3rd or 4th time he started punching holes in the plaster to vent his frustration. In fact, it was probably those angry blows that caused the crack in the frame of the skylight in the first place. But no punching the walls or kicking the furniture today. Oh no. Today nothing could jigger his joie de vivre and he decided to roll a celebration spliff to celebrate. Just as he took the box from under his bed, he heard a telltale creak on the second-last stair leading up to the flat. Even though he had a good idea who it was, he never took any chances. He lifted the baseball bat from beside the wardrobe and stood behind the door. There was a gentle rap, “Who is it?” he said.

“Felix. It’s OK, I’m alone,” said a little voice.

Raspo unlatched the door, walked back, leaned on the dresser and lit-up a Marlie. He looked his ‘business partner’ up-and-down  “Well?” he asked, with a disgusted sneer,

Felix, a medium sized, balding, nondescript little man in his early forties wearing well-pressed green overalls, edged into the room. He was the bearer of bad tidings and wasn't sure how Raspo would take it, “Raspo, now, don’t get upset, it’s got nuthin’ to do with me...”

“C’mon, c’mon, just give it to me,” said Raspo, keeping his cool.

Bracing himself for the worst, Felix continued, “... The boyos in the North said it’ll be Thursday this week. The boat carryin’ the goods got seized 40 miles off Rockall and they’re havin’ to make ‘alternative arrangements’...”

“Thursday?  Shite, no stock for 3 days...” said Raspo, shaking his head. “Where’s the takin’s from last week?”

Felix took a bulging white envelope from his pocket -- Raspo snatched it away, tore it open and started counting, “This better be all present and correct, nobhead...” he grumbled, “oh aye, by-the-way, I hadda put petrol in that shitty van o’ yours so I’m takin’ 20 notes outta your cut...”

Felix wasn't bothered. He wasn't in it for the money, he was in it for Raspo. And, heartened by the lightness in His Master’s tone, he felt bold enough to enquire after his day, “... So... I take it everything went according to plan...?”

Raspo stopped counting and shot his quivering confederate a dirty look, “Not that it’s any of your business, f**kface, but yes, the opening act in my little scheme did indeed proceed without a hitch.”

Felix sighed, leant against the cooker in the kitchenette and relaxed; oh, life is so great when he’s in a good mood. Sure-enough, the good cheer extended to a comprehensive account, “she’s creature of habit and sure enough, like every Monday, she was at the market, so I followed her to this big DIY store outside Arklow,” he bragged, chuckling maniacally, “I didn’t even need to nobble the motor, her carburettor was knackered already. And even if I do say so myself, I played her perfectly. Not too keen, not too blasé – the odd one liner here ‘n’ there to show her I’m still a sparkling wit...” He looked up and snarled, “And by-the-way -- the inside of yer van stinks to high heaven – it smells like you had a dead body in there -- so thank God I didn’t have to give her a lift home.” He sneered in a mocking whine, “Is that the van you used to patrol the primary schools and public parks, is it, Felix? Is it your ‘passion wagon’, huh?”

Felix looked at the floor and murmured, shamefully, “No, the garda impounded that van. And it wasn't a Transit. It was a Bedford Astramax. And I didn’t use it for pickin’ up kids -- I’ve never touched a kid in my life...”

Raspo sniggered, “Not for want of tryin’, eh? What about when ye got done for flashing in a playground!”

“I was not flashin’” Felix whined, “I was having a wee-wee behind a tree – I didn’t know they could see me from the top of the slide!!”

“Oh yeah?! And what about all ‘em them kiddie mags they found in yer van?!”

“One of the lodgers must've left them there!”

“Don’t even try to lie to me, f**k-face. Remember who you’re talkin’ to,” growled Raspo, screwing up his nose as if the little man emitted a foul odour, “Y’know, you are so lucky you’re useful to me or you’d be seagull fodder in a landfill.”

The two met in prison after Raspo was sent to the ‘secure wing’ for his own safety, meaning he had to co-habit with an array of rapists, perverts and paedos. Felix Costello was coming to the end of a 4 year term for transporting and importing of paedophilic pornography, and the last 7 months of that sentence were spent in a cell with Mr Robert ‘Raspo’ Canning, a muscle-bound former Hell’s Angel who liked to torture and kill men like Felix. But Raspo was a cut above the usual bearded monsters that spat on his dinner; and when Felix told him his mother owned the Blackthorn Guesthouse in Enniskerry, a final stop-over for widowers and elderly bachelors with no families on their way to the funeral parlour, Raspo was encouraged. The fact that it was 15 miles from Dublin and 30 miles from his old haunts made it the perfect place to hide out when he got out, and he and Felix became almost friendly. He even protected Felix from other hostile prisoners.

Then horror of horrors – with only days to go until his release -- Felix’s saintly mother had a stroke and died in her sleep. To keep up appearances, she never visited her delinquent son in prison but wrote regularly. She managed to keep his arrest out of the local paper and told the neighbours he was doing missionary work in Africa. She refused to acknowledge the gards who questioned her about Felix’s activities, screaming the place down that he was the unfortunate victim of circumstance and that he wouldn't hurt a fly. Naturally, her entreaties fell on deaf ears and she took to her bed with the stress of it all. Thank God she had Blackthorn’s long-term lodger Mr Paterson to look after her. He was a septuagenarian gentleman of no fixed accent, with a comb-over and a handlebar moustache that made him look like a retired RAF squadron leader. Despite his obvious dedication to his mother, Felix didn’t like him much. Too forward, always telling me what to do.

Felix’s mother was a psychic, though she never used her ‘Gift’ again once she found God. Felix was disappointed. He liked it when she did séances; he knew she was play-acting most of the time, but when he saw the pleasure it gave those little-old-ladies, he knew it was all worthwhile. He used to hide behind the curtains and do all the ‘special effects’. He became fascinated by the occult; he’d have a go on her crystal ball, but it never worked for him -– he tried three times to contact her after she died to no avail.

Mammy was a martyr to the various aches and pains incurred during a traumatic childbirth, “Would you believe I used to have an hourglass figure -- look at me now! I’m a balloon!” she’d joke, but Felix knew she was just putting on a brave face. She could tell him how great he was and how much she loved him till she was blue in the face, but he knew he was an unqualified disappointment. She’d take to her bed for weeks on end and he’d wait on her hand and foot – it was the least he could do for destroying her body. Through it all, she had nothing but praise for him. She called him her little Bunny Boy. Nonetheless, she went to the grave with a broken heart; her final memory of him was watching him being taken down to the cells in handcuffs, while one of the mothers shouted “I hope the big lads cut it off in the showers!” It’s a wonder she lasted as long as she did.

When he got the news of her passing, Felix wept in his cell for days. He collapsed at the funeral. They released him on licence a fortnight later and when he walked into the Private Rooms (as mammy called their living quarters), for the first time in 46 years and she wasn’t there to greet him, he wept all over again. Then, on top of everything else, he felt useless: Mr Paterson had been collecting the rent and taking care of the lodgers, so what use was he? He took to his bed and refused to get up. He brought the telly and the VHS into his room and watched all his Disney tapes 20 times each and re-read his entire Enid Blyton collection. He lived on Wotsits, jaffa-cakes, fig-rolls and Slimfast and wore the same clothes for days on end. He smelled like some of the lodgers whose rooms they had to fumigate when they got evicted or died.

Then pure joy. Rapture.

Raspo rang from the gaol and told him he was getting released and decided to take up Felix’s offer of a place to stay and for the first time in months, Felix got out of bed, had a bath, got his trusty cleaning wagon from the cupboard under the stairs and went to work! He took back the landlord’s duties from auld Paterson, evicted that old goat Kennedy from the attic room by typing a fake letter from the council saying it was too small for human habitation, and rolled out the red carpet for his Personal Saviour! All hail Emperor Raspo!

For Raspo it was a secluded garret and a steadfast, malleable servant who seemed to enjoy getting slapped-around; and today was no exception. He lunged and pinned Felix against the wardrobe doors -- putting an arm across his throat and slapping the wad of notes repeatedly on his grimacing face, “There’s only 430 quid here, dickwad?! Where’s the other 70?!”

With the wardrobe door booming behind him like an untempered kettledrum, Felix writhed and croaked, “Oh God, oh God, soorrreeee – I forgot to make-up the difference – take it outta my cut!!”  

Raspo stopped slapping but kept his arm where it was and gave him a lecture he’d repeated many times before, “You can’t keep doin’ this, you stupid c**t! How many times to I have to tell ya – never, ever, give a smackhead credit. They’ll bleed ye dry if yer not tough on ‘em!!”

“I don’t do the tough stuff, I take Big Marty when I go into the flats, but this guy lives in a squat on Carville Road, y’know, in the up-market bit, the ones I usually do on me own. But this boyo...” Felix pulled a sour face, “Ugggh! I couldn’t stick it in there. It stinks to high heaven, you’ve never smelt anythin’ like it -- there was a big curly turd in the corner and he doesn’t have a dog! I told him I’d be back tomorrow and ran straight out and vomited in an auld twin-tub somebody’d dumped in the front garden! I’ll take Big Marty and get it off ‘im!”

Raspo tensed his forearm and increased the pressure on Felix’s throat, “If you’re gonna front my little enterprise then you’re gonna have to buck-up-yer-ideas, Felix. The premise is very good – you deliver posing as a caretaker-slash-handy-man-slash-TV-engineer with yer wee toolbox full of class A narcotics –- but here’s your problem -- yer too non-threatening! You needa get one of these...” Raspo took the hunting knife from his boot and put the blade against Felix’s bobbing Adam’s-apple, “This is my wee persuader. I’ve carved-up guys that owed me as little as 20 notes w’ this thing.”

There was a gurgle then Felix croaked, “Sorry, Raspo, it won’t happen again.”

“You’re f**kin’ lucky I’m in a good mood cuz if there is one thing guaranteed to get me riled it’s people owin’ me money! And then there’s this!” He grabbed Felix by the scruff of the neck and pushed him towards the bed; Felix’s face was forced down and ground into the damp patch in the mattress; then his head was yanked back so that he could look up and see the source, “Erm, I’ll have a glazier look at it in the morning...?” he said, calmly, despite the indignity.

“In the morning, huh? And what about tonight?”  said Raspo, pushing him away “Now, where will I sleep tonight... let me see now...?” he  said, stroking an invisible beard “... a spare room for instance... a room that’s sittin’ all made-up and ready...” he sat in the chair by the door and awaited the inevitable conniption.

He wasn’t disappointed: Felix grabbed the tufts of hair either side of his bald patch and did a little dance on the spot like a kid that needs to wee, “No-no-no-no-no...” then genuflected and fell at Raspo’s feet (he was overdoing it a little, but abject pathos and cartoonish behaviour were the only way he avoided out-and-out beatings when he dared to defy direct orders), “No, please, please, please, Raspo, not me mammy’s room -- take my bed!”

Raspo lifted an empty lager can from the floor and threw it at him, “Get the f**k outta here - I’d rather kip in a skip than put my bare skin anywhere near somewhere you’ve been... eeeuggh,” Raspo shuddered, “‘my bed’, the very notion!” He grabbed Felix by the nape of the neck and growled in his ear, “I’m not feelin’ The Love, Costello. You said my wish would be your command.”

“But Raspo, you know how particular I am about my mother,” Felix implored him, “I’ve got it exactly as it was when she passed -- I even lacquered the pillows ‘n the quilt to save me washing them...”

Raspo pushed him away, “Lacquered bedsheets! Christ on a bike! You are sick! You ARE Norman f**ing Bates!”

“The settee in the living room!” Felix cried excitedly, in a moment of inspiration, “it’s very comfortable -– you’ve seen it -- it’s 8 foot long - big cushions, quilted leather -- and you’d have the radiogram -- the colour-telly -- and the video!”

“And what if somebody comes lookin’ for me?!” he tightened his grip on Felix’s neck.

“They can’t see through the net curtains!”

Raspo released his grip and considered the proposal, “Hmmm. Better than a dead woman’s lacquered duvet, I s’pose...”

“We can have dinner together! I’m making Pasta Primavera with chicken in a lemon sauce tonight... well, if you’re agreeable, like...?”

Raspo didn’t say no. After thinking it over he murmured, “Hmmm, sounds alright, sure enough...”

Felix grinned and chirruped, “See you at 8!”

“F**k-off, Felix.”

He departed the room walking on air, overjoyed that his suggestion had been approved and he’d have Raspo to fuss over for the next few days. He skipped down the four flights of stairs singing One Day My Prince Will Come. When he reached the bottom, Mr Paterson, the long-term lodger and mammy’s constant companion, was coming in the front door. Felix stopped singing and smiling.

“Good afternoon, Felix. Up visiting your new friend?” asked Mr Paterson, with more than a hint of sarcasm. Felix screwed up his nose and chimed like a little girl, “He’s my cousin, not that it’s any of your business!”

“Felix, I knew your mother 40-odd years and I never once heard her mention a relative called ‘Brian’.” Mr Paterson shook his head, “and I’m sure she would've mentioned a big brute like that.”

Exasperated, Felix crossed his arms, cocked a hip and tapped his foot, “Listen -- I don’t have to explain myself to you Paterson, I’m landlord here now, and can I rent to whoever I like!”

“He’s an ex-con, isn't he, it’s written all over that big ugly mug o’ his – I’ll bet you met ‘im on the inside,” said Mr Paterson looking upstairs. “And what have you been doin’ in the evenings, anyway?” he asked, suspiciously, “You didn’t get in until 4 on Sunday morning!”

Felix put a hand on his chest and recoiled in horror, “Have you been... spying on me? How dare you?!”

Paterson explained in a kinder voice, “As she lay on her death bed, yer mammy told me to look after you and she said...”

Sacrilege! “Don’t tell me what my mother said! I’ve only got your word for that! And anyway, I don’t need looking after by some wretched auld codger who collects model aeroplanes and goes dancing down the nursing home!”

Mr Paterson shook his head. He’d heard it all before. Felix watched him laboriously climb the stairs and muttered about nosy auld bastards. He shuffled through the mail on the hall table and found a handwritten letter addressed to his mother. He took it to the living room; the cats, sitting either end of the settee, watched him enter but didn’t stir. “Looky, looky, me loves -– mammy got a letter!” he went to the mantelpiece and got the silver letter-opener, opened it with a flourish, extracted the missive, ceremoniously shook it out, and read aloud:

“’Dear Miss Costello,

‘I am writing to invite you to an emergency meeting of the Real Irish Psychics at the home of Mrs Verity Murphy, Rottingdean Cottage, Addanstown, Co. Meath. Please attend if you can this is a matter of the greatest urgency, Ms Carmel McCool is attending and has urgent news...’”

Felix stopped reading and put a hand to his chest, “Mizz Carmel McCool?!” he gasped. The cats watched with some alarm as the man who fed and watered them pranced around the room like a caffeinated 5 year old on Christmas morning, “You know what this means don’t yez? Eh? EH?!”

The cats remained supremely impassive.

“Well, she’s a bona fide psychic like me mammy -- she’ll put me in touch with her Spirit!” he said, punching the air in triumph. As he put the silver letter-opener back on the mantelpiece, he told his mother’s urn, “Even when you were bible-thumpin’ you never questioned Mizz McCool’s psychic abilities, did ya mammy? Now I can tell you how sorry I am!”

Meanwhile upstairs: Raspo went to the little b/w portable TV sitting atop the battered tallboy and flipped the on-switch; he turned the mattress over and sprawled out to smoke the spliff; as he blew the first lungful into the air, the screen brightened to reveal a female reporter clutching a huge microphone, sheltering from the downpour under a white golf-umbrella as the anchorman chatted to her from the studio:  

REPORTER: “...his niece, Niamh Fitzgerald, who is staying at Dr Gilray’s home, reported him missing earlier today. Over the next few hours it became clear that this was no ordinary disappearance – apparently he stole a car and sped off in a hurry -- bizarre in the extreme!”

ANCHORMAN: “Yes, I must say I’ve interviewed him on a few occasions and found him to be very personable, respectable man. This is totally out of character.

REPORTER: “A witness said she saw him ‘peeking into parked cars’. When the owner returned and reported the car missing, the gards took the eyewitness’ description that they realised the thief was Dr Gilray.”

ANCHORMAN: “And apart from having led many high-profile murder cases in recent years - namely the Disappeared of Donegal case in 1985 – most people will know him as the man who discovered those mummies in a peat-bog in South Kildare a couple of years ago...”

Raspo changed channels, “Oh, f**k off. I wanna see somethin’ to lift me spirits...” The picture eventually settled and a familiar, dimpled grin flickered on the screen.

“Ahh -- wouldja look-at-that -- Ollie Laffin! The Quare Geg himself! That’ll do!” He sat back and took a deep pull on the spliff. 10 minutes later he was in kinks...

...

Odin’s Inn, Brodir: A few minutes after Herbie drove off, Zindy arrived in a tow-truck pulling the lifeless carcass of the old van. As soon as she saw the state of Malky she became Nurse Lindsay and fussed over him like a clucking hen. Broo stood well back and watched her minister to her patient, making no attempt to indicate how bad things were; in any case, she was avoiding his eyes for some reason. She put Malky to bed, unloaded the van then went about the painting and decorating without coming into the parlour to see how Broo was. In fact, she was strangely reserved. No radio, no singing to herself. That was odd. But then again, everything is odd now: why should she be any different? Could it be a side-effect of the infection? Maybe she’ll get it too! And the baby... What about the baby?!

As the clock struck midnight, Broo sat to attention on the velveteen banquette by the front door, watching the old seawall through the little side-window, waiting to see if any of the the little Drowners would appear and explain what was going on. It was a blustery night, the eaves whistled tunelessly with each gust of the cold northern wind; gobs of sea-spray splattered the windows, the lighthouse beam swung back-and-forth, intermittently illuminating the bar through the brine-strewn glass; all-in-all, it was a typical night in Brodir, but no sign of life or death: still no gulls in the sky, no rats in the abandoned units, and no ghosts in the ghost town. Worst of all, the inn’s resident spectre was absent.

He had no one to talk to and no one to guide him, and for the first time since coming to Odin’s Inn, Broo yearned to see the Ghost of Sammy O'Donnell...

...

08:53 EST, Harrisburg General Hospital: Emil managed to tune his radio to an Irish station broadcasting traditional Irish music 24/7 with news summaries from Dublin on-the-hour-every-hour, albeit 5 hours ahead of EST. According to the bulletin, the garda were still looking for the missing forensic scientist, Dr Patrick Gilray; there was an appeal for witnesses, but apart from that there had been no further developments. Whatever happened, whatever the circumstances, Paddy was his best friend and he was genuinely concerned.

They met when he was still seeing Paddy’s sister, Mairead, whom he met when she, like him, travelled all the way to San Francisco in ’67 with flowers in her hair to see what all the fuss about and got to know each other when they enjoyed some Free Love amongst the junkie dropouts at Haight-Ashbury. When Mairead introduced him to her brother Paddy, they hit it off immediately and their friendship outlasted the couple’s brief love affair. Paddy was a jolly, dapper, old-before-his-time confirmed bachelor who loved antique sports cars and Gershwin; Emil was an out-and-out hippy who loved women and avant-garde jazz; to the casual observer the men were polar opposites, but they bonded over a fascination for European pagan civilisation, the Celts in particular, and would talk till the early hours about everything from Golden Age comics to Iron Age cutlery. It was no surprise to learn that they were both studying pathology -- a career path that would result in them becoming respected forensic scientists in their chosen fields -- it was as if their companionship was meant to be. When it was time for Emil to return to Canada and resume his studies, they agreed to meet every summer and embark on archaeological digs in the Irish countryside; it became as traditional as Christmas, and it went on for 22 years... until the summer of ‘89.

Niamh was Mairead’s daughter from her affair with Enda Fitzgerald, the Irish poet, whom she shacked-up with 6 months after she and Emil split. Fitzgerald died from a heroin overdose a week after Niamh’s first birthday. A few years later, Mairead married an international civil rights lawyer and moved to Stockholm. Ni was sent to an English boarding school, and when she moved to Dublin to study Criminal Psychology at Trinity, she stayed with her beloved Uncle Paddy, an arrangement that suited them both perfectly. She was intelligent and funny and shared his interest in archaeology. She’d joined them for the annual dig every year from the age of 12, but to Emil, she was just another kid. She’d sit and read a book all the way through dinner and spent most of her time in her room. And then she suddenly grew up and -- BOOM! “A 19 year-old hottie with a drop-dead-body!” He couldn't believe his eyes -- a blonde bombshell, no less! Then, miracles of miracles -- she told him she’d always fancied him and offered use of said body for a spot of afternoon delight with no strings attached! He couldn't say no! It was 22 minutes of blissful madness, but it cost him his best friend and now his marriage. After 2 years of semi-estrangement, Fran finally made the break.

She never came back to the hospital. She went back to Toronto the next morning. The crash had brought everything to a head, she said. She rang and told him she was seeing a divorce lawyer and was desperately sorry about springing this on him in his current state, but couldn't hold off a moment longer: this had to be done before he talked her out of it. His lover, his wife, his soulmate had finally wised-up and left him high-‘n’-dry without a Soul in the world.

He heard the musical intro to the news and turned up the radio, “... detectives investigating the disappearance of Dr Patrick Gilray are still searching the residence. The detective in charge, DS Somerville -- who is also a close personal friend of Dr Gilray -- has appealed to the general public to report any sightings...”  

He didn’t hear the rest; he was distracted by Rowena, the big black nurse knocking the door, “Some police here to see ya, Dr Emil. You OK with that?”

“What do they want now?” he grumbled.

“All’s I know is he’s police. Now d’ya wanna see ‘im or not?” He sighed loudly and nodded. She ushered in a stylishly dressed American-Italian detective carrying a clipboard and a black-PVC sack emblazoned with the initials HBPD in bold white print. He was a good-looking guy, with a thick head of shiny black hair sculpted into a centre-parting. He smelled of spearmint and expensive cologne: Emil took an instant dislike to him and didn’t reciprocate when he offered his hand; the rebuff didn’t dint the man’s élan one iota, he unbuttoned his jacket and helped himself to the chair by the bed. “I’d say it must be hell lyin’ in here day-after-day, Dr Labatt,” he said, in a cheery voice, “I broke a leg skiing in Alberta in ‘83 and I was only outta action for 3 weeks but it drove me crazy!”

“What do you want?” Emil asked, dryly.

The young cop wasn’t fazed and politely explained, “OK, Dr Labatt, I’ll cut to the chase. I’m Detective Marty Esposito of Harrisburg PD -- I’m here to clarify a few details about the crash and give you the personal effects that survived the fire,” he held up the black bag.

Emil was his usual sarcastic self, “Do I need to call my lawyer? Cuz he’s busy handling my divorce.”

Esposito smiled a patient smile, “No, I’m not gonna charge you --”

“-- yet?”

“-- I just wanna hear your side before we --”

“-- decide whether or not to charge me?”

“ -- proceed.” Esposito, only mildly irritated, sat forward and got more assertive; he looked Emil in his good eye and said, plainly, “Dr Labatt, I find your attitude somewhat uncivil in view of the fact that you could've killed a lot of people. Because of your actions a young fireman lost his face! Now I think those people are entitled to know what happened. Don’t you?”

Emil just stared.

“Thank you.” Esposito consulted his notes and informed him, “Well, I’m pleased to tell you that your tox-screen turned up a negative result, no alcohol no drugs...”

“You mean I wasn't high?” Emil chimed sarcastically, “I was sure I had a kilo of coke and a bottle of vodka in the glove box -– thank god there was a fire!”

“As a matter of fact we did look in the glove box -- and no, we didn’t find any narcotics or liquor -- but we did find this.” Esposito reached into the plastic bag and produced an evidence bag with something heavy inside. “Why do you keep a claw hammer in your glove box, Dr Labatt...?”

A week later: Odin’s Inn, Brodir, Co. Wicklow: After three days of tossing and turning, dry retching, and a severe dose of the shits, Malky’s fever broke and he arose bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. It was a complete transformation. He was chatty, full of energy, helping with the decorating and whistling while he worked. Broo, though pleased by his recovery, knew things weren’t back to normal. The aura was still there; in fact, it was stronger than ever, Broo had to stay in the parlour out of harm’s way. Whatever was happening, it didn’t seem to affect Zindy or the baby. She was more agreeable than usual, no friendly banter, no teasing, just attentive and kind. She didn’t even pretend to be annoyed when Malky told her he’d had torn up Laphen’s cheque and threw it back in his face. He didn’t notice she was being atypically polite and pleasant. She didn’t seem to notice that he wasn't himself, if she did, she didn’t let on.

The thing was, Malky was so upbeat and energetic he couldn't sleep and took long walks every evening after dinner to wear himself out. He never took Broo, though. Ever since they got back from the Laphen house they’d been avoiding each other, and for the time being, that seemed to suit them both fine. But as the week wore on he began staying out past midnight. Broo followed him, keeping his distance (40 yards to be exact). He had been shadowing his errant partner for a week now: Every day at dusk, when the summer sun was just an orange glow on the horizon, it was the same routine: something clicked in Malky’s head and he left the inn and wandered aimlessly for miles. Broo followed him as he walked the empty streets and explored all the derelict buildings; he visited the disused units along the seafront and the abandoned cottages where the leathermen used to squat; along the way he’d pick up pieces of litter and examine them as if they were relics of a bygone age, paying special attention to pieces of newspaper and the print on food wrappers. He walked to an abandoned house on the edge of town and stood in front of an old mirror for 2 solid hours. It was exhausting and baffling.

Zindy was usually fast-asleep by the time he got back. When she asked him where he’d been, his reply was vague, “Just round-and-about...” he’d say, as if he didn’t know but didn’t want to admit it. One morning she awoke and found herself alone; his clothes were over the back of the chair, so he was definitely in the building. She checked the guestrooms and both bathrooms and eventually found him downstairs in the bar, perched on a stool in his underwear, gazing blankly into space. When she tapped his shoulder, it was like rousing a sleepwalker: he was scared at first, then confused and embarrassed. Weird, she thought, unaware that the worst was yet to come.

On Saturday evening, while Malky fried the steak for dinner, Zindy sat at the kitchen table chopping onions and slicing mushrooms, talking about her ideal kitchen, “I’m gonna have a big range – and a big dishwasher -– one of ‘em that can take the dishes from an entire dinner party in one load.”

“Sounds wonderful!” said Malky, flipping the meat.

She stopped chopping and chuckled, “Are you takin’ the piss, Malcolm Calvert?”

Malky turned, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, spluttered, “What? No. I mean... What did you say?”

She could tell by the vacant look on his face that she’d interrupted another daydream; the ‘wonderful’ was an unconscious, atypical response, the latest in a long line of uncharacteristic quirks and tics that made her uneasy. She resumed chopping and kept an eye on him. What is the matter with him? Does he know about the Raspo situation? Nah, he was on his way back from Kildare, there’s no way he could know... is there?

The phone rang in the hall and broke her concentration. She scraped the onion rings into the skillet, kissed Malky’s cheek and went out to the hall to answer the call.

“Odin’s Inn, Brodir...”

“It’s me.”

Shit! “You couldn't have called at a worse time!!”

“It’s been over a week!”

“Waitaminnit!” She went to the kitchen door, made sure Malky was still at the cooker then quietly closed it; she jooked in the parlour to make sure that Broo was watching telly, then covered the mouthpiece and whispered, “Whaddya want?!”

“Me bike! That’s what I want!”

“I’ve been very busy painting ‘n’ decorating an’ I ‘aven’t ‘ad time to do owt about it.”

“Well, I can’t wait any longer! I don’t care who’s there, I’m comin’ to get it!”

The whisper became a dissonant hiss, “I told you –- no way are you to come within a mile ‘o this place. I’ll make the arrangements, OK?! Leave it with me.”

“Has something happened to it? It is there, ain't it?”

“It’s out-back and it’s perfectly fine! It’s packed in polythene under a tarpaulin in the big shed!”

“C’mon Zin, lemme come and get me bleedin’ bike back! I’ve got a buyer and he ain't gonna hang around while you fanny-about!”

Zindy was in a pickle. In truth, there wasn't anybody she could ask to take it to him. Her mates had all deserted her, the mechanics at the local garage had fallen out with her when she told them how to do their jobs, and having it transported was bound to cost her dough they didn’t have...

“Here’s an idea – tell me when you’re goin’ out and leave backdoors open? Huh?”

“Outta the question! I ain’t ‘avin’ you comin’ round ‘ere unsupervised! I’m still not 100% sure this ain’t some kinda trick.”

“Don’t be silly. I can come down tomorrow morning if that suits.”

“No. I don’t want you comin’ when Malky is here.”

“OK, tell me when he goes out and we’ll do it then! It’ll only take 5 minutes.”

Zindy chewed the inside of her cheek and struggled in vain to find an alternative. Finally, she conceded defeat, “OK, he’s got ‘ospital appointment on Friday mornin’. Be here no sooner than 11:15. I’ll lock-up the inn, but I’ll leave the backdoors open. In-‘n-out mind. I don’t want you ‘ere when we get back.”

“Thank you. Much obliged.”

“Any funny business and I call the cops.”

Click.

 Click.

“That sounded as if it went well,” said Felix, with a hopeful smile.

Raspo blew a plume of smoke into the air, “Oh yes indeedy-do!” he chuckled contentedly, “the fish is on the hook, I just haveta reel-her-in and smash ‘er head on the deck.”

They were in the living-room, sitting opposite each other in high-backed leather armchairs in front of a roaring fire; it’s like a gentlemen’s club! Felix got the chance to show that he was an intelligent man of discerning taste, not just a lowly gofer. He lit the scented-candles on the mantelpiece and dimmed the lamps. He made Earl Grey tea and got out his best biccies. He groomed the cats so their fur was fluffy and tactile. Raspo was quite well-disposed towards Mr Minx and Mrs Jinx – but invariably referred to them as ‘Blofeld Cats’ (from a James Bond film, apparently, although Felix had never seen a Bond film; he preferred cartoons). At that particular moment, Felix was petting Mrs Jinx on his lap with a big stupid smile on his face; Raspo, stroking Mr Minx with one hand, spliff in the other, grinned like the cat that got the cream.

“So-oo... that Calvert guy is goin’ out, is he? That’ll make things a helluva lot easier,” said Felix, brightly.

Raspo went on stroking the cat and answered in a strange foreign accent, “Indeed, but it also poses a problem, Mr Bond...”

“How?”

Raspo continued in his normal voice, “... like, what if Calvert should arrive back early and catch us in the act? Nah, I’d feel more comfortable if I wuz tooled up.”

“He’s not gonna put up much of a fight, is he?” Felix tittered, “He’s got a heart condition -- I’ve seen ‘im, he doesn’t look very threatening.”

“He’s ex-RUC, dickhead -– he’s likely to have a gun for personal security.” Raspo thumbed the cat’s ear and thought it over again. “Aye, somethin’ small -- a .22 should do it. You’re gonna have to go and see Günter and make the necessary arrangements...” He thought for a moment then retracted, “no – don’t – get Big Marty on it -– if it gets out that you’re lookin’ fer a gun somebody might put 2+2 together and get me.”

“What about the dog?”

Raspo dismissed the question out-of-hand, “If it causes me any trouble, I’ll slit its bleedin’ throat. I’d enjoy doin’ it, too... three legged freak...”

With that, Mr Minx jumped off Raspo’s lap and ran into the kitchen. Mrs Jinx soon followed. It was as if they sensed things were about to get ugly.

But Felix couldn’t resist, “So... do you believe the dog might have special powers...?”

“No I feckin’ don’t! Do you?” grumbled Raspo, irritated by the question.

Felix chose his words very carefully, “See, I believe some animals, especially cats, have a direct-line to the Spirit World. They become what witches call a Familiar... erm... they see things we can’t...?” Felix stopped midsentence to make sure his guest wasn't about to punch him.

But Raspo didn’t heckle or threaten violence, in fact he took a sip of his drink, stared into the fire, nodding as if something had just occurred to him, “There was this one time the lads went to stay with a mate in Scotland who had this big ginger tom. When Barry McKee arrived the next day -- the cat took one look at ‘im ‘n bolted. Apparently he didn’t come back until we’d gone. Creepy, sure enough...”

Oh this is more like it! Felix was utterly rapt, and in the spirit of the occasion chanced to express a deeply-held and potentially controversial personal opinion, “That ties into the theory that he was pos --!”

Raspo raised an eyebrow.

Uh oh... Felix backpedalled furiously, “Well... what I mean is, y’know, there’s eejits who believe he was possessed by.... a demon...?”

Raspo might’ve been stoned and slightly pissed, but he couldn’t countenance such drivel, “Whataloadashite,” he raged, “The man was sick in the head, he wasn't ‘possessed’!”

“I’m only tellin’ you what they say,” said Felix, talking quickly, trying desperately to justify his opinion, “like there’s this guy I know who’s an outpatient at SCICI and he told me that one of the warders told him that every time McKee blinks the lights flash and the TV in the rec room --”

That’s as far as he got. Raspo reached across and slapped him lightly on the cheek, “I warned you about this,” he said, waving his finger in Felix’s face, “I told you I’d batter ye senseless if I heard ye mention any ‘o that auld demonic bollox!” He pointed at the bookcase against the opposite wall, “I know you’re into all that shite –- I’ve seen the books you read!”

Felix wanted to explain his fascination for the macabre, but it would only make things worse, so he kept his mouth shut and let Raspo rant without interruption; he had an important assignation tonight and he didn’t want to arrive on crutches...

...

30 minutes ago, at Odin’s Inn: Zindy opened the kitchen door and peeked in. Malky was still at the hob, tending the skillet; “Who was it?” he asked, innocently, without looking.

“It was somebody for me... erm... an old friend...” she said, sitting down at the table.

Her procrastination intrigued Malky, “Everything’s alright, isn’t it?”

She went to him and took his arm, “Yeah... look, luv, c’mere and sit down fer a minnit, willya...”

Malky, apprehensive and concerned, did as she asked; spatula in hand, he slipped into the seat opposite and looked at her bump “It’s not the baby, is it?” he asked, very concerned.

“No, no, no, nuthin’ like that.” She looked into his eyes and said, “It’s about Robert ‘Raspo’ Canning,- my ex.”

Malky crossed his arms and scowled, “The fat Hell’s Angel dope-dealer with the purple beard and penchant for ultra-violence? Outta gaol, is he?”

“Yeah... well, ‘e’s not fat anymore, ‘n ‘e’s shaved off the beard, but yeah, ‘e’s out ‘n ‘e wants to flog ‘is bike. He’s got a new girlfriend, see, and they’re tryin’ to raise the cash to emigrate.” She’d inserted this last titbit in an effort to put his mind at rest, but it didn’t have the desired effect.

He looked in the direction of the hall and slipped into detective-mode, “I must say, that’s a lot of information for such a short conversation. You were only on for a couple of minutes.”

He’s got me; but why the hostility? Zindy thought it best to be frank and supplied a detailed, open & honest account of the ‘chance meeting’, “... and when you came home I didn’t get a chance to tell you -– you were so ill I hadda put ya to bed, ‘n when you recovered you were in such good form I didn’t wanna spoil things by bringin’ it up.”

“Why?! How would it spoil things to be open and honest?” he asked, his mood slowly darkening.

“Look he doesn’t matter anymore -- he’s irrelevant! He means nothing to me now and once ‘e gets his bike ‘e’ll fook off outta our lives forever.”

He got up and returned to the skillet without saying a word.

She called after him, “That it, then? Crisis averted?”

When he turned back, his face was virtually unrecognisable -- eyes burning, nose wrinkled with rage, he shook the spatula at her and snarled, “It’s about trust, Zindy -– you should’ve told me! That’s what responsible adults do! They don’t have secrets! I thought you were different! But you’re sly and sleekit -- just like my ex-wife!”

She was totally thrown; this was entirely out-of-character. She held up her hands in a gesture of surrender, “OK, OK, calm down, chook...”

He banged the table with his fist, “Don’t f**kin’ patronise me, chook! Just tell me what you told him!”

Zindy, finding it increasingly difficult to keep her temper under control, answered in a strained voice, “I... I told him to come and get the bike when we’re at the cardiologist’s on Friday. I was gonna leave the yard door open for ‘im...”

He sat down again, his face blank and impassive.

“Mal?”

Behind him, the unattended skillet suddenly burst into flames. He didn’t even blink. “SHIT!” Zindy jumped up, turned ran to the sink, soaked a tea-towel in cold water and threw it over the flames -- the fire disappeared in a cloud of steam and greasefire-smoke that set off the smoke alarm.

Malky still hadn’t budged.

“Don’t you fuss yerself Malky Calvert, I’ll deal with this crisis,” she yelled, as she hauled on the big oven-glove picked up the fuming skillet and deposited it in the sink.

Malky was still in a trance. The smoke alarm continued to bleep.

She fetched the mop from the corner, stood on a chair and used the pole to turn it off. “I have to say, I’m surprised at you, Mal. I never had you pegged as the jealous type.” But he stubbornly maintained his silence and stared at the table top so he didn’t have to look at her. For the first time since they met, she lost her cool and bawled, “Hey! Soft lad! Look at me!!”

Malky continued to stare at the tabletop and replied under his breath, in a dry, sombre tone, “I’m goin’ out. If I stay here I might say something I’ll regret.” With that, he slowly got up, took off his apron, threw it onto the table, took his jacket from the nail on the back of the kitchen door and walked off down the hall.

Zindy was mentally and physically drained. She sat down at the table, patted her bump and groaned through a heavy sigh, “What the hell’s gotten into your dad, babe?”

 Broo heard the phonecall. At least it explained Zindy’s unusual behaviour. When she went back to the kitchen, he listened to them argue. Her reasoning was logical. His response was not. When Malky stormed into the hall, Broo skipped into the parlour and hid behind the couch. He waited until he heard the outer door slam shut and went to the kitchen to check on Zindy. She was sitting at the table, slumped in her chair, eating a thick slice of cheddar topped with blob of chutney, “’eard everythin’, didja?” she said unemotionally, pointing at the blackened wall behind the cooker,  “he burned the dinner ‘n went off in a jealous rage. What do you reckon on that, Broo?” All he could do was lick her hand to assure her he was on her side. “You gonna follow ‘im again, are ya?” she asked, stroking his head. Broo grunted an affirmative and went to the flap in the backdoor. “Well, keep yer distance, ‘ol boy, he’s in no mood for company,”she said, in a sad voice.

This time Broo didn’t have to walk far. In a change from his usual route, Malky went along the strand and turned into the alley at the side of the old burned-out cinema. Broo waited until he was out of sight and then skipped along and peeked around the corner. He saw Malky pushing through the broken emergency-exit door to gain access; once he was safely inside, Broo carefully made his way along the alley, careful not trip on the numerous discarded beer cans and broken bottles (the leather men used to use the cinema to have parties) and lose his balance. He managed to squeeze through the doorway and make it into the dilapidated theatre without making a sound. Malky was sitting on the aisle near the back, in one of the few remaining seats, staring straight-ahead at the big black space where the screen used to be. Up until now Broo hadn’t interfered, but tonight, considering the quarrel with Zindy and this latest development, he could wait and watch no longer. He threw caution to the wind, stumbled through the charred debris and tottered up the aisle to confront his partner face-to-face, regardless of the danger.

As usual, Malky was there in body but not in mind or spirit. He was wall-eyed, slack-jawed and virtually drooling, the aura’s insidious mist drifting in and out of his mouth and nostrils with every breath he took.

Broo let out a quiet ruff to snap-him-out-of-it.

Malky suddenly burst into life - “Get away from me!” he shouted, angrily and lashed out with his foot, kicking the old dog square in his left side –winding him  and knocking him over -- he rolled down the slope of the aisle, over-and-over-and-over-and-over, until he came to rest against a fallen beam. Malky sat back and resumed his terrible meditation as if nothing had happened.

Dispirited, covered in filth and fearing for his life, Broo staggered home, hurt and humiliated, his ribs aching, his head hung low with his tail between his legs.

Zindy had obviously gone to bed. The inn was very quiet. The parlour was dark.

“Pssst!”

What was that? A hiss in the chimney...?

“Dog!”

No, it wasn't coming from the hearth -– it was coming from above the hearth. He looked up and saw the slightest glimmer in the glass of the mirror, like the glow you get from a TV screen when you turn it off in a darkened room. He hauled himself up onto the couch and put his remaining front paw on the arm, stretching up and raising his head so that it was level with the mirror; it was steamed up, but the condensation appeared to be on the inside of the glass. Then a hand cleared a void in the steam and a face appeared: the familiar, silver-bearded, toothless countenance of none-other Samuel O'Donnell -- deceased barman, John Wayne fan and spectral pain-in-the-neck! The old dog’s heart leapt -- he barked a hearty hello!

Sammy was looking around him and talking at the same time, “I can’t see you but I can hear you -– well, I hear you in my head -- y’know the score. I’m sorry but this has to be a bit quick, like, cos I’m in what they call Mirror World or Glass Land or the Void, dependin’ on who you talk to, and you can’t survive here long cos it saps yer Essence...”

Get on with it you beautiful idiot!

“OK. Here goes,” and for the next five minutes Sammy told Broo all he knew as quickly as possible. “... the plan seems to be: abandon the immediate area for a while, starve it of the auld psychic energy, and hopefully it’ll die out before it spreads.”

What about humans?

“It won’t do ‘em any harm unless they have the Gift -– it attacks the psychic energy, see, and that’s why it affects you, so you gotta...” the words became distant and unintelligible, the mirror had begun to steam up again -- the image was fading. Broo whimpered and asked him to repeat the message, but Sammy was waving frantically, his voice now inaudible. The mirror misted over until the glass was completely obscured. He climbed down and pondered on what he had heard.

It only affects Sensitives? Is Malky a Sensitive...?

21:03 GMT, in a dark country lane near Addanstown, Co. Meath: “At last! Rottingdean Cottage!” cried Felix. “Thank goodness for that!” It was almost dark, another 10 minutes and it would've been impossible to see the sign at the end of the lane. It had been a long drive and he’d made a few wrong turns, but he felt as exhilarated as when he first set-off. He parked, preened himself in the rear-view-mirror, licked his thumbs to flatten his eyebrows, and teased the mousy-hair around his bald patch to make him look lovable and vulnerable. The perfect end to a perfect day! Raspo’s plan is proceeding nicely, the tenants have paid-up on time, and now I’m going to meet a genuine psychic and talk to me mammy! He had been looking forward to this all week and nothing was going to spoil it! He grabbed the carrier bag from the passenger seat, jumped out -– put a black armband over his anorak -- ran up the meandering crazy-paved path and rang the doorbell. Mrs Murphy, a tall, short-haired, homely middle-aged woman bursting out of a lilac trouser-suit, looked him up and down with a gimlet eye, “Hmm, yes, can I help you?” she asked, in a refined, unspecific Irish accent.

“Felix Costello from Enniskerry?!” he almost shouted.

“We don’t want any today, thank you.” She closed the door. Felix rang the doorbell again; she answered again immediately, “Look, if you don’t...”

“This is Rottingdean Cottage?” he said, excitedly, and held out the invitation, “I’m Betty Costello’s son!”

The homely face dropped several inches and she almost sang an apology, “Oh – I am so awfully, dreadfully sorry! I was using an old Rolodex and I must've forgotten to remove your mother’s card -- please accept my heartfelt condolences and humble apologies, I know you must've come an awfully long way, but this is for members only, so sorry...” She began to close the door again but he blocked it with his foot and quickly explained, “As you say, I’ve come all this way, and in honour of her memory,” he pointed at the black armband, “I’d like to attend this meeting, if that’s OK with you? I’ll sit at the back and be very quiet – I’ve brought my own snacks,” he rustled the blue carrier bag, “I’ll be no bother at all!” He gave her a painstaking blow-by-blow account of his journey to numb her into submission and ended by rifling through the carrier bag and presenting her with a Nestlé Black Magic Easter egg (5 Easters’ old -- he bought it for his mammy before he was gaoled), “I know Easter’s past, but chocolate’s chocolate no matter what time of year it is, eh?!”

“Yes... most kind, thank you...” she took it and grudgingly acceded, “Well, since you’ve gone to so much trouble Mr Costello, I can’t see how I can possibly refuse...” She stood aside and he scuttled into the hall, “Has Mizz McCool started yet?” he asked, standing on tiptoe, looking over her shoulder, peeking into the lounge. Mrs Murphy looked up at the ceiling and told him a quiet voice, “She’s upstairs preparing, doing her breathing exercises -– she’s very theatrical. It irks some of our older members, but in my opinion people with The Gift are entitled to their little eccentricities, don’t you agree...?”

“I entirely agree!” replied Felix, looking up the staircase, “She’s one in a billion!” he said loudly, so she might hear. “My mother had nothin’ but praise for Mizz McCool even when she was calling yez the ‘Black Hearted Spawn of Satan’!”

With that exclamation the conversations in the lounge suddenly ceased.

To cover for this faux pas, Mrs Murphy pretended to find it hilarious and cried in reply, “YES! Some of the things people shout at us are awful!” she grabbed his arm and hustled him through the bemused throng, “Now be quiet, this isn’t exactly a social occasion,” she whispered in his ear, as she took him to a crepe-paper covered pasting-table at the back of the room laden with pastries, nibbles and beverages. “Tea or coffee?” she asked.

He turned so that the room could hear him and joked, “I must say -- I was expecting spirits!”

The crowd fell silent again, turned and glared.

Felix gulped. “Tea, please.”

As she poured she announced, “This is Felix, everyone, he’s Betty Costello’s son, and as most of you know, Betty passed a few months ago, so he’s come as her representative, and is not an R.I.P. member or possessed of a Gift – except for an Easter-egg 5 years past its sell-by-date -- so please, in the nicest possible way, just indulge him if he asks a lot of silly questions, mm?”

His reputation went before him. He saw the scowls, he heard the snarky whispers. The ones that knew were very quick to inform those who were none-the-wiser. One of the older, deafer women said, “...You mean, that’s her son? The one that went to prison?” He didn’t care. He respected those who disrespected him: it showed good judge of character.

There were around 25 people besides himself: a couple of younger girls who looked nervous, one of them constantly giggling; a few Goth girls with multiple piercings who looked fierce and foreboding; lots of old women in shawls and hats of all shapes and sizes; a few podgy, effeminate men enjoying the refreshments, talking loudly about visions and ghosts in their silly, sissy-voices. Mrs Murphy introduced him to the ‘Guest of Honour’: Mrs Sparkes, a stout, buckle-faced woman in her 70s wearing a flowery pinafore over green charlady overalls. She smelled of Pledge and ammonia.

Mrs Sparkes shook his hand weakly and looked him up and down as if he was an alien species. “Is that a west-country accent I hear?” he asked, cheerfully, even though she hadn't said anything to him yet (he’d been eavesdropping).

Mrs Murphy immediately answered for her, “No, Mrs Sparkes has come from South Kildare.”

“But I have cousins in Devon who used to visit our guesthouse every year ‘n they speak just like you!” said Felix, bemused. “If I close my eyes you could be their mother!”

This time the old woman shoved the hostess aside and spoke for herself, “’Ow dare ee! Oi’ve lived in Kildare all moy loife an’ oi’ve never been near yer ‘guest’ouse’, whatever tha is! ‘Ow dare ee infur that oi ‘ave children by any man ovver than me own ‘usband -- may God rest ‘is Soul!” Her face closed like a fist and her throat made a rattling noise.

Felix was flummoxed “I wasn't inferring anything! I was just making conversation...?”

The hostess stepped between them, “Mrs Sparkes belongs to a sheltered community that don’t often communicate with the outside world, they originate from Cornwall and have customs we might find a little odd...”

“Oh, like the Amish!” said Felix, brightly.

“NO!”Mrs Sparkes barked, turned away and resumed the conversation she was having with another hardfaced old lady before Mrs Murphy had so rudely interrupted. She clearly didn’t like the hostess or Felix one little bit.

There were three sharp bumps from the room above.

“Saved by the belle of the ball...” said Mrs Murphy under her breath, as she strode to the front of the room and flashed the lights, “Ladies... and gentleman, would you take your seats, please.”

Everyone quickly found somewhere to sit, and despite his efforts to get close, Felix was jostled and hustled along until he ended up very back behind a trio of really old ladies. The room fell silent. Once she had their undivided attention, Mrs Murphy proceeded with the short introduction: “Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, as you are well aware, is an emergency meeting, Ms McCool has a lot to say, so listen very carefully, and keep your questions till the end.”

Lots of mumbling and nervous whispers.

“Now, without further ado, please welcome our chairwoman -– Ms Carmel McCool!” With that, Mrs Murphy opened the living room door, stood back and the woman of the hour entered to enthusiastic applause. It was like a film premiere! The room flashed as the sissy boys took photographs! A girl gave her a bouquet of lilies. Felix was on his feet, clapping, whistling and cheering (much to the annoyance of the old ladies in front), as the tall, slim figure stood in the doorway.

Carmel McCool was a heavily-made-up woman in her late 60s who didn’t wear anything made after 1929. The long, dark scarlet coat and flowing turquoise chiffon dress topped with a fake mink stole sporting a jet black bob; one of the sissies whispered, “She looks just like Louise Brooks in Pandora’s Box!” She acknowledged the applause with unsmiling aplomb then signalled for quiet. She might’ve looked like a silent movie star but her voice was in a class of its own. She was from Newry in Co. Down, not that you’d know it; she had a rarefied Ulster accent, her diction crisp, clear and commanding, “Thank you for your warm reception friends, colleagues, fellow Sensitives and psychics - I’m so grateful and honoured that you’ve taken the trouble to travel from all over the Island to be here tonight,” she cradled the flowers in her arms and scooped a tiny tear from her eye, taking care not to disturb her false eyelashes or smudge her mascara. “I only wish it could be a more joyous occasion, but it couldn't be more serious. Deadly serious.”

The smiles vanished. A discomfited rumble ran through the crowd.

Felix pulled the tab on a can of Tab and sprayed the old ladies in front with a short blast of carbonated brown. The grumbling stopped as everyone turned to see what was going on; the old ladies in front turned and glared at him as they wiped their sticky napes with dainty hankies.

He grimaced and mouthed sorry.

“Ahem.”

The crowd turned back.

Mizz McCool paused for a moment to make sure they were all listening before elaborating, “I have grave tidings, my dear friends. Something that hasn’t happened for many millennia is occurring in our time -– a danger I never thought we’d face in the Modern World.”

The rumble became a hubbub. People were looking at each other, totally perplexed. Utterly fascinated, Felix stared and ripped open a family bag of Maltesers.

Ms McCool passed the flowers to Mrs Murphy, “Let me explain with the help of our Guest of Honour,” she said, looking at the front row, “please stand up Mrs Sparks -- Mrs Sparkes, everyone!” she announced, clapping her hands over her head. Still bewildered, the crowd nevertheless followed her lead and applauded politely. Mrs Sparkes, looking very ill-at-ease, reluctantly set down her teacup, stood up and turned to face the rest of the room. Ms McCool stood behind her and spoke over her shoulder, “Mrs Sparkes, please tell the ladies and gentlemen why you called me.”

Uncharacteristically bashful, Mrs Sparkes  clutched her hand bag to her chest, shuffled her feet, cleared her throat and explained in an apologetic voice, “Erm, well, see... I read about ‘ee in the paper ‘n I thought ‘ee sounded loike ‘ee noo wot ‘ee was talkin’ about, so I called this-‘ere lady ‘ere (Mrs Murphy), an’ she put me through to ‘ee.”

Ms McCool prompted her, “But tell them why you called me.”

“Well, oi works in this-‘ere big ‘ouse, see -- oi can’t say where tis cuz boss is very private man, see -- any’ow, I were dustin’ the boss’ study one noight -- when oi looked ‘n saw this li’l boy in the ol’ mirror -– a ghost, oi think ‘e were -- all black ‘n burned-up, ‘e were -- as if ‘e been in a foire!”

The crowd gasped. They knew the old woman was reliable witness; most of them had spoken to her earlier in the evening and found her to be reluctant and brutally honest, not the type to concoct such an elaborate lie.

Spurred on by the response, she laid it on thick, “Then, coupla weeks ago, we hadda poltergeist! The boss said ‘e seen things movin’ about of their own accord -- books, antique ornaments an’-that -– floyin’ through the air! Oi never seen ‘em floyin’ meself, loike, but oi heard it ‘n oi saw the results -- all these very expensive vases ‘n that -- smashed to pieces! It even pulled down this big grandfather clock off the wall -- a big, heavy brute of a thing -- ‘n sent it crashin’ down on the floor! Boss saw it -- scared outta ‘is wits, ‘e were!!”

The gasps became a din of dismay. Felix chewed noisily and stared, transfixed.

“.... anyways, oi tol’ the boss ‘e should get professional ‘elp and ‘e were so desperate ‘e agreed so I rung this-‘ere woman (she pointed at Mrs Murphy again) ‘n she called Miss McCool. Tha’s me story,” said Mrs Sparkes, ending abruptly, “may God strike me down if oi tell a loie,” and went to sit down; Ms McCool put a hand on her shoulder to stop her -- the old woman looked at it as if it was a white tarantula. “Now I can’t speak to the house’s history, but the poltergeist is indicative of a larger problem,” Mizz McCool informed the room, “the land on which the house was built in the same area where those bog mummies were found a few years ago.” She paused for a second or two to let the tidings sink in, then delivered the coup de gras: “This poltergeist activity is proof that exhumation of those bodies has unleashed a destructive force that is about to wreak havoc upon us all!”

In the uproar that greeted this announcement, Felix took a big swig of Tab and belched loudly. The rude ejaculation silenced the crowd and finally drew him to the attention of Mizz McCool.

“What’s your name, friend?”

His heart leapt. He nodded slowly and answered nervously through a mouthful of Maltesers, “Felix. Felix Costello, M-Mizz Mc-C-Cool. I-I wrote to you about my m-mother.”

Mrs Murphy had a word in her ear. Ms McCool raised a pencilled eyebrow, “Mr Costello, of course. You do indeed write me letters. A lot of letters.”

“One every week for 6 months!” cried Felix, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Mizz McCool, put a finger on her cheek, looked skyward and intoned the name wistfully, “Betty Costello. Betty Costello. She was very gifted. Her Gift was as strong as mine, you know. But she misused it. She took to the Christian church and turned her back on us and denounced us as Satanists. Very galling, I think, coming from a fellow Sensitive; especially someone whom I befriended and treated with the utmost respect. I can only hope that now she has Passed Over she realises the hurt she’s caused.”

Hear-hears all round and a short ripple of applause.

The little speech hadn't wiped the smile off Felix’s face; the delivery was so disarming that he tuned-out after the compliments and just listened to the sound of her voice; when she stopped he just kept nodding and said “Thanks very much, I appreciate it and so will she!”

Ms McCool looked at him askance, then shook her head and said “idiot” under her breath.  “Nevermind, what’s past is past and after all, it is all in the Grand Design, I choose to forgive and forget and move on.” She quickly got back on track and turned her attention back to their guest of honour, “Tell us what happened to your cat Mrs Sparkes, your long-term companion that never left your ankle?”

Surprised by the question, Mrs Sparkes hesitated then answered, “’Umm... ‘E ran away, so ‘e did...”

“Yes! He ran away!” cried Ms McCool, making everyone jump! “Felines are highly Sensitive. They may seem indifferent to the untutored eye, but that’s because the Spirit World is as real to them as the Material World is to us,” she explained enthusiastically, “they see all and they hear all and when something like this comes along, they sense the danger and flee the area. And not just cats, though, eh, Mrs Sparkes?” She asked rhetorically, “in fact, there isn’t a bird or an animal within 12 miles of the house, isn't that right?”

Mrs Sparkes nodded, “Not even a crow.”

Another collective gasp.

“You see what we’re up against?” Ms McCool shook her head and looked around the room like an excitable school teacher, “You see how destructive this power is? The dark magic of an ancient wizard unleashed into the atmosphere?! If it spreads there is no telling what it could do!!”

The crowd were about to explode, but she put up a hand to appeal for silence; when it came, she looked at the floor and mournfully shook her head, “Alas, my friends, I cannot go to a police station and give a statement. The media treat me like a crank,” she looked around the room, “so it’s up to you, my friends -- my allies -- be vigilant. I need you to be my eyes and ears. Watch out for strange behaviour in your neighbourhood –- anything at all -– especially amongst the animal population -- and report back to me. The more evidence I have the more chance I have of proving my case.” She put a hand to her brow and wilted, like a swooning damsel in distress, “As for me, I must save my strength for the final battle. But I can assure you of this, ladies and gentlemen –- I am prepared to fight to the bitter end.”

Utter upheaval! The old ladies’ dentures were clacking, the Goths were clucking, the sissies were squealing, the young girls were too dismayed to do anything other than silent Scream impersonations, all of them asking questions beginning with w. Ms McCool turned away as if she couldn't bear to witness the clamour she’d created. Once Mrs Murphy had calmed them down, there was a brief Q&A, mostly concerning her definition of ‘negative forces’, then the meeting came to a close. As each member filed out, Ms McCool stood by the front door shaking everyone’s hand as they left. Felix straggled until the last disciple had departed, and finally got his face-to-face with his hero. “Mizz McCool, I must say, I thoroughly enjoyed myself this evening!”

She looked over his head with hooded eyes and sneered, “It’s not a ‘show’, Mr Costello. I am not an entertainer.”

He thought for a second and came up with what he thought was the perfect response, “Well, I was utterly hypnotised!”

She cleared her throat, “Mr Costello, I won’t waste time with smalltalk and hypocrisy is not in my nature, so I’ll get straight to the point: true psychics do not do ‘readings’ -- no tarot cards, no séances, no astrology. Your mother used those tropes to perpetrate a fraud and blacken our reputation. I’ve nothing to say to her, in this life or the n...” She suddenly stopped, realised that she would get nowhere by being blunt and adopted a more sympathetic attitude, “Look, if you wish to contact your mother you can talk to her anywhere, she’ll hear you, I promise,” she said, turning to go.

“But I need to apologise and put things right!” said Felix, getting desperate, “I need to hear her say she forgives me! Please, it’s very important.”

“Things change in the Next World: earthly worries and personal woes no longer trouble her now,” she groaned, “there are no vengeful or scornful Spirits on the Other Side and earthly matters no longer concern them. You can rest assured she forgives you -–” She turned away, “Now, if you don’t mind...”

“Out you go!” said Mrs Murphy, grabbing him by both shoulders like a nightclub-bouncer and propelling him out the door -- he tried to say goodbye but the door slammed in his face -- then it immediately opened again -- Mrs Murphy shoved the Black Magic Easter-egg into his hands and slammed it shut again.

He was very impressed. And do you know what? He felt better! He could talk to his mammy wherever he went! She doesn’t care what I do anymore! “Hey you!” an angry voice called out. It was that Mrs Sparkes woman standing at the end of the path, “’Ee’s blockin’ the road! We can’t get past!” she yelled. “Crabbit auld bat,” Felix harrumphed, and looked for his keys in his anorak pockets and went out to the van. When he saw the car waiting for her, he was very surprised indeed: “Wow! A chauffeur-driven Bentley!” he exclaimed to no one in particular. Bit swish for a housekeeper. Hmmm. She said her boss was a very private man. I wonder who he is... He drove the van onto the grass verge at the side of the road and let them pass. He was very curious. Who does she work for? As soon as the car rounded the corner, he looked at his reflection in the rear-view-mirror and said: “How about talking the scenic route, say, via South Kildare?”

...

Carmel McCool and Mrs Murphy were saying goodnight in the hall. “Oh, Mrs Murphy,” Carmel sighed, “I must take to my bed. This evening has drained me so.”

“I’m tired myself. I’ll go to bed once I’ve tidied the room,” said Mrs Murphy, with a kind smile.

They said goodnight and Ms McCool hitched up her dress and climbed the stairs to her room. Mrs Murphy went into the lounge where she stood behind the door and waited till she heard the guestroom door close. Once the coast was clear, she tiptoed back into the hall and opened a locked drawer in the telephone table, and consulted the well-thumbed, yellowing pages of an old address book...

100 miles North, in The Ivy House: Jamie was reading in bed when he heard the phone ring in the great hall. He put down the book and listened. It’s a bit late. I wonder who it could be? It was answered by Fordham the Footman (Jamie recognised the sound of his shoes on the old stone floor) who immediately, and without explanation, transferred the call to Jamie’s room.

“Can I speak to Ogden Castle?” a voice whispered in the earpiece, “it’s me, Mrs Murphy.”

Who the hell is Mrs Murphy? Oggy didn’t mention a Mrs Murphy?! “Ummm... he’s not here at the moment...” he said, confused, “this is Jamie...”

The educated, middle-class tones disappeared and the whisper took on a guttural, rural Irish accent, “Ooh, Jamie Jameson Lumb, is it? Aye, I’ve heard of you, alright. You’re the new Master, aren't ye?” she all-but sneered.

“Listen missus, I have no idea who you are but...”

“You lissen to me!” she hissed, “I’m a Witch! One of them Witches South ‘o the border -- y’know, one of them that auld Castle told to keep an eye on things?!”

Still unsure of whether or not this was a ruse, Jamie decided to hear her out, “Go on...?”

She tutted as if she was talking to an idiot, “Well, there’s been a big resurgence in negative energy round Kildare ‘n it seems to be spreadin’ so it looks like the things auld Castle was worried about have now come to pass!”

Jamie’s jaw dropped, “Shite...”

“Aye, shite.” She took a deep breath and continued, “See, I hadda meeting for some deluded eejits who think they’re psychics -- we haveta keep an eye on ‘em, just in case they accidentally stumble into somethin’ they’re not qualified to deal with. It’s usually a gaggle of quacks and impostors, but tonight the guest of honour was this auld housekeeper who told a story about a poltergeist hauntin’ the place where she works. You know where she works?

“Erm... no...?”

“Pagham House, that’s where! The very place where them bog mummies were dug up!”

His fears were wholly justified. “Oh God... Oggy was right... it’s starting all over again...” he said, worriedly, contemplating the implications.

Mrs Murphy went on to explain she had a houseguest who was causing the fully fledged witches some trouble, “Carmel McCool. She’s from Newry; I invited her down here so we could check ‘er out. She’s only a wee bit psychic, but she’s got enough of a Gift to sense the auld negative energy -- and if a minor Sensitive like her can sense it -- things must be bad! But here’s the worst of it: she’s one of these theatrical types, y’know, one of them that likes to be the centre of attention -- and she’s gotta big mouth on her! She actually went to the Gardai ‘n the papers ‘n tried to tell ‘em all about it!”

His mouth dry with apprehension, he asked “What... what do we do next?”

“Don’t ask me! We've done our bit! We were told to keep an eye on things and report back to you -- it’s up to youse to sort it! After all, you’re the Master now, aren't ya? Ye have the power ‘n all that, dontcha?!” she said, in a mocking voice.

“But... but I don’t have anybody to advise me! Oggy and Xavier and most of the staff have gone down for the Big Sleep......”

“Oh aye? Well, ye better get yer act together ‘n think of somethin’ quick!”

She hung up without saying goodbye. He put down the phone and stared into space. What am I going to do? He’d tried everything bar waking the sleepers; he’d tried to find out something about the mage exhumed from the bog, but now that the Psychosphere was unusable, he couldn't consult the Collective Memory, and there was nothing in the ancient annals in the library. He had no idea whom or what he was dealing with! What the f**k do I do?!

Desperate for help, he went back to the huge crystal ball in the centre of the room and once again tried to contact Ebben Blom in Sweden (the commune didn’t have anything as modern as a phone), but it was useless, the glass was hot and completely fogged-up: interference that can only be created by the presence of negative energy; yet another sign that all was not well and was about to get worse.

It was then he glimpsed a glimmer out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head slowly and looked around the room until his gaze settled on the full-length mirror set against the rear wall. The mirror was misted up too, but in this case the glass was glowing. He watched as the mist slowly parted and an image manifested in the frame: an all-too-familiar figure dressed like a Film Noir private eye walked out of the swirling fog and stood close to the inside of the glass. He pushed back the brim of his fedora and winked.

Jamie’s shoulders dropped. “Bernie bloody Pritchard,” he said, in a voice dripping with irony.

The phantom grinned, “Hello, big brother. I hear you’re havin’ a spot of bother...”

...

The Bentley turned left and disappeared behind a row of yew trees. Felix waited for the lights to disappear from view, then taxied along until he came upon a huge wrought iron gate, the apex of the granite archway laden with razor wire, like a prison. He listened until he heard the car disappear into the distance, then pulled in a few yards up the road, got out and went back to investigate on foot. “Who lives in a house like this?” he asked himself, in that funny voice everybody does. He was looking through the bars, trying to see the house in the distance -- when someone leapt on him from behind, got him in a headlock and forced his head down! “Easy, easy, now, li’l fella or I’ll snap yer fackin’ neck –- so don’t straggle or it’s crunch-time!”

Felix squeaked from under his assailant’s muscular armpit, “Sorry... I got lost... I saw the car pullin’ in and I thought I could get directions...”

The voice growled in his ear, “Wot?! Wiv yer lights off?! Nah, you’ve been tailin’ us since we left that cottage – wot’s your game, pal, eh? Casin’ the joint, is ya, eh? Paparazzi?! Stawkah, is ya?!”

“No, sexual deviant, actually....”

Without warning, Herbie took his arm away, threw Felix to the ground and kicked him four or five times in the midriff and once in the face, bloodying his nose. Herbie watched him writhe in the long grass for a second or two then pulled him up by the ears and shouted into his bloody face, “I don’t wanna see you anywhere near this place again, awright, or next time I’ll tear off yer fackin’ gonads ‘n stick ‘em up yer arse -- got that?! You li’l fackin’ weasel-faced cant!” he picked Felix by the scruff of his neck and the seat of pants and tossed him into the van. “Now fack off!”

Coughing, bleeding and clutching his ribs, Felix struggled to sit up and start up the van. The chauffeur stood and watched until he drove off. “Big bully... Raspo would eat him for breakfast...” he moaned, as he mopped the blood from his nose with a paper hankie, wincing with pain every time he changed gear. He was about to turn off the lane to get back onto the main road when he glimpsed a little figure standing in the trees up ahead.

Hmmmm, what have we here?

It was a little girl. She was cast in shadow so that only the bottom half of her body was illuminated by the headlights, but he could see she was barefoot and wearing what looked like a ragged summer dress.

Very nice.

His aches and pains were momentarily forgotten, this was too good an opportunity to pass up. He threw the hankie onto the floor and slowed to a stop, all the while looking back along the road to make sure no one was watching. When he was certain they were alone, he wound down the window and asked in his nicest voice, “Hello, are you lost?”

No reply.

“It’s very late. Does your mammy know where you are?” he said, squinting into the darkness.

No reply.

“Would you like me to take you home?”

The little girl walked out from under the trees and stood in the twin beams of the van’s headlights.

Felix screamed.

She had no face, just a pair of wild eyes staring out of a blackened skull -- her clothes were no more than charred rags -- her emaciated arms open as if to elicit an embrace -- her mouth gaping as if echoing his scream!

Without thinking, Felix floored the accelerator -- the wheels spun under him --the van lurched forward as it sped off! He closed his eyes and braced himself for impact -- but there was no sound of anything hitting the bumper -- nothing dragging beneath the wheels! He looked in the rear-view mirror and saw her standing in the same place, in the same pose, as if the van had passed straight through her! Felix screamed again...

To be Continued....

[but-iamabidisaster-blog]

Truth or Dare

Thank you again for the 1000 followers~

I am a bit late but whatever at this point

This takes place in a modern AU.

Meliodas' POV

"Ok everybody, I think you wonder why I called you all here tonight"

"Yeah, I was planning to do a movie marathon with Diane tonight" King said with clear boredom in his voice.

"More like Netflix and chill with you two~" Ban teased them while making some dirty gestures with his hands.

"If you guys ended the conversation about King's sex life can I continue explaining?" Since no one was making a sound I countinued "I brought you all here tonight to play a game of Truth or Dare!"

"Really? Truth or Dare? You called all of us here for a game like that?!" Jericho screamed at me.

"First of all, calm your titts. Second of all yes, we are going to play this childish game....but with a twist" When they heard the last part all of them started to look weirdly at me."The twist is that you can avoid to tell a truth or to do a dare by doing something else"

Silence fell over the room until Elizabeth spoke "Something like what, Meliodas?"

"Thank you for asking"I winked making her blush. "You can avoid truth by taking two shots of vodka and you can avoid a dare by taking an item of clothing off of you."

After I finished explaining the twist Merlin imediately turned to face Arthur."I want you to go home now! You are too young for something like this."

"Wait what?! Merlin please let me stay here! Meliodas, can you change the rules a bit for me so that I can stay?" Arthur was making the biggest puppy eyes I've ever seen. I swear to God if this boy tries he can rule the world with his puppy eyes.

"Well...you can do ten push-ups to avoid a dare and drink milk mixed with salt or something like that to avoid the truth." After I finnished with explaining the rules for Arthur I turned to face Merlin "Are these conditions good enough for Arthur to stay?" Merlin just nodded to show that she approved of the new conditions. "Everyone please form a circle in the middle of the room so that we can go clockwise for the game."

"It feels like we are going to summon the devil" Elaine muttered.

"Why would we call my dad?"

"Speaking of your family...where are they at the moment?" Elaine asked.

"The Devi-I mean my dad is out of the town for the next three days while Zeldris is at his girlfriend's house. I hope we won't have any kind of surprises for the next nine months...and Estarossa...I seriously don't know"

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's start the game!"Diane shouted.

"I go first since I am the one that came up with the idea. Elizabeth I dare you-" I didn't got to finnish talking before Diane interupted my.

"MELIODAS, THAT'S NOT FAIR! You have to ask if her if she wants truth or dare!"

"It's ok ,Diane, I am not bothered by this...Meliodas you can continue with your dare." Elizabeth said in a calm tone.

"As I was saying...Elizabeth I dare you to take your shirt off" When I looked at her she was red like a tomatoe making her look even more cute than usual.

"I see that you are going strong from the start~" Ban smirked while looking at the vodka...I hope he won't get drunk after just two shots.

"My-my shirt?!" Her face turned even more red if that was possible.

"Yup, your shirt or if you want you can take off another item of clothing of your choice"

"I am sorry ,Meliodas, but I will have to decline this dare" Still red in the face from embarrassmet she took off one of her socks. Smart move.

Gowther's POV

"My turn! Ban what do you chose?"

"Dare seems like the fun choice~"

"I dare you to eat Meliodas' food!" I said while posing. No one knows when someone will take a photo so I have to always look good.

"HELL NO! I want to live! I refuse the dare, I will take off my shirt or something!" Ban screamed. When I looked at Meliodas a hurt expresion could be seen on his face.

"Ban, that was rude and now I am hurt. Elizabeth, please hug the pain away" While he was doing his over dramatic role he launched right between Elizabeth's boobs.

"There, there..." Elizabeth was petting Meliodas' head.

"Hey everybody! Pay close attention to this show because I will not do it again~" And with that said Ban started to take off his shirt slowly. At the sight of his godly abs Elaine went red in the face and fainted while Jericho had a nosebleed so powerfull to the point where she passed out. Both Elaine and Jericho were out of the game.(Rest In Peace Jericho and Elaine, may the Godly Abs look over both of you in Heaven).

"I-I think I am the next person." Escanor stuttered.

Escanor's POV

"Diane, truth or dare?" I asked her.

"Truth please!" Diane giggled.

"Is it true that-that you were going to-to Netflix and Chill with King?" I stutrered again. Her face started to take become red...did I make her angry?

Diane's POV

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck I don't know. Me ads King were planning to have a movie marathon but I am not sure of it would have lead to that! But If I say no and King was planning to Netflix and Chill.....uumm..."Give me that vodka" I took the two shots of vodka as fast as I could "Elizabeth is the next one!" I yelled to get everyone's attention to her.

Elizabeth's POV

"Umm...Arthur, truth or dare?"

"I want dare, Elizabeth!" Arthur shouted. This boy really has a lot of energy.

"I dare you to...to run around the house for 30 minutes and scream as many memes and vines referances as you can." This seemed like a good dare.

"Sure thing!" Arthur bolted out the door to start his dare. "Two bros chillin in the hot tub 5 feet apart cuz they're not gay!" Was heard from outside.

•• 30 minutes timeskip••

"My throat hurts a little" Arthur mumbled.

"Oh my god I am so sorry! I shouldn't have made you do that!" I apologised to him.

"NO! It's fine! I accepted this and it was fun." He tried to resure me.

Arthur's POV

"Escanor! Truth or dare?" I shouted....I don't think I shoul have, Escanor looks kind of scared now.

"Truth..."

"Ok, I heard that you write poetry, is it true that you have some poems dedicated to Merlin?" Escanor seemed to freeze when I told him this, did I ask something wrong?

"Yes I have some poems but-but they are not for-for Merlin! Not like I hate Merlin or something she is more beautiful than the stars and shines brighter than the sun itself...I think I should probably stop talking..."

"Thank you, Escanor, for your answear." I said trying to calm him down.

Ban's POV

"Now it's my turn~" I looked around the room to decide who will be my victim. "I choose King~"

"ME!" He screamed.

"Yeah, now choose, truth or dare?~" I chuckled.

"Truth, it's far more simple and safe" King whisperd the last part but I still heard it.

"Well, King, is it true that you want to make out with Diane?~" The poor boy freezed when I told him this. Perfect.

"Did I say truth? I meant dare!" King tried to save his ass from that question.

"Sounds fake but whatever, I dare you to make out with Diane right here, right now~"

King look at me right im the eyes before shouting "Never have I ever-"

"That's not the fucking game, King!"

"King!" said Meliodas "For breaking the rules and being a chicken you need a punishment."

King's face went pale just hearing the word punishment "What do you mean by that, Meliodas?"

"Guys, can you move on faster? You make this whole situation sound like some porn video." Merlin said

"How do you know that?~" I started to laugh

"It isn't important now, but I told you this for your own good."

"This became really awkward...King you have to take four shots of vodka and your shirt off" Meliodas said trying to move on from this whole conversation.

While King was taking his shirt off Diane was cheking him out "Diane, when you stop looking at King you should take your turn at the game~.

Diane's POV

"Meliodas, truth or dare" I asked him

"I want a dare!" Meliodas chuckled

"I dare you to stand at three meters distance away from Elizabeth for the rest of the game"

Meliodas started to take off his shirt "Yeah..I will not do that" He goes and puts himself on Elizabeth's lap and places his head on her boobs "Being close to Elizabeth feels nice"

King's POV

"I guess it's my turn now..Merlin, truth or dare?" The room has been spinning a little since I took those four shots of vodka.

"I might as well choose dare, but be careful about what you put me to do." Merlin sighed.

"Sure *hic* thing. I dare you to buy me my *hic* favourite pizza"

"Sounds easy enough, I will do it" She took out her phone to order the pizza.

"While the pizza is *hic* coming I will go to the bathroom cause I don't feel so good *hic*"

I somehow managed to get to the bathroom when I heard Ban screaming "Don't turn into dust in there buddy!~"

"FUCK *hic* YOU BAN!!" I screamed at him making him laugh. I shouldn't have watched Infinity War with him.

••• 3 hours later•••

Zeldris' POV

I was coming home from Gelda's house when I saw the lights on. When I entered the front door I was welcomed by the sight of Meliodas and his friends being either naked , to drunk to function or both. With the exeption of Arthur was sleeping on the couch with his clothes on. After I stared at them for five minutes I took a picture and left the house. I'm sure Gelda is going to welcome me back.

[cookiemunster10]

The Locket

A/N: Just a little drabble I have written while on lunch! I hope you all enjoy! But tonight I’ll write more when I get off work and get home!❤️☺️

Warning(s): None! Just Fluff!!

Pairing(s): Dutch Van Der Linde x Reader

Summary: Dutch and you have been together for a few years now, finally both of you and the gang finally settled down over Horseshoe Overlook. It was your anniversary with your lover, so you got him special gift and same with him. What did he get you??, would you like his gift.

———————————————————————

You and Dutch have been together for a few years even before the blackwater mess. Thankfully you and the others have gotten off the cold mountain and down to Horseshoe Overlook.

Finally Settling back down, Grimshaw started to bark out orders to get everything set up. Dutch was the first one down off the wagon, stretching his arms, letting out a deep chuckle.

“We did it Hosea, my old friend.” He smiled, as he patted his friend on the shoulder. 

“We did, but soon we got to be movin-” Hosea started to speak, when he was interrupted by Dutch.

“You worry to much my friend.” He laughed.

Hosea shook his head with a grunt, mumbling as he walked away helping the others unpacked. Dutch stood there with his hands on his hips, cigar in between his lips. Taking a deep breath smelling the fresh air of spring, the warmth of the sun’s rays shining down on his face. 

You carried a box that was full of stuff that contain you’re and Dutch’s items. Huffing and Puffing as you sat the heavy box down with a thump, Dutch turned around from looking at the scenery. 

“My dear, you should not lift heavy things.” 

Dutch waltzed over to you, you’re eyes watching his every move with love. He pulled you close to him. Both you and Dutch let out a soft, low chuckle, looking up to the man you loved dearly. 

“Oh Dutch, it was just our box full of our stuff.” You smiled softly, placing a hand on Dutch’s chest. 

“i know my dear, but still i can’t be having your hands hurt.” Dutch chuckled. 

Taking your hands into his, lifting them up to his lips and pressing a soft yet gentle kiss to the tops. You giggled as he pulled away, lifting his brown eyes up to you gazing at you’re beauty. 

“You’re very beautiful you know that darling,” He spoke lowly, “like a..like a rose” Dutch gave you a sly smile.

“Oh Dutch, thank you very much..” You whispered, “I Love You Dutch.”

You continued with you’re words softly, as you tried looking away from Dutch’s gaze. Dutch Being Dutch, the romanticizer he was placed his fingers underneath your chin, making you face him. 

“And I love you too my sweetheart.” He smiled, kissing you softly. 

“I Told you two to put up Dutch’s tent first.” Grimshaw hissed out to Lenny and John. 

“Get right on that,” Lenny spoke quickly, “C’mon John.” 

John muttered something underneath his breath as he walked besides Lenny to Get Dutch’s tent up. A soft, tiny giggle escaped your lips as you shook you’re head. 

“What’s the matter darlin’.” Dutch smiled down at you, just shaking your head with a laugh. 

“Just Grimshaw, it’s okay not having our tent up first,” 

“But my love, a king and a queen must need to have their sleeping corridors arranged so.,” He leaned close down to your ear and whispered huskily, “and plus.. we want privacy don’t we,” 

You giggled with a blush appearing on your face, “Of course Dutch.” 

Dutch let out a deep chuckle, and a smiled. Giving a soft kiss on the top of your forehead before pulling away from you, his lover. 

“Now, i must go see how everything is coming along.” He smiled, “Go get yourself comfortable okay.” 

You nodded with a smile, “Of course.”

///

Later that night...

Everything was fixed up,  Everyone’s Tent’s were up  including Your’s and Dutch’s. You sat on the cot that you and him shared, looking at the gift you have gotten him when you went into the small town, called Valentine with Arthur. 

It was a pocket watch, not just any pocket watch a beautiful, golden pocket watch. It was the anniversary between you two, but not once did he mention it to you. You’re heart was a tad bit broken, had he forgotten about it. You mean it was a long day, and the move and him looking after the gang and you it was alot of stress on him. 

You heard the tent flaps swoosh open, quickly hiding the gift from your lover. You recognized the footsteps walking your way, when looking up you seen Dutch standing over you looking down with a cheeky grin.  

“Hi, my sweetheart.” You spoke softly with a soft smile

“Hi.” He deeply chuckled, “I was wondering where you were, i never seen you outside.” 

“Well, sorry handsome i was just was reading.”  You giggled holding up the book, “ I must have lost track of time.” 

“Where you now,” Dutch gave a sly smile, with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah.” 

Dutch sat down next to you on the cot, pulling you next to him. He knew something was going on with you. Could he sense that you were upset by him not saying anything about you’re anniversary with him. 

“Y/N.” Dutch whispered, “ What’s the matter.” 

“Nothing Dutch, just nothing.” You smiled, “I’m just fine sweetheart i promise.” 

You’re thought’s started to run now, was the gift you had gotten him..was it a waste of time..and money. Worry started to set in your mind about it, but Dutch spoke softly to you, taking you’re hand’s into his. The worry that you had just now started to slowly disappear. 

“My dear, You have been with me since the whole blackwater mess..and you have truly have been besides me..and not gave up on me.” He spoke softly, “Like Evelyn Miller would say, Everyone needs a great companion.”  

Dutch leaned over to you, placing his lips against your’s the kiss becoming heated but pulled away. 

Tears started to spill out your eyes, from the words Dutch had spoke to you. Dutch noticed a tear run down your cheek, taking his thumb wiping it away. Pulling away, Dutch stood up and moved over to the wooden chest. When Opening it,  Duth removed a small box, You’re heart started to beat faster and faster..was it..could it be..could it be a ring??.

He sat back down on the cot with you, handing you a small box. You sniffled with a smile as you took the box away from Dutch.

“Oh Dutch, you shouldn’t have.” 

“Darling you deserve it, everything we have all been through..you and i..and the gang.” He spoke with a smile. 

You opened the box, what revealed was a small chain with a gold heart. You’re mouth dropped, tears returned to you eyes. Words could not escape you mouth, of how grateful you were. 

Dutch nodded his head, “Go on, take it out of the box and i’ll put it on.”

A great big smile was plastered on your face, from ear to ear you couldn’t stop smiling, sniffling, and lastly crying. All the emotions hit you at once, taking the golden necklace with the heart on it out of the box with ease. 

Dutch smiled, “Happy Anniversary, my love..i hope you love it.” 

Chuckling deeply, Dutch took the necklace carefully from her hands and placed it around his lover’s neck and clasped it together. Letting go of your hair, making it fall back in place. 

“Oh Dutch, it’s so beautiful, i-i im just this must.” you whispered, “i-i Dutch.” 

He chuckled, “Cat got your tongue” He kissed you before continuing, “I’m glad you adore it sweetheart..and only the finest things for my woman.” 

You giggled, touching the necklace admiring it. Dutch couldn’t help but lean back and admire you admiring yourself in the mirror. Just then Dutch told you to open up the heart, which you did. You even started to love it even more, it was a locket. 

A heart shaped locket, that held a picture of you and Dutch a photo taken a long ago. You started to bawl your eyes out again, your gift was just a small pocket watch, nothing to big or fancy. Now you were afraid to show it to your man, but you grabbed the gift anyway. 

“Here.” you sniffled, you handed him his gift.

Taking the small gift from your small hands, you watched him smile down at the gift before opening it. When finally opening the package, there was nothing but silence in the air. 

Panic and Fear started to set in making your mind rush around again. Then you heard a small sniffle. You looked over at Dutch, picking up the golden pocket watch that you had gotten him.

“I hope you like it, darling.” You smiled softly with a blush, “I hope you like it and enjoy it.”

“Of course my dear why wouldn’t i, it’s the perfect gift i could even imagine.”  Dutch stated with a grin, “its the watch i have been looking for.” 

Soon, your lover pulled you onto his lap his arms wrapped  around your waist holding unto you tightly. You wiggled around in his lap to get comfortable. Both of you chuckling.

“Relax Darling, i promise okay.” he whispered gentle words, “okay just relax .”

You chuckled with a soft huff escaping your lips, laying your head on his shoulder and his hand on his chest. 

“i really do love my gift sweetheart.” Dutch chuckled,” I really do.. its the perfect gift i have ever received.”

You smiled, while your nimble fingers played with the necklace he had gotten you. Your eyes watching him put the pocket watch in his vest pocket making sure that it was safe. 

This was the greatest annivarsey ever, that the both of you had. Dutch enjoyed the Pocket Watch he had now just gotten from you and you enjoyed the Heart shaped locket that he had gotten for you!

[bellamyblakru]

recently followed and have been reading all your fics- can I request the bad things bingo “reopening an old wound” with Arthur being too tough to stay in bed like gaius said and Merlin taking care of him 🥺

HELLO OMG. this is so kind🥺thank you for following and reading my fics!! it truly means a lot to me🥺💞 i hope this doesn’t disappoint!! (also you sent this like over a week ago ajsmaja im so sorry it took me so long. i wrote this instead of sleeping tonight just for you😌🙌🏻)

here it is on ao3 and down below!! thank you so much again🥺

Merlin was going to strap Arthur to his bed—and not in the fun way. The dollophead was just so adamant in joining this stupid tournament he was hosting for the dignitaries that came from Nemeth.

“Merlin,” Arthur drawled out in that totally-not-endearing-way he does, “we’ve been over this! I must participate. I am King for a reason! I cannot back down. How would I look to them? Cowardly?” He scoffed at Merlin, who was scowling at the fireplace to refrain from magicking the king to another land for the entirety of the tournament.

“Stop that.” Arthur demanded, coming to sit down next to Merlin.

“I didn’t do anything.”

Arthur huffed, “You’re thinking about doing something illegal to get me out of this.”

Merlin frowned, “No. I wasn’t.”

“Hmhmm,” Arthur sang in disbelief, “I’m sure.”

Merlin sighed in defeat, “Arthur, you just started healing from the hunting accident and you know Gaius will be crossed that you directly went against his advice to stay in bed.”

Arthur folded his arms against his chest, “I’m not scared of going against Gaius, Merlin.”

Merlin smirked, “Now who’s lying?”

Arthur slumped against the front of the chair, “Alright, Gaius can be scary. But I’ve already made up my mind. And if anything does happen to me, you’ll be there anyways, right? What’s to worry about?”

Merlin conceded to that, “Fine, but just know I’ll be mad the entire time.”

Arthur let out a light laugh, placing his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, “I can live with that.”

Merlin fake scowled at him, making Arthur laugh again, so, just because he could, he magicked a pillow to hit the King’s face—this led to a very dignified pillow fight that both will profusely refuse happened later.

~~~~~~~~~~

Arthur wouldn’t say he regretted participating per se, but when his shoulder started pounding and, if he looked at it for longer than three seconds, blood may be seeping through his tunic, he can’t really say he was happy with his early choices.

Not that he would tell Merlin this, of course, who was giving him a waterskin with narrowed eyes.

“Arthur.”

“Hmm?” Arthur was staring at the two men fighting in the arena, each wielding quarterstaffs, who were amateur fighters at best.

“You’re favoring your right side, did you know that?”

Arthur’s head snapped to Merlin, “What? No I’m not.”

Merlin scowled at him, “You’re lying!”

Arthur pouted, “No I’m not.”

Merlin gasped, pointing a finger in his chest, “You’re doing it again! Arthur, you have some tells, you know.”

Arthur swatted away the finger, “No I don’t.”

Merlin, the idiot, laughed, “No? You always raise your eyebrows a bit when you lie, sire , and I know this for a fact.”

Arthur frowned, he thought he grew out of that, “No one can ever tell! I have to lie all the time in court and no one ever calls me out!”

Merlin sighed, rather dramatically, “Arthur, they also didn’t spend every godforsaken second for years memorizing your emotions as I did.”

Arthur tilted his head, contemplating that, “Why did you do that?”

That took Merlin off guard, which Arthur had hoped for, giving his servant a sly smile, as Merlin went violently red, a flush coming up from his neck to his ears, “What else was I supposed to do? I look at your face for the majority of the day, Arthur. I’m sure you know all my tells as well.”

Arthur hummed nonchalantly, “Whatever you say, Merlin.”

He did know all of Merlin’s mannerisms and what they meant, but he wasn’t going to say that nor was that his goal here.

Merlin shook his head, the momentarily forgotten anger returning, “That wasn’t the point! You’re hurt!”

At the same time Arthur opened his mouth to lie again, he was called out for his next match. That was his goal—to distract the mother hen of a servant until it was too late.

With a what can you do? shrug, that made Merlin frown more, Arthur quickly spun and walked onto the field, ignoring the burning stare of his worried warlock at his back.

~~~~~~~~~~

Merlin groaned as Arthur won the match, again. The idiot was hurting himself. Merlin could tell by the subtle weight changes to his right side, the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes, the way he paled slightly when Gwaine slapped him on the shoulder in congratulations.

He couldn’t believe this was the man he fell in love with. Destiny was a cruel thing indeed.

Merlin watched as Arthur let himself be manhandled by his knights, and Merlin couldn’t help but realize that put the entire gaggle of men in armor between them. Merlin narrowed his eyes at the rather clever tactic by his king.

As if sensing his disappointing glare, Arthur’s eyes found his. At least this time Arthur looked marginally apologetic, but not enough for Merlin’s taste. Was it really so bad that Merlin actually cared for Arthur’s well-being more than a stupid tournament?

He couldn’t fathom this. How was hitting people worth the pain Arthur must be in? Merlin grimaced when Leon slung his arm over the king, who imperceptibly winced at the movement.

When the next round called up, Merlin wanted to slam his head against the fence. Arthur was going against a sorcerer this round, because apparently the Merlin didn’t have enough to worry about as it was.

The sorcerer bounced on her heels, smiling at the king. Arthur smiled back, if not a little perplexed at the bubbly nature of the woman, and they shook hands.

Maybe this won’t go horribly wrong?

But when it began, Merlin recanted his statement vehemently. Of course it would go horribly wrong, it was Arthur he was talking about.

When the woman swung her quarterstaff at Arthur’s injured shoulder with her eyes glowing, Merlin jumped out of his seat. He ran into the field the second the staff hit its mark: Arthur went even more pale, and with a loud pained gasp, let go of his sword, landing roughly on his knees, grasping his shoulder.

Merlin didn’t hesitate. He took a stance between his king and the sorcerer, making Arthur’s blade fly into his own hand.

“Sorry, this ends now,” and with a swing of his sword, his eyes glowing the deepest golden, he attacked. Relentless, hurried, and cursing, Merlin had the woman at sword point in the matter of seconds—without breaking a sweat.

The woman’s eyes widened at the sword, hastily backing away with “I yield, my lord.”

Merlin wasn’t a lord, but he didn’t care to correct her as he handed the sword to Lance and went to Arthur’s side.

“That was a little overdramatic, don’t you think?” Arthur sighed out, pain clearly seen on his face, trying to make eye contact with Merlin.

Merlin grumbled, “Not remotely enough.”

Arthur let out a breathless, and delirious, laugh, “I think I’m bleeding out.”

And before anyone came closer, Merlin’s magic flared up.

The second he looked up, he realized that his magic brought them to Arthur’s chambers. With a small sigh of relief, Merlin made all the armor fall off and lifted Arthur’s tunic from over his head gently—hissing at the reopened wound pouring out blood.

“Arthur! You should have said something,” Merlin scolded, placing his hands of the opening and imagining the skin stitching itself back together—this would hold until Gaius came up and fixed Arthur himself.

Arthur looked at Merlin through clouded eyes, smiling softly, “Yeah, but what’s the fun in that?”

Merlin couldn’t help but soften at the look on Arthur’s face, “Careful, sire, keep looking at me like that and one could think you were besotted.”

Arthur murmured, “Indeed.”

Merlin was about to say something, not knowing what it would be, when Gaius crashed through the room with his healing bag in tow.

“Thank gods,” Merlin pushed himself out of the way as Gaius worked, helping him move Arthur to his bed when he was all patched up once more.

Arthur was lightly sleeping when Gaius made Merlin swear to magic the king down if he tried to move at all, and when Merlin swore his life on it, the old healer left them to their own devices.

An hour or two later, Merlin still hadn’t left Arthur’s chambers. He was currently sitting besides the king, placing a cool cloth to Arthur’s forehead, running his fingers through the golden sweat-soaked hair.

Merlin was singing softly when Arthur slowly opened his eyes.

“Merlin?”

“Arthur! How do you feel?”

Arthur groaned a little, trying to sit up, as he answered, “Not too good, I have to say.”

Merlin snorted, “Well serves you right. I told you that this was an idiotic plan. Why did you even do it? You have nothing to prove.”

Arthur was quiet for a minute as Merlin placed more pillows under him to make the king more comfortable, “I have everything to prove.”

Merlin sat back, confused, “To who? Camelot already adores you Arthur, and you’ve only been king for less than a year!”

Arthur sighed, leaning his head back, “To you, to myself, to my knights.”

At Merlin’s continued confused silence, Arthur made himself look at him, “To my knights, to show them that I can persevere. To myself, since this was the first tournament as King. And, to you, to show you that your devotion was worth it. That I was worth it.”

Merlin gaped, “Arthur! You have nothing to prove to me. Ever.” but when Arthur scoffed and looked away, Merlin lightly grabbed Arthur’s face and turned it to make Arthur see the truth written in Merlin’s eyes.

“Arthur, you are my king, now and always. I chose you because I knew that you are everything beautiful in this world. I give you my magic, my heart, and my life, because I know, in my soul, that you are the best person I will ever know. I never doubt my devotion to you because you prove time and time again how worthy you are of every title you bear. You are not only the best King to grace this land, but you are the very best of us. I know you, Arthur Pendragon, inside and out—so, please, never doubt your worth to me.”

Merlin lightly rubbed the tear off Arthur’s face that had slipped out, and Merlin muttered, “And if you ever try to fight with a recently closed wound again, after I specifically tell you not to, then I will find a way to strap you here and never let you leave my sight again.”

Arthur let out a small wet laugh at that, grabbing Merlin’s wrist. And while rubbing small circles there, that had Merlin’s pulse quickening, “I don’t know,” Arthur whispered, “when you defended me like that on the field, it was quite attractive. I would have appreciated it more if I hadn’t been bleeding out and delirious.”

Merlin laughed under his breath, “I should apologize to her, huh?”

Arthur shrugged his good shoulder, “You can after.”

Merlin quirked an eyebrow, “After what?”

Arthur gave a playful smile as he pulled Merlin into a kiss by his neckerchief. Merlin gasped, quickly reciprocating, a small smile forming at his lips.

And when they pulled back, foreheads resting on each other, Arthur quietly breathed out, “I love you too.”

[incensuous]

thanks for the tag @cyanis-art <3! happy holidays to everyone :) hope everyone is doing okay for the season

1. nickname: don’t really have one, my friend and i came up with “Tine” as a joke 2. zodiac: Pisces 3. height: 5′1″ 4. hogwarts house: i know in my heart of hearts i’m a hufflepuff, but pottermore told me “gryffindor” and i don’t have time to take this case to court so 5. last thing i googled: been constantly googling things about sTARDEW VALLEY - ex. “why can’t i go to elliot’s house when i have 5 hearts with him???” 6. favourite musicians: i like a lot of basic popular music like post malone and billie eilish. as for my more personal artists: Nell, Odesza, Jay Park 7. song stuck in my head: empty space - james arthur, and also the winter theme of stardew valley 8. following: any incest blog. got primarily incest stuff on your blog? PLEASE holla at me 9. followers: my friends!!! sorry if you didn’t realize when you followed me, you’re my friend but you are!! i don’t make the rules 10. do you get asks: once in a blue moon and i get excited each time! will it be someone condemning me to hell or a friend?! the possibilities! 11. amount of sleep: anywhere from 4-9 hrs of sleep on weekdays and even more variable on weekends

12.what are you wearing: gray hoodie and black shorts 13. dream job: insert tweet about “No work. I don’t dream of labor.” aka being rich is my dream job :-) 14. dream trip: the world (only made possible by please see above), i’d start with a few months in japan tho because i miss it every day  15. instruments: used to play piano but havent touched it in years because i am bad at practicing 16. languages: very little vietnamese and english (barely any chinese) 17. 10 favourite songs as of now: i hate doing these but the ones right now--

hot girl bummer - blackbear

better - khalid

everything i wanted - billie eilish

all the kids are depressed - jeremy zucker

empty space - james arthur

in this place - julia michaels

saint-tropez - post malone

godless - banks

live fast - alan walker

a moment apart - odesza

special holiday mention to: hallelujah - pentatonix (feel free to rec songs if you want)

18. if you were an animal: i’d love to be a cat and assume my rightful place as king amongst men 19. favourite food: what isnt my favorite food but i’ll say junk trashy food, also pastries 20. random fact: i’ve had stardew valley for 3.5 days and i’ve played 34 hours so far lmao. PS if y’all want a cute beautiful game--highly recommend Rumu 21. my aesthetic: (im fully aware i will never achieve this) minimalism, clean lines, neutral colors, gray/white mostly, soft linens, small souvenirs and keepsakes, a novelty sized check granting me $100 million--im describing my dream home

tagging @mcrisbackk @thecloserkin @anisiscon @azdaema​ @sansana2000 @whitemantis-stash @the-velveteen-prince @shuuspillow @dunnetwins only if you want to :D

[sympathyfortheblinderdevil]

The Cursed Side of This Family Chapter 5

(look here for chapter 4)         (look here for Chapter 6)

Slow burn, Tommy x Esme, grief, guilt, lust, drugs…What’s not to love?

In this installment, Esme has a sexy flashback...

Drifting in and out of sleep, Esme could not seem to find the rest that she needed. She was all out of smoke, and wouldn’t dare ask Tommy if he had any, even though she knew that he would sometimes use it to help him quiet his mind when nothing else would.

She got out of bed and tiptoed to the window. Drawing the lace curtain aside and looking down on watery lane, she recalled that this was not the first time that Thomas Shelby left her flushed, confused, and restless.

Her thoughts wandered back to an accidental late night meeting in Charlie’s yard. John had come home drunk, loud, and smelling of whores one too many times. Esme had practically thrown the baby into his arms and then stalked out the door, leaving him with a houseful of newly woken, bawling children. “Fuck you, Esme!” John slurred at her back as she walked away.

“It’ll be cold day in hell before you get the pleasure again,” she roared through gritted teeth as she stormed down the lane. Their relationship had always been odd. Fixed. Arranged. But, the spark of passion was there from the first night, for both of them, and it always hurt her when he strayed. They viciously fought, but making-up was always sweet. She knew that tomorrow morning he would pick a bouquet of wildflowers, bring her tea in bed, and put his head in her lap. He’d be all baleful looks and tears, begging for her forgiveness. As always, she would forgive him.

Tonight, however, Esme was full of devilment. She half considered going into the Garrison to even the score. There was no doubt she could find someone with which to spend the night.  She was not a conventional beauty, but she was sexy. A riot of wild black hair tumbled over her shoulders and down her back, her black eyes flashed under their sweeping lashes, and the curves of her body had only become more supple and pronounced in motherhood. She was everything a man could want in his bed, but she didn’t want any man’s bed. As easy as it would have been to make John pay for his indiscretions by knowing that she had fucked another man, she could never go through with it. Her heart wouldn’t let her, and it would be as good as a death warrant for the poor man whom she bedded.

The night air was crisp and felt good in her lungs, cooling her down and helping her to gain control of her emotions. She boldly decided to walk as far as Charlie’s yard. One of her favorite mares had delivered a foal, and she had yet to see it. The horses always helped her to see sense. She’d always said that she’d been born riding, and that wasn’t far from the truth. Growing up on the road, horses were a part of her everyday life before she could crawl. Their gentle majesty grounded her, and in the crazy world of Small Heath Esme needed to visit them often. The risk of walking through the dark streets was well worth it to her if she ended up at the stables.

As she approached the stables, she noticed a faint light and thought that maybe Curly had come down to check on the new foal. She called out, “Curly, it’s just me, Esme. I’ve come to see the black mare and her…” Before she could finish, the door swung open and Tommy, wild eyed, stood in the doorway. “Come on in, Esme. Don’t let me stop you.”

“I…I didn’t know you were here, Thomas.”

“Does it matter?”

“No…” it sounded like a question coming out of her mouth, but she could see that something was definitely very wrong with Tommy and she didn’t know quite how to approach him. Tommy wasn’t wearing his usual jacket. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and his shirt was soaked with sweat

Esme carefully ventured a question, “Where’s the foal?”

“Dead. He didn’t make it.” Peering from the shadows, he never broke eye contact as he spoke to her, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. As he spoke, the familiar scent of whiskey reached Esme’s nose.

“I’m sorry Thomas.” Esme spoke softly, carefully, almost as if she was speaking to a horse that could easily spook.

“No need for that. It’s all part of it, eh?” he lied.

But she knew better. Thomas Shelby never lost his cool. He could stare down the barrel of a gun without flinching, but the death of the foal had shaken him. He loved horses more than he could love most people. That was something that he and Esme had in common. He stepped into the light and she noticed that his eyes, which had finally shifted away hers, were red and wet.

“Couldn’t wait until morning to see an ‘orse? Don’t you think the streets of Small Heath are a bit more hospitable in the light of day?” As he spoke he handed Esme a nearly empty bottle of whiskey.

Taking the bottle, Esme snarled, “Your pig of a brother came home drunk and smelling of whores. It was either leave the house or gut him with a kitchen knife.” She drained the remaining contents of the bottle and handed it back to Tommy.

Tommy barely suppressed a low chuckle.

“It’s not funny, Thomas.”

“You’re right, my girl. It’s not. He should treat you with a bit more respect. At least wash up and put on a fresh shirt before he crawls home.”

“Fuck you, Thomas.”

“Oh, come on, Esme. I’m only pointing out the absurdity of the situation. Why on earth would he need to fuck whores when he has you at home? I would never do that to you.”

Esme felt a warmth run down her spine at his words, for they were spoken softly and sincerely. When Tommy raised his icy blue gaze back to hers, she could feel her cheeks flush and her stomach draw into a knot.

“Thank you, Thomas.” She whispered.

The corners of his lips raised a little, almost into a smile, but not quite.

His words implied an affection for her that she never knew had existed, and her mind slid sideways. Thomas actually cared about her. The king of Small Heath, with his razor crown, had a beating heart after all. They stood in thick silence for what seemed like hours. Their eyes locked on to each other until it felt, surreally, like they were drawing closer.

“Right then. Let’s get you home. I don’t want you wandering the streets of Small Heath at this hour. A bit unseemly, don’t you think?” Tommy spoke, and the spell was broken.

Tommy led her to a stall which held a white stallion. “How ‘bout I take you home on ‘im?”

Esme lit up as the horse nuzzled her hand. “He’s beautiful, Tom. Where’d you get him?”

“Won ‘im off Johnny Dogs. One day that Gypsy bastard will learn not to bet against me.”

Esme laughed, in spite of herself. She knew that Tommy’s Grandfather was a Gypsy King, and he meant no harm against her kin.

The night was getting colder by the minute, and Esme was grateful for the warmth that the whiskey had provided. Tommy pulled his coat on, and grabbed an extra one that he kept at the stables.

“Here, put this on. It’s gotten colder since you came in.”

Esme gratefully bundled up in Tommy’s coat. It smelled like Tommy’s sweat, whiskey, horses, and smoke- a smell not very unlike John’s.

Outside on the gravel Tommy helped her mount. She hitched her dress up and swung her leg over, a little embarrassed at the view that Tommy would have. She was more embarrassed when she saw the red state of his ears as he mounted behind her. Tommy clicked his tongue and the horse began to lope down the lane.  Riding through the streets bareback, Esme had to grip the horse with her thighs. Simultaneously, she could feel the warmth of Tommy’s body at her back and his slow steady breath on her ear.

She had never been this close to him before. Tommy had always kept a carefully guarded distance from her. Where Arthur’s demeanor always had the rough affection of a brother, with his bear hugs and mussing up her hair, Tommy always kept a formal tone. Now, she was sat between his thighs, and rocking movement of the horse did little to quiet the stirring she felt between hers.

As they rode past the BSA, flames from the forge spooked the stallion, and he reared up on his back legs. Tommy gripped Esme tightly to him, leaving no room between them. She could feel his heart racing against her back, and she soon realized that he had his chin on her shoulder and his cheek pressed to her’s. His hand was just under her breasts, strong and insistent. He pulled the reins and spoke in rich, low tones to the animal, shushing and reassuring him. Even with all the whiskey Tommy had consumed, he kept a clear head when it came to horses, and he soon had the stallion calmed down. Esme caught her breath and relaxed against Tommy’s chest. It took a second too long for him to loosen his grip on her waist and for his chin to leave her shoulder, but Esme didn’t mind.

They soon were at the door to the house she shared with John, who burst out into the street the second that they rode up.

Tommy dismounted first. “I have brought your wife home, Brother. I need a word with you.”

They walked a few feet away and Tommy bent down, his mouth close to John’s ear. He murmured something that made John’s head snap up. John glared at Tommy defiantly. Tommy put his hand on the back of John’s neck and pulled him closer again. He hissed something into John’s ear and John nodded his resignation to whatever Tommy had said.

Tommy returned to help Esme down, and once she was on the ground he faced her. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble out of him for a while.”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles, Thomas Shelby.” Esme snapped, immediately regretting her harsh tone. “But, thank you. For everything,” she said with a much softer voice.

Once inside the house, John started babbling a stream of apologies. Esme held her hand up to him, and said, “Just leave it, John. I’ll be up in a bit.”

John went up the stairs, and Esme fixed herself a glass of whiskey. She swirled the amber liquid and smiled. It smelled like Thomas. Tomorrow, she would be John’s faithful and loving wife, but tonight, in John’s bed, she’d close her eyes and imagine herself getting up to a little devilment.

(Look here for Chapter 6)

[elliotthezubat]

DEATH CITY DAYS CHAPTER 86

in which we learn a story from twain’s childhood, fire brigade training, a new base for a certain group, and hibana giving tamaki a pep talk

twain: are we theeere yeeeeet? Hemingway: "Twain, how many days has it been?" twain:...three i think? its hard to keep track, hehe. Hemingway: "Then the answer 'yes.' We are here." twain: FOR REAL?! emily: *chop* bad hemingway. we arent there yet. twain: mean. =3= ..... i ever tell you about the summer i spent on a raft? *They're passing a sign that says '150 miles to Chicago'* Hemingway: *rubbing his head* "Nah..." twain: well, i got this raft and decided to take a trip down the mississippi river. and i saw all kinds of crazy things. like a feud between two rival families, an almost murder, but the craziest part is when my raft got taken over by these two conmen, called themselves 'the duke' and 'the king'. emily: oh wow. twain: isnt that scary? picture it. 11-year-old me, on a raft with two guys who could kill me at any time probably. luckily i did manage to escape and get them arrested during one of their schemes. and later, who do i run into by my ol friend sunny davis and her dad. they were down in alabama visiting her grandparents and mr davis gave me a ride back home, and oh man, did aunt polly give me the scolding of a lifetime. Hemingway: "That's an adventure. Ever look up what happened to Duke and King?" twain: *shrug* not sure really. probably in jail for all i know. plus i dont know what their actual names were. 737; Hemingway: "Huh...How did you even build a raft?" twain: hard work and determination. Hemingway: "I mean...you just don't seem like the determined type." twain: hey, cut me some slack! i can be very determined when i put my mind to it! >3< i might not be the best at school smarts, but im not dumb. Hemingway: "Ever go hunting?" twain: i think so. i've gone trapping. my bro and i caught rabbits, squirrels, stuff like that. aunt polly made us release them though. Hemingway: "Hmm...We are low on food. I say we pull over and--" emily: here's a place. Hemingway: "??? That's just a pit stop. I meant a place to go hunting, like a park, or a zoo--" emily: ERNEST NO. Hemingway: "...I'm buying all the beef jerky they got." *pouts* -elsewhere- Kid: *his hair is still blown back* -_____-# stocking: *head pets* Kid: "It took me by such surprise..." stocking: i can imagine. Kid: *sighs* *holds her hand* "I'll miss you." stocking: i'll be back before you know it. *kiss* Kid: ^\\\^ "I'm counting on it." -elsewhere- Damon: *eating pasta* soul: tastes delicious, right? Damon: "..." ^w^ becky: =u= *nom* Damon: "Can I have more of the sauce?" soul: sure thing, kiddo. ^^ Damon: "...Thank you, um..." soul: ?? Damon: "...N-Nothing..." soul:....take your time. *weak smile* -elsewhere- Hyde: *shakes a jar of cinnamon onto a bag of popcorn* romina: aw yeah, movie night! julian: *monotone* yaaay. Hyde: "What we got to watch?" -elsewhere- Fitzgerald: "You two comfortable?" erina: i-i think so... Jordan: ^w^ "Thank you for hosting, sir!" Fitzgerald: "...Is that a Daffy Duck tie, Jordan?" Jordan: "...It's all I got..." erina:...it's fine. Fitzgerald: "..." *looks at Louisa* louisa: ^^; Daisy: "So, you work security?" erina: at the mall, yes. Daisy: "Busting up punk kids loitering and shoplifting?" erina: yeah. Daisy: "You take their pot?" erina: ._. louisa: miss fay! Daisy: "Just making conversation." Jordan: ^^;;; "Heh...Daisy...What a kidder..." Fitzgerald: "You were previously at the prison?" erina:.....................................yes..... Jordan: "...You don't have to talk about it." erina:...... Jordan: "...Hey, I like your hair." erina:...thanks. Jordan: ^w^ "We got a lot of food options. What you hungry for?" -elsewhere- Tanizaki: *snore* sylvia: ..... Kyoka: *puts a blanket over Tanizaki* "You find a pillow?" sylvia: *clings to hers* Kyoka: "??? What's wrong?" sylvia: n-nothing.... Kyoka: "..." *hug* sylvia: !!!! Kyoka: "It's okay...If you're afraid, we're here for you." sylvia: *shakes* p-please....dont touch me..m-my a-ability.... Kyoka: "..." *pulls back* "Sorry. But...you wouldn't try to hurt me anyway." sylvia: n-not at all, miss kyouka, i-i dont want to hurt anyone! b-but what if i fall and get hurt while- Kyoka: "Then we'll make sure you don't fall. Or, you know, that it's just, like, tripping on the rug or something, not like falling off a rooftop." sylvia: .~.;;;; Tanizaki: *turns over on the couch--and falls off it* sylvia: EEP! >A< Tanizaki: "..." *yawns* *looks up at the ceiling* "...What time is it?" Kyoka: "About 8:30. At night." Tanizaki: "..." *grunts* "I better text Naomi..." sylvia: ....it must be nice....having a sibling.... Tanizaki: "..." *smiles* "Yeah. Naomi means the world to me." sylvia: ....do you...have parents? Tanizaki: "..." *awkward smile* "Who doesn't?" ^^; sylvia:............. Q________Q Kyoka: *hard glare* Tanizaki: ._____.;;;; "...S-Sorry." -morning- Bon: *asleep in the tent* *snoring* Rin: =____= "It went all night." konekomaru: ^^; Yukio: "Perhaps you should have packed earplugs." Rin: -_-# *kicks Bon* Bon: "UMPH!" *sits up, looks around* "...Wait, what happened?" konekomaru: well, we better get started. i heard there was a spot with a great view of a waterfall. Bon: =___= "I barely slept thanks to cold feet kicking me all night." Rin: -3- Yukio: "Konekomaru, got the map laid out to the waterfalls?" konekomaru *nod* Yukio: "Well, get your shoes on, and let's go." Bon: *already tying his* Rin: -_- "I'm coming, I'm coming..." -elsewhere- shiemi: *yaaawn* morning. seiya: good morning, miss moriyama. Shura: =_= *scratches, burps* seiya: -.-; Izumo: *looking outside* "Wow..." shiemi: *also looks out the window* it's a nice little village. stocking: yeah. Izumo: "Quiet...Peaceful." Shura: *stretching* "Where's breakfast?" seiya: it should be downstairs. *puts on robe* Izumo: "What will they have?" *grabs a robe* -elsewhere- Kid: *looking into his cup of tea* liz: hey, it's only for a few days, cheer up. *smile* Kid: "..." *nods* "I just...miss her." liz: *pap pap* lord death: she'll be alright. and she'll be home before you know it! -elsewhere- kirako: *checking the mail*.... oh! Kyoka: "???" kirako: mr fukuzawa, you have a letter! Fukuzawa: *examines it* "...Amazing." naomi: what is it? Fukuzawa: "...We are being honored." atsushi: for real? Fukuzawa: *nods* "For our contributions in the capture of Dostoyevsky." ranpo: ... aya: AWESOMESAUCE! yosano: even though it was the government and manhasset that caught him? Fukuzawa: "If not for the work of many of our members, we could not have pursued the culprits to their location--and rescue others who had been captured." yosano: right... atsushi:... Fukuzawa: "And I think we know who should accept the award--" Dazai: *shiny eyes* kenji: *looks at kunikida* Kunikida: "...Sir...I did nothing. I must decline." Fukuzawa: "..." kirako: then why dont you do it sir? Dazai: *puppy dog eyes* Fukuzawa: "...Very well." atsushi:...*pats dazai on the back* Dazai: Q_Q Fukuzawa: "It makes sense, I suppose, to accept it on behalf of all of us." -applause- atsushi: maybe next time, dazai. Dazai: "I'll make my own trophy from money I make on the horses..." atsushi: ._.; Kunikida: "You spend it on your child." yosano: *nod* Dazai: "...I mean, obviously..." >_> kirako: ^^; Kyoka: "Will you get to pose for a photo, sir?" Fukuzawa: "...I suppose?" -elsewhere- Kafka: *still in bed* "Zzz..." wilhelm: *sneak sneak sneak sneak* Jakob: -w- *follows* Kafka: *muttering* <Stop...Not my fault...> wilhelm: *has shaving cream out* Jakob: *holds a feather...* Kafka: *his arm hangs over the bed* wilhelm: *sprays the shaving cream* hehehe Kafka: *small grunt...calms down* "...Zzz..." Jakob: *takes the feather...tickles Kafka's nose* Kafka: *scrunches his face...he hasn't swung his arm yet* wilhelm: >w< Jakob: *one more tickle* Kafka: <No, stop--> *swing--* *SPLAT* wilhelm: XD Kafka: "Wh-What?!" *bolts up out of bed--landing on his face* wilhelm: *laughs* Jakob: "Heeheehee!" Kafka: "..." *shriek* wilhelm: *runs* Jakob: *follows* Kafka: *scurrying, practically on all fours, looking like a rabid dog* wilhelm: *laughs* george: ._.;;; Kafka: "I'LL RIP YOU BRATS LIMB FROM LIMB--" george: .____.;;; Kafka: *leaps* *loud angry noise as he tries to grab the twins* -YOINK- hans: -_-; Kafka: *hissing noises, hanging off the floor* "LET ME AT 'EM!" hans: kafka, breathe. Kafka: *inhales* "...I WAS TRYING TO SLEEP WHEN THEY DID THIS TO ME!!!" hans: *looks at the twins* Jakob: *practically has an angel's halo over his head* wilhelm: *puppy eyes* hans:......well, at least you didnt do something like murder him. Kafka: "THAT'S IT?!" hans: kafka...*sigh* do you need to take a walk? Kafka: "..." T~T "It's too early..." hans: it'll do you some good. Kafka: *sniff* "F-Fine..." *muttering* hans:...*sigh* Jakob: ^w^ "Better wash off first..." -elsewhere- Justin: *praying* -knock- Justin: "..." *opens his eyes, stands, checks the door* "Yes?" marie: hello~ ^^ christa: hi hi. Justin: "Marie! Christa! Hello...Come in, come in...How are you?" marie: doing good, thought we'd check on in. oriko: *small wave* marie: ^u^ christa: *tiny wave* Justin: *smiles* "Very well. But how are you after...after that?" marie: getting better. Justin: *nods* "Shall I get us some tea and something for Christa?" marie: sure. -elsewhere- Rin: *shiny eyes* "So cool!" konekomaru: talk about a view, huh? Yukio: "It is impressive..." Bon: "..." Rin: "How far does it go down?" konekomaru: please do not go jumping off the waterfall. Rin: "Oh, come on! It'll be a great bonding experience! You all want to try it, right?" Yukio: "No." Bon: "Hell no." -elsewhere- Akitaru: "It'll be at the Fifth. Enjoy the luxury." shinra: *gulp* Relan: "Has Hibana hosted one of these before?" shinra: cant recall... tamaki: it's been a while. Arthur: "The Princess will lead us to glorious victory." maki: here we are. takeru:... oh, the 8th's here now. tao: OuO vivian: about time. ryuuko: that just leaves the 3rd and 1st. ???: "--and then I found a $20 bill!" tamaki: ?? *look* ???: *looks at them* "Oh, hey--new people!" ???: oh, greeeat.... ryuuko: you must be the new recruits with the 3rd and 1st, correct? ???: "Yep!" *hugs Ryuuko* ryuuko: um... mikami: ^^; ???: "I'm Yotsuba--it is so super to meet you!" ^w^ ryuuko: likewise. now could you let go of me? Yotsuba: "??? Sure." *lets go* tamaki: so you're in the 1st, huh? Yotsuba: "Yep! I'm from the 1st--and I'm so lucky to have gotten in!" tamaki: oh im so sure of that. what can you even do? maki: tamaki! my apologies, she used to be in the 1st. tamaki: -_-; Relan: *looks at the one from the 3rd* ???:... the hell're _you_ looking at? Relan: "!!!!" *steps back* "N-Nothing..." >_>; shinra: *glares at the 3rd member* hey, what's your problem? ???: everything. Yotsuba: "Oh, you know, a little bit of this, a little of that. I guess since I'm at the 1st now and you left, I'm kind of the new you there." ^w^ Relan: "..." Q_Q tamaki: *rolls eyes* shinra: *protective hug of relan* Relan: *pat pat* gabriella: ok, line up everyone. Yotsuba: "I've heard so much about you! Is it true you trained in nun stuff? And now you're at the 8th? Is that guy there yelling at the horse statue your boyfriend?" Arthur: *screaming* "YOU ARE AN EMBARRASSMENT TO STEEDS EVERYWHERE!" tamaki: .....when did the 5th get a horse statue? Relan: "Hibana probably saw 'Caligula' too many times--" Hibana: *suddenly behind Relan* "What was that~?" ^^# tamaki: OxO shinra: .x.;;;; Relan: "..." Q_______Q tao: hi princess iron-fan! ^^ Hibana: "Hello, new person~" *pats Relan's shoulder--a bit too hard* ???: *siiigh* can we get this over with? Hibana: "...Okay, Relan and Captain Sunshine over there get to do 100 push-ups while Gabriella states your training objectives." Relan: D8> ???: *siiigh* fantastic. Kishiri: "LOL." vivian: hehehehe~ Hibana: "And 200 for Kishiri." Kishiri: Q_Q shinra: *smirk* Hibana: *studies the newbies while Gabriella begins--* gabriella: alright, we'll start by two against two combat practice. Yotsuba: ^w^ Arthur: *nods* tamaki: .... (something about this girl....really ticks me the eff off....) Hibana: "Let's see...Tamaki against the new girl--" tamaki: D8< Yotsuba: "Yotsuba, ma'am! Huge fan! I've been following your designs since the Milan show." Hibana: "..." *looks at Gabiella* "Mark her as a favorite." tamaki: D 8 < Yotsuba: *stands in the battle ring...just standing, not even in a fighting pose* ^w^ tamaki: heh, ok madame sparkles, lets do this. *assumes stance* Yotsuba: "Wonderful! I'm thrilled to get to learn from this engagement with you!" tamaki: *charges* Yotsuba: *still standing there* ^w^ tamaki: *jumps up* Yotsuba: *not moving* ^w^ tamaki: (hmm?) *catwheel cartwheel* Yotsuba: *still not moving--until the last second, when she quick steps out of the path* tamaki: O_O *CRASH* Yotsuba: "Ouchie! I almost felt that..." tamaki: >~< Hibana: "Point Yotsuba! Tamaki, get back in there." tamaki: *glares back at yotsuba* Yotsuba: ^w^ "I thought that looked pretty good. But maybe next time gauge the distance better--" tamaki: you totally moved out of the way! DX< Yotsuba: "I know--it was impressive, right? I'm so lucky I had great teachers at the 1st to help me improve my innate talents, like Commander Burns--" tamaki: -_-# Yotsuba: "And everyone is just so invested in helping me! Like, watch this--" *she seems to disappear immediately* tamaki: ??? *Something lands lightly on Tamaki's head* tamaki: ?! *It's a flower crown* Yotsuba: ^w^ Hibana: *shiny eyes* tamaki:..... (she's really getting on my nerves...) shinra:..well tamaki seems to be making friends. Arthur: "...What even is her ability? Super-speed? Pre-cognition? Witchcraft? Witch. Must be a witch." Relan: *panting, struggling with pushups* Kishiri: *muttering* ???: how annoying. Yotsuba: "But I guess I should wrap this up, so--" *grabs Tamaki by her index finger* tamaki: ?? Yotsuba: *flips Tamaki over, gracefully, and out of the ring--* tamaki: X-X she cant be human...there's no way she's even human.... Yotsuba: *spins, does a peace sign pose* "I'm just lucky!" Hibana: OwO "Can we adopt her?" tamaki: oh i'll show YOU LUCKY- *trip* oh no.... *faceplant with her ass in the air* Yotsuba: OwO; "Oooo~" Arthur: ._. shinra: talk about making an ass of yourself. *sweatdrop* tamaki: TT_TT# (i will murder all of you in your sleep) -elsewhere- Q: T_T higuchi: you ok? Q: "I'm lonely..." higuchi: you have us, dont you? Q: "Yeah...But I miss Aya." higuchi:....*pap pap* Q: *sniffs, rubs his eyes* "We're stuck here..." higuchi: im sure it'll blow over soon. *smiles* Q: Q___Q "Really?" higuchi: yeah. Q: "O-Okay..." -elsewhere- Kafka: *walking, grumbling* -looks like it's about to rain soon- Kafka: "Shoot...I didn't bring my umbrella..." *looks around* -there is an awning nearby at a shop- Kafka: "..." *stands underneath* -there is a fancy pair of shoes in the window- Kafka: "???" -they seem pretty fancy- Kafka: "..." -in his thoughts- {Kafka: "Here you are."} {etta: aww, how sweet! *cheek smooch*} {Kafka: ^\\\\^ "Only the best...for you."} {etta: hehe~<3 } {Kafka: "I want to give you the world...because you deserve that happiness."} {etta: aw, franzy...} {Kafka: "..." *leans in--*} Kafka: -3- girl: is that guy kissing a window? girl 2: weirdo. Kafka: O\\\\O "..." T\\\\T -later- Kafka: *reaches the door--soaking wet* -___- george: ... ._.; Kafka: *grumbling* "First those brats prank me, then I get kicked out to a walk, can't even buy shoes--then I don't have my umbrella--" george: rough day? Kafka: *snipes* "Who asked you?" george: OxO; Kafka: "..." *marches to his room, leaving wet shoe-prints down the hall* george:....whats eating him? Walter: *pops up* "That's just the kind of guy Kafka is." george: hm... Kafka: *locks himself in his room* "..." Walter: "Come to think of it, I haven't heard Kafka call any family..." george: ..... Walter: "...Hey, George? You like pudding?" george: yeah, why? Walter: "Let's make pudding treats!" george: oh, ok. Walter: ^w^ "Kafka will love them..." -elsewhere- lydia: ......*staring at her drink* *Everything is quiet in the building* lydia:.....*sigh* ......*walks back to her room* Gogol: *humming* lydia: ....<kolya.> Gogol: <Yo yo yo!> lydia: *rubs her eyes* pleasant evening, i take? Gogol: <As good as it can be. You?> lydia: <could have been better. just thinking a lot.> Gogol: <??? About...?> lydia: <what im going to do after finding the book...> Gogol: <Ah...Maybe go home?> lydia: .....<you do know why i joined the rats, right?> Gogol: <Do I? Likely. But tell me anyway.> lydia: <there's someone important to me i want to save.> Gogol: <All this for a loved one?> lydia: *nod* <she means the world to me.> Gogol: <...Hmm. And Dossy knows this?> lydia:....*she nods* i was by her side in the hospital when he contacted me... Gogol: "...He does that sort of thing." lydia: he offered to save her if i joined him. though i have been considering a second wish for the book..... Gogol: "Oh?" lydia: the first would be to save her from her coma......the second....i might use to erase her memories of me. Gogol: "...Why..." lydia: *removing her mask* it's my fault that she's in this coma to begin with. because she got close, she got hurt. I’ve done so many terrible things for her sake, my hands are too stained with blood. If she knew what I had done, she’d undoubtedly hate me. I don’t want to be a burden to her. Maybe it would be for the best if she forgot about me, even if it hurts so much. I want her to live a life without suffering. Gogol: "..." *sighs* lydia: ... Gogol: "Before doing something so drastic, perhaps actually say goodbye to her first." lydia: *sad chuckle* that's just the thing. i'm scared to face her again. that sounds pretty pathetic, right? perhaps im just doing this to punish myself. im not sure. but as long as i can know she's alright, then i'd be glad, even if it meant erasing my own worthless existence... Gogol: "...Is that what you want?" lydia: ....im only considering her wellbeing...i dont want for her to get hurt again because of my actions. Gogol: "Hmm...Too bad you can't wish to just change your past." lydia: ...i have no desire to change what has happened to me. Gogol: "...All for her, then?" lydia: *she nods* Gogol: "...Admirable." lydia: ...*wipes her eyes* Gogol: "...Well, sleep will help figure this out." lydia:....right.... -elsewhere- Takehisa: "Let's hope they learn something during this exercise." miwa: *nods* Takehisa: "That gives time to handle some other tasks around here." *opens a closet* "I have repairs to finish." miwa: need any help from us? Takehisa: "Since Vulcan is busy, yes, I could. I'm going to check the furnace. Could you check which lighting fixtures are broken?" miwa: sure thing. serina: need us to do anything? sayu: ^u^ Takehisa: "Hmm...We have paperwork that hasn't been signed. Could you check the mail in that pile, and anything that needs the commander's signature, set it aside?" serina: *nods* nayumi: i'll help iris with cleaning out the chapel area. Takehisa: *nods* "Thank you." -elsewhere- Rin: "Ow..." konekomaru: *patching him up* Bon: "It's like training a dog..." konekomaru: ^^; Rin: "I thought it was a good idea at the time...How was I supposed to know the speed?!" Yukio: -_-# "You could have died, if not for your abilities--and hard head..." *takes off his glasses...looks in the water* "..." konekomaru: .....?? Yukio: "..." *sighs, splashes water on his face* Rin: "??? Yo, bro..." Yukio: "Hmm?" Rin: "..." *shove* Yukio: O_o "?!" *SPLASH* konekomaru: rin, come on! *chuckle* Bon: ._. "..." *snort* Yukio: *soaking wet* -_____- "At least my glasses weren't tossed in...However--" Rin: "???" Yukio: *grabs Rin's arm--and flips him into the water* Rin: O______O "WAIT! I HATE GETTING--" *SPLASH* konekomaru: ^^; stocking: *whistling* Izumo: "???" seiya: ?? is something wrong, izumo? Izumo: "Just...thinking. It would be nice to have...to have spent this time with my..." seiya:....*pat pat* it'd be best not to dwell on the past. she's safe, isnt she? Izumo: "...I hope..." seiya:... *pap pap* Izumo: "Th-Thanks..." stocking: hey, we're here for you, ok? shiemi: *nod* Izumo: "..." *sniff* "I-I know that!" T\\\T *looks away* shiemi:...*hug* Izumo: T~T *hug* -elsewhere- Relan: *groans* T~T Arthur: *bandaging his arm* mikami: everyone alright? tamaki: *in full cast, grumbling* Kishiri: *holding tissue to his nose* "Is it broken?" Q_Q Yotsuba: ^w^ "So much fun! I can't wait for tomorrow for more training!" vivian: *in a medic's uniform, patching him up* it's just fine, torry~<3 tamaki: *glaring daggers at yotsuba* Kishiri: =\\\\= "Thank you..." vivian: hehehe~<3 Yotsuba: *holds up cups of hot cocoa* "I made cocoa! With my own special recipe..." tao: yay! tamaki: (i swear, she's doing this on purpose! DID BURNS HIRE HER JUST TO SPITE ME?!) Yotsuba: "Here you go, Tamaki~" ^w^ tamaki: *muffled annoyance* Yotsuba: "I could give you a straw..." tamaki: *GLAAAARE* shinra: it's like she's the anti-tamaki... tamaki: <SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS, KUSAKABE!> Yotsuba: OwO;;; "Um...Did I do something to offend her, Shinra?" shinra: dont worry, she's like this all the time (more so than usual today...) Yotsuba: "D'aw...I'm sure tomorrow will be even better! I look forward to making friendships with all of you! We can even share treats, play video games on my new Switch, I can have my private driver pick us up--" vivian: you have a chauffeur too?? OvO Yotsuba: "I won one in a lottery." ^w^ mikami: they do that in lotteries now? tamaki: <OH OF COURSE SHE DID!> Yotsuba: "Lucky, I guess~" Relan: "...Shinra. What is even happening?" shinra: some weird gag most likely. tao: ~? shinra: best not to think about it too much. ???: ugh, how annoying. can you guys just shut up, i want to sleep already. and maybe die. that'd be great. Arthur: "??? ...Do you know Mr. Aizawa?" ???: who? Arthur: "...Nevermind." *polishes his hilt* ryuuko: for now, lets all get some rest, we're gonna need it..... -elsewhere- Kid: *baking a cake* "..." -elsewhere- twain: hey steinbeck? owo Steinbeck: "What?" twain: did you ever have any childhood crushes? owo Steinbeck: "...I guess." twain: liiiiiike? Steinbeck: "I-I don't know...There were cute people in my neighborhood when I was younger..." twain: oooooh. 7u7 Steinbeck: "..." {Steinbeck: "..." *small noise* } {girl: ?? what's with him?} {rosasharn: john? are you alright?} {ma steinbeck: ??} {Steinbeck: "N-Nothing!" >\\\\< } twain: bet you want to know who my childhood crush was, right? 7u7 Steinbeck: *serious face, crying* "I could not care less." twain: well, when i was like, 8 or something, i had the huuuugest crush on the town judge's daughter, becky thatcher. she was like, the prettiest girl i'd seen like, ever. and i was certain we were gonna get married and stuff like that. not sure where she is now. probably in university for all i know. Steinbeck: "...I'm not one to advocate creepy online stalking, but why not search online for her? She may be an ace student, or a famous journalist, or a mass murderer--" twain: eh, kinda keeping my options open, y'know? Steinbeck: "...Yeah. Wide open." twain: 'sides, those 'find old classmates online' ads are almost always scams. Steinbeck: "...I guess." *looks out the window* twain:...thinkin' bout someone? Steinbeck: "Just...thinking. That's all. ...All." twain: sure, steinbeck. -morning- Rin: *huddled under blankets* -3- "And they still aren't dried, even overnight..." konekomaru: *asleep* Bon: *packing* konekomaru: *yawn* are we heading home soon? Bon: "At least to the next stop along the way home..." Yukio: *buttoning his shirt* konekomaru: *nod* -elsewhere- Chuuya: *grumbling, shaking in bed* -chuuya....- Chuuya: "N-No..." -it hurts so much. i cant breathe...- Chuuya: "H-Hang on...I'll help..." -she's bleeding all over and screaming- Chuuya: *reaches out his hand* "NO!!" *sits up in bed with a lurch--covered in sweat* "..." *pants* -silence- -the space next to him is empty as it always is- Chuuya: "..." *covers his face* “…” *whimpers, whines* -the door creaks open a slight bit- sonia: papa? mito: *mew* Chuuya: "..." *lowers his hands, smiles* "Yes, Sonia?" sonia: are you ok? Chuuya: "...Just a bad dream." sonia:....do you want a hug? Chuuya: "...That'd be kind." sonia: *hug* mito: *nuzzle* Chuuya: *hug, pat pat* sonia: i love you a lot, papa. Chuuya: "I know...I love you, too." sonia: ....aunt higuchi's making breakfast... Chuuya: *smiles* "Then that should be delicious, right?" sonia: *nod* Chuuya: "Give me a minute, okay?" sonia: ok... Chuuya: *watches her exit...hugs a pillow* "..." -...- Chuuya: "...I'm doing my best..." -...- Chuuya: "..." *sighs...* *sets the pillow back* -elsewhere- Hibana: "Good morning~!" tamaki: -_____- shinra: you look like a bit of a mess. tao: is it cause of miss sparkles? shinra: *chuckle* Relan: *small smile* *humming is heard from the kitchen* tamaki: laugh it up, you guys.... mikami: she's already awake.... ryuuko:...im beginning to lose certainty of her humanity. *sweatdrop* Hibana: "And she's making all of us breakfast! And it looks divine..." gabriella: ^^; Yotsuba: *humming, making fresh whipped cream* "The muffins are all ready!" *the muffins are...sparkling* Relan: "..." *LOUD STOMACH GROWL* shinra: good god they multiplied overnight! tamaki: *ELBOWS HIM* shinra: ow. Yotsuba: "They have different fruit fillings, too!" *pours hot chocolate, adds whipped cream* "Tamaki, I even made some of those little fish-shaped pastries that Mr. Fulham told me you like~" tamaki: ^^# why. thank. you. Yotsuba: ^w^ *sits next to Hibana* Hibana: ^w^ "Okay, troops, eat well, because today--" *evil face* "YOU MAY DIE." Relan: *half-way into a muffin* "..." Q____Q ???: good. hanako: D8> mama, she's in my seat! Hibana: "Yes, Yotsuba..." *DEATH GLARE* "MOVE." Yotsuba: OwO;;;;; "..." *quickly gets up, sits behind Tamaki* tamaki:....*smirk* Kishiri: "...Boss Lady, when you say 'die'--" takeru: *shaking...causing a mini earthquake in the room* Hibana: "Death. Demise. Expire. Six feet under. Dead as a door nail. Deader than disco-- ...Holy crap, is he causing that?" Relan: "C-Calm down, T-Takeru..." shinra: takeru. inhale. takeru: *INHAAALEEEE....*breathes out* i-im ok.... Relan: ^^;;; *pat pat* -elsewhere- Magaki: *sipping tea* otogiri: how is it? Magaki: "..." *small smile* "Good." himawari: *smiles* thank you. Magaki: "Was it from the garden?" himawari: *she nods* i've been learning how to make new blends. Magaki: "That's impressive." himawari: *smiles* Magaki: "Do you use these in other meals?" -elsewhere- Izumo: "..." *looks outside* shiemi: *packing* seiya: this was an enjoyable trip. *smiles* Izumo: "...I suppose so..." Shura: *passed out* *snore* stocking:....*nudge nudge* shura? Shura: *grumble* "Booz..." stocking: -___-; *sigh* -elsewhere- Fukuzawa: "...Is this really necessary?" yosano: it's a formal occasion. kirako: plus a suit is quite becoming on you. ^^ Fukuzawa: "Hmph. Very well." naomi: ^^ -outside, atsushi and aya are training with kunikida- Kunikida: "You know what to do? Then come at me." atsushi: *charges* Kunikida: "..." *shifts his weight* aya: *jumps in from behind* Kunikida: *turns* atsushi: *TACKLE* Kunikida: *knocked down, lies back* "..." atsush: yes! aya: woot! -they do a little victory dance- *Then something knocks them both in the head* aya + atsushi: X-X Kunikida: *holding a handful of acorns* "What did I say about keeping an eye on downed opponents?" aya: Q3Q atsushi: TT,TT; Kunikida: *sighs* "At least you got me down." atsushi: *smile* Kunikida: "Now, what did you get wrong?" aya: keep an eye on a downed opponent? Kunikida: *nods* "What else? For example, Aya, notice your watch is missing--" aya: but i dont even have a watch- Kunikida: "..." *looks at the watch in his hand* "...Then whose--" atsushi: *points* Kafka: *collapsed on the ground nearby* X____X *he's missing a watch...and a shoe* Kunikida: "... ... ..." *stares at Atsushi* "Get a shovel." atsushi: D8> -elsewhere- Jakob: "??? Where's everyone?" george: they said they were out doing errands. Jakob: -3- "Boring...Need a game to play." george:.....alright, how about 'two truths and a lie'? Jakob: "Ooooooh! Sure!" wilhelm: im first! i own a slingshot, im the older brother, and im a student. george: im guessing the older brother thing is the lie? Jakob: >w< "He got you!" wilhelm: =3= that was too easy. george: alright. i lived in england, i've been inside a submarine, and im a girl. Jakob: "Hmm..." *looks at Wilhelm* "The submarine thing. No one uses submarines nowadays." wilhelm: you sure? george:...you guessed it. wilhelm:....so wait, you're a girl?....huh. george: ^^; Jakob: "Why the secret?" george: *shrug* i guess i just decided to take on a new identity after leaving home. even if i dont consider myself being a guy, i do enjoy the facade. wilhelm: understandable. jakob's disguised himself as a girl lots of times. Jakob: >\\\\\< george: huh.....well, there's pudding from last night in the kitchen. you two hungry? wilhelm: yes please! Leroux: ^w^ etta: *shivers* c-cold down here TT3TT hans: its not that far now... Leroux: "You saw some of them before?" hans: i think. i do recall a rather tall woman, a shorter woman, and a strange man with a bowlcut... *BOOM* hans: !!! etta: EEK! >A< hans: *peeks past the wall* *Someone walks through the blast* ???: "MY BOWL CUT IS NOT STRANGE!" hans: ??? etta: OxO *Motojiro emerges* Leroux: "...Are those...lemons?" etta: what even is this place? hans: hello? we're the group the agency told you about? Motojiro: "..." *looks back* "How can we confirm they're who they claim to be?" hans: *hands him a document* hirotsu:...hmm....seems to check out. etta: w-we even made ID cards. OvO;;; *shows hers* Leroux: "Hmm...Some of Walter's glitter got on mine..." katya: whatchu guys even want from us? hans: we're here to talk to you about our alliance- hirotsu: so we've heard. Leroux: ^w^ "Have you decided?" hirotsu: what do you have to offer us? hans: we have a large accommodation to your numbers. and you will be kept protected within our residence. and food and showers and such will be provided. hirotsu: hmmm...and what is it you want from us? Leroux: "Well, you do have an awful lot of people..." hirotsu:.... hans: think of it this way, do you really want to stay hidden in a smelly old tunnel? Leroux: "And can be some assistance in the combat side..." hirotsu:......very well. we just have one request. a certain member has to be kept under strict lock and key at all times due to...rather complicated circumstances. hans: that can be arranged. Leroux: ^w^ "Yay! Neighbors!" hirotsu: *shakes hans' hand* it will be a pleasure working with you, ma'am. everyone. pack up and roll out. Leroux: OwO "...Old people say 'roll out'?" hirotsu:... 7///7; naoya said i had to 'get with it'. Leroux: ^w^ "Understood, sir!" -elsewhere- Lily: *sleeps* "Zzz..." misono: *taking notes* Kuro: *poke* "Give me your notes..." misono: -,-; dont you have your own? Kuro: "Just comparing to make sure I got all of it..." *his notes only have his name on it* misono: ... -elsewhere- hyakuya: *stares at her paper* ..... {hyakuya: *trembling*} {yuuichiro: AKANE RUN!} {hyakuya: ah-} {yuuichiro: JUST RUN DAMMIT!} {hyakuya: *tears in her eyes, taking off into a sprint down into the tunnels*} hyakuya: ......*sniff* *rubs her eyes* ???: "Here." *holds a tissue* hyakuya: i-im fine! TnT Yoichi: "Just...trying to help." ^^; hyakuya:.................................YOICHI!!! *HUGS*.... 7///7; g-glad you're here. i'll be sure to let shinoa and mitsuba kno- mitsuba: already on it. shinoa: the gang's all back together again, fufu ^^ Yoichi: "Y-Yeah." ^^;;;; "Little tight..." hyakuya: *lets go* wait, all? mitsuba: kimizuki's here too. hyakuya: ... =-=# faaaantastic. just what i freaking needed. Yoichi: "Just...hang in there..." hyakuya: 7,7 -elsewhere- Kafka: *walking down the street, missing a shoe* T~T *spots the HQ* "...This is going to be embarrassing..." -elsewhere- Hibana: *blows a whistle* "Faster! Lift those legs!" tamaki: *jogging* tao: *sprint jumping* takeru: *pant pant* >~< Yotsuba: *practically skipping* ^w^ Relan: *catching up from behind* Arthur: *galloping like a Monty Python horse* ???: *still at the start line* Yotsuba: "..." *doesn't turn around, looks forward--and side-steps* ???: *KO'D* fuck... Yotsuba: "Ouchie." ^w^ Relan: Q_Q "Scary..." Kishiri: *panting* "Ugh..." Hibana: "Move it, move it! You'll get your reward later--so move!" -elsewhere- Yohei: "Kepuri, hold Toru for a bit--" Kepuri: "?! Wait, what--" Yohei: *ties his shoelaces* Kepuri: -_-# toru: *staaare* Kepuri: "...What are you staring at?" toru: babwa! ^u^ Kepuri: "...'Babwa'? What is 'babwa'?" toru: *baby babble* chie: i can take him from here. ^^; Kepuri: -\\\\- "Thank goodness..." *hands Toru to Chie* chie: hey sweetie~ were you good for aunt kepuri? toru: babwa! chie: *giggles and pokes his nose* ^^ toru: *laughs* Kepuri: "..." >\\\\> Yohei: "He's a happy boy..." nea:....kepuriiiin, are you considering children? Kepuri: "I am nowhere ready to deal with babies, messes, the cost--the pain of child birth...How even parent?" nea:.... 737; Kepuri: "What about you?" nea: *whistling* Shinoda: .////. -elsewhere- Giriko: "Yo, Priest! Yo...Um..." oriko: ~? justin: good afternoon, giriko. ^^ anna: chitty pweest! Justin: O_O Giriko: ^^; oriko: ?? anna: ^o^ chitty pweest! chitty pweest! Giriko: "Kids say the darndest things..." Justin: ^-^;;;;;;;;;; oriko: ~?? Justin: ^^; "Giriko...Why is she talking like that?" Giriko: "Blame Kirika." kirika: *laughing too hard* Justin: *sweatdrop* -elsewhere- Karim: "Raise it a bit higher..." pearl: *doing so* Karim: "Okay...Now, what do you feel right now?" pearl: alright for the most part. Karim: "Do you notice any stress when you raise it?" pearl: a bit of tension on my hand, but that's about it. Karim: "Hmmm...How about emotionally?" pearl: fine, i think. Karim: "...What powers up your flame?" pearl: what do you mean? Karim: "Well, some people increase their flame when they feel happy, or sad, or angry..." pearl: i never really thought about it. Karim: "Well...Maybe think about something that makes you happy and see what happens?" pearl: ...... *FEWM* .-.; Karim: "...Okay, so happy thoughts help. Interesting...Guess keep thinking about them for a bit." pearl: .////. r-right... -elsewhere- Anya: *flipping through an old yearbook* rowena: ?? Anya: "...Rowena, what do you know about previous students?" rowena: i havent really looked into it. Anya: "...Tsugumi is still researching, based on research from a...departed student. But I think it's hitting a wall, so I'm seeing whether there were other halberds or their meisters. ' rowena: hmm. -elsewhere- elizaveta: ... *There's the sound of metal hitting metal, like someone stacking...plates? Cans?* elizaveta: *peeeek* Gogol: *quickly shoves something into his coat* *hums* elizaveta: OvO~? Gogol: <Ah, there you are.> *smiles* <What are you up to?> elizaveta: <iii dunnoooo. stuff?> Gogol: <Hey, me too!> *closes his cloak* <I have to finish something, so can you give me five minutes?> elizaveta: ok. *waves leila's hand and walks out* ~^^ Gogol: *waves...when she is out of view, he frowns...* "..." ("Just keep to the plan...") -elsewhere- Akutagawa: "..." Gin: "Is this a good idea?" naoya: well, it's really our best option right now, all things considered. Gin: "I understand. Yet we know little about these people--and it feels like moving from...this 'prison' to another one." naoya: hey, on the bright side, they have food and showers. Gin: "...Good. Some people here have smelled awful." Tachihara: "FUCK YOU!" Akutagawa: *picks up Tachihara by the ankle* katya: so what do we know about this goat guy? Tachihara: Q_Q "...He's an animal-human hybrid?" Gin: *smack* "Stop listening to stupid people." katya: WANNA FIGHT?! leo: i believe she meant goethe. katya: what lev said. Motojiro: "Oh! The one with those people in Germany! He killed a child abuser." higuchi:....wow. katya: why does he want to form this alliance anyway? Motojiro: "He is an ability user..." katya: so? higuchi: he wants to form this alliance to stop dostoyevsky. katya: im in. pushkin: that was a fast answer. Motojiro: OwO; "That easy?" katya: im down for anything if it means taking that backstabbing sack of feces down several hundred pegs. Akutagawa: "...Sounds good." higuchi:...you still arent over that, are you? katya: NOPE. Motojiro: ^w^ "I'll start packing!" Tachihara: *blood all flowing to his head* =~= -elsewhere- Kafka: "...How? How are we even going to fit that many people in here?" goethe: we have a lot of rooms. like, loads. Kafka: "Since when?! I have looked at the floor plans--" Walter: *flips a page--spreading out a much larger blueprint of the building* Kafka: "... ... ...SHUT UP!" Walter: "I said nothing!" -elsewhere- Hibana: ^w^ "There! Now wasn't that a successful training day?" Yotsuba: *sparkling and smiling* "Oh, yes, Commander! Thank you for today's lessons!" Relan: *collapsed, face-down* X___X tamaki: Q_Q Arthur: *clothes torn* "...I think one of the Angels bit me." shinra: *faceplant'd* Kishiri: *mindlessly chewing on gum...shivering* "N-Never again..." Hibana: *claps her hands* "Well, time for your reward~" vivian: OvO Hibana: "We ladies will enjoy some time in the baths and spa this evening." Kishiri: *at attention* "HOT." tamaki: *about to punch him* Hibana: *holds up buckets and toothbrushes* "While you boys continue your training by scrubbing the toilets~" tamaki: oh. Kishiri: D8> Relan: *sad angry quiet scream* shinra: that seems a bit rude, ma'am, with all due respect Hibana: "I'm kidding! Mostly. You can go use the boys' baths down the hall." Yotsuba: *claps* "Yay! Tamaki, we can bond and discuss training, the First, how to improve your jumps--" tamaki: (i'd rather be scrubbing toilets.) -elsewhere- Haumea: "...So, he's a masochist, right?" kagu-tsuchi: ?? whom do you refer to? Haumea: "Charon. He just keeps having everyone punching him. One big beefy man after another big beefy man punching him..." kagu-tsuchi: ..... guruna: *yaaaawn* pass thanks. Haumea: "In any case, the noise is getting in the way of me listening to radio waves, so..." *presses a hand against the wall--plasma shoots through into Charon's training room and--* Man 1: "AAAAH!" *clutching his head, falls* Men 2, 3, 4, etc: *also all fall* Haumea: "..." =w= "Ah, silence." guruna: ._. kagu-tsuchi: .... -elsewhere- Lucy: "Jeez, he messed you up good." atsushi: T~T; Lucy: "..." *small smirk* "At least you're alive, aren't you? Regeneration is a heck of an ability." atsushi: yeah......*looks at lucy* ..... .///. Lucy: "??? What's wrong?" atsushi: you're just really cute. >///< Lucy: O\\\\\O "WHERE ON PRINCE EDWARD'S ISLAND DID THAT COME FROM?!" atsushi: .////. its true though. Lucy: >\\\\< "Well, yes, but...but...You're cute, too!" *pouts* atsushi:... ^////^ Lucy: "..." *hug, cuddle* atsushi: *huuug*....... .////. Lucy: "..." .\\\\\. "...You..." atsushi: >///< *leans in* Lucy: "..." *closes her eyes...brushes her lips against his* -kiss- atsushi: *shivers, tail twitching* =/////////////= Lucy: "Mmm..." *her arms wrap around his lower back* -elsewhere- Benimaru: "...That is too adorable." kirei: ^^ hinata: we're gonna be flower girls! hikage: flower girls! Benimaru: "And I'm sure you will do great." *head pats* hinata + hikage: ^^ -elsewhere- Izumo: *nodding off* "Mmm..." seiya: well, here's your place stocking. stocking: thanks. *takes her luggage* i had fun. ^^ *enters* kid im ho- Kid: *tackle-hug* >w< "Stocking!" stocking: ^^ *head pats* im home, sweetie. Kid: *purrs* =w= "Was it a good trip?" stocking: it was nice. *kiss* Kid: *smooch* "Good...How were the others?" *cuddles* -elsewhere- Hyde: *holding up his hands* "...Dude. This is a mistake. I can't open the freaking cash register without the manager being here--" licht: -_-; Robber: "Shut up! Crack open the register if you have to!" Hyde: -____-# *glances at Licht* "Thieves aren't getting any smarter, are they?" licht:...*proceeds to wreck the thief's shit* Hyde: *smiles, leans back, gets back to sipping his soda* "Just don't knock into the can display. Took me forever to get it to look like Mega Man." licht: i have become the savior of this establishment *poses* because i am an archangel sent from the heavens above. Hyde: "..." *taps button on his phone for applause to start playing* -elsewhere- Poe: *sets flowers around the room* =w= karl: *resting on his shoulder* Poe: *inhales* "It's like a garden in our home~" lana: *smiles* ghost: it sure brightens the place up a bit. so nostalgic~ Poe: "Yes, it does." *smiles at the ghost* "You had flowers here before?" ghost: in life, yes. *sad smile* Poe: "..." *nods* "Is there anything to do to help make our home more suitable to you?" -elsewhere- Relan: *practically passed out in the bath* =\\\\\\= "I could stay here forever..." shinra: *snuggle* =////= takeru: .-. Relan: =w= Arthur: *scrubbing his hair* Kishiri: "...Okay. I got to ask. Are you two happy?" shinra: *smiles* yeah. Relan: *nods* Kishiri: "..." *sighs* "What the heck? I didn't see myself in a relationship. Didn't see any of us in relationships...How did we luck out?” takeru: .~. shinra: *shrug* life's unpredictable like that i guess. Arthur: *washes his hair, steps into the bath* "Yes. Before, I was pursued by that loud blonde crazy girl--and now she's dating Juggernaut. How is she, by the way?" takeru: she's doing well i-i think. Arthur: "...That's good. It keeps her away from me." -_-; tae-hyun: 7_7 Relan: ^^; "She seems nice. You have any anniversary coming up?" -elsewhere- Hibana: =w= "Nothing better than reclining with numerous beautiful ladies~" Yotsuba: *blows bubble bath* "Yay!" *it's sparkling* gabriella: this is nice. tao: *swimming* vivian: uvu tamaki: =_= Hibana: "Yes--minus the glitter bomb--" Yotsuba: "What glitter bomb?" Hibana: "..." *turns to Vivian* "How's your commander doing?" vivian: commander huang's been doing well. Hibana: "...She still a hard-nosed pain in the butt?" Yotsuba: *swims over and sits close to Tamaki* ^w^ tamaki: -____- -elsewhere- Rin: "We're home!" kyouko: welcome back! madoka: ^^ momo sakura: hey guys! Rin: "Hee hee..." *picks up Momo* momo sakura: ^u^ -elsewhere- Chuuya: "Okay, suitcase is opened. Put all in there." sonia: *packing things up* Chuuya: "May need the cat carrier--" mito: *mew* Chuuya: *strokes her* "It'll be okay..." mito: *purrrr* Chuuya: *opens his suitcase...* "..." *There's a ring box...* Chuuya: "..." *holds the box* sonia: *watches* Chuuya: "..." *holds it close* sonia: ..... Chuuya: "..." *small choke* sonia: *hug* Chuuya: "..." *pat pat* "Thank you." -elsewhere- elizaveta: *sitting in a chair, swinging her legs* Ivan: "???" <What are you doing?> elizaveta: <waiting.> Ivan: <For what?> elizaveta: <kolya said he was gonna show me something cool> Ivan: <Oh!> *looks down the hall* ???: *humming* elizaveta: *peeeek* Gogol: ^w^ elizaveta: oooh, cool! Gogol: <Glad you like it!> elizaveta: *HUG* ^w^ *It's a doll in a dress that looks similar to Gogol's usual outfit* Gogol: <You're gonna take good care of her, yes?> elizaveta: *nod nod* look leila, you have a friend! Leila: "..." Gogol: "What will you name your new friend?" elizaveta: hmmmm... i'll think of something. Gogol: ^w^ elizaveta: how about nina? Gogol: "Lovely!" lydia:... *faint smile* Gogol: "I have to finish some tasks--want to play in an hour?" elizaveta: ok! ^u^ Gogol: ^w^ -elsewhere- Hibana: "Good night, sweetie." *forehead smooch* hanako: zzzz Hibana: "..." *strokes her head* -morning- Kid: =w= "Zzz..." stocking: *snuggle* mmm kid... Kid: *hug* *yawns* "Morning..." stocking: *kiss* Kid: "Mmm~" *smooch* -elsewhere- zoey: ....*stares at the calendar. its her birthday*..... *It sounds like noise in the kitchen* zoey:.....*looks over* Gogol: *stirring batter* ^w^ <Cupcakes, cupcakes...> elizaveta: ^^ zoey: ....... Gogol: <Got any candles?> elizaveta: yessir! Gogol: *opens the oven, slides the batter-in-cupcake shells inside* *turns* "...Oh, hey." *waves at Zoey* "Ready?" zoey: *stare* elizaveta: ^u^ Gogol: "...Well, Zoey, you sitting or what? They'll be ready in a minute." zoey:... *takes a seat* *He serves the cupcakes with candles in them* zoey: *stare* lydia: happy birthday. yana: *blows a party blower* *Ivan is locked in a room with some reading materials* Ivan: "..." *turns the book around* "???" Gogol: ^w^ "Surprised?" zoey:....*sad nom* Gogol: "...How's the baby?" zoey:...*rubs her stomach* Gogol: "That well, huh?" zoey: .....*nod* Gogol: "Need anything? Medicine? Kidnapping?" zoey: i want master here..... Gogol: "...Yeah. I think a lot of us do." *looks at Yana* yana: ...... Gogol: "I'm sure he'll be out soon enough..." lydia:....*looks at the door ivan is behind* Ivan: <I can't make any sense of this...Reads like a child put it together.> lydia: <vanya?> Ivan: "??? Huh? Yes?" lydia: are you alright? Ivan: "Yes--just looking at these odd books Gogol lent me." *looks* "What's going on out there?" lydia: serving birthday treats, mostly. Ivan: "Oh! Whose birthday?" lydia:.....the medic's. Gogol: ^w^ *offers Elizaveta another cupcake* "Just be sure to blow out the candle first before--* *BOOM* Gogol: O_O; elizaveta: owo zoey: ..... Ivan: *LOUD SCREAMING* elizaveta: *covers ears* lydia: *holding him back* Ivan: *loud growls* zoey: ..... yana: oh boy. Gogol: "I left him books to keep him occupied! Why did you open the dragon's jail?!" lydia: ivan, please calm down. -_-; Ivan: <WHY DOES SHE STILL HAVE BIRTHDAYS?! DON'T YOU JUST GET OLD AND DIE?!> lydia: she's 25. *sweatdrop* Ivan: <SHE'S LIVED LONG ENOUGH!> Gogol: *reaches into the oven, takes out a cupcake--and shoves it into Ivan's mouth* Ivan: "?!! What flavor is--" *The cupcake sprays knockout gas in Ivan's face* Ivan: "..." *collapses* =w= elizaveta: knocked out! Gogol: "You may ask why I have a knockout grenade shaped like a cupcake. The real question is, why don't you?" lydia: ....*sweatdrop* -elsewhere- Izumo: *walking to class* konekomaru: morning izumo. Izumo: "Oh, good morning, Konekomaru. How are you?" konekomaru: doing well. Izumo: "You're here without your other half?" konekomaru: bon's in class already. Izumo: "...Well, that's punctual." konekomaru: well, we better get going in now. Izumo: "...I-I guess..." Bon: "??? The heck's with you?" Izumo: "Shut up!" Bon: "Don't get all pissy at me!" Izumo: "Don't be an asshole!" Rin: "..." *whispers to Konekomaru* "Is this a mating ritual or something?")) konekomaru: *shrug* -elsewhere- Gopher: "Going to need a new shirt for the spring..." eibon: *nod* Gopher: "Maybe new shoes..." *looks to his sister* "How about you?" -elsewhere- sonia: *looking around* Q: OwO; "...Biiiiiiiiiiiig..." sonia: *following chuuya closely* george:....so those are the new kids, huh? Chuuya: "..." *staring at the walls* ("Odd art...") Jakob: "...That kid looks colorful." wilhelm: are they even real? Jakob: "Not sure...Why is that one kid wearing a hat?" Chuuya: "...?!" -_-# sonia: ??? george: im pretty sure he's a teenager. Chuuya: T_T# Jakob: "Get out...What about the little kid with the sour puss--" katya: *russian profanities* pushkin: *holding her back* ._.;;; Jakob: OwO;;;; <What even are those noises...> leo:....she's 27 years old. wilhelm: 0_0 Jakob: "...Is she cursed?" katya: YOU WANNA GO? leo: <katya, dont fight children.> katya: =n=# pushkin: do you want something to eat, kati? katya: *grunt* pushkin: ok. ^^ *drags her to get some lunch* katya: =.= Jakob: *hiding behind Wilhelm* O~O "What was Goethe thinking..." Q: *spots Jakob, Wilhelm, and George* "..." sonia: *staaaare* george:...hi. Q: *waves* "Hello." Jakob: "...The Mafia has kids?" sonia: *she nods* im sonia, and this is Q. Jakob: "...I'm Jakob. This is my brother Wilhelm. And this is George." george: hey. *wave* leo: well, the children are getting along well. hans: seems so. Motojiro: "What is their schooling?" hans: well, i am their instructor here. Motojiro: "Oh! I've been Q and Sonia's teacher! They're so great--we just finished a science fair, and their project was great!" {*the classroom is full of soap suds--and on fire*} {Motojiro: *crying in the middle of the fire* "I'm so proud..."} higuchi: *sweatdrop* Gin: "..." *stares at Etta* etta: ~? Gin: "...Nice dress." etta: why thank you~ higuchi: is it custom? Walter: *talking off Akutagawa's ear* "--and then we can play games and trade stories and marathon this super cool new anime that came out--" Akutagawa: -__________- Kafka: -__________- Leroux: "Etta has excellent fashion~" goethe:....*smiles* -elsewhere- Arthur: "...Feeling bad still?" tamaki: im just ready to head home... Arthur: "Well, it'll be over soon. And your reaction time is faster." tamaki: thanks... Arthur: *smiles* Hibana: "Okay, troops, line up! We're starting with a sprint. Winner gets a gift certificate to my famous spa. Loser gets this..." *puts a bazooka over her shoulder, aims* "Now run!" -elsewhere- Damon: *opens lunch bag* "...???" *pulls out a note* note: 'have fun at school today ~dad' Damon: "..." Q_Q -elsewhere- Yohei: "..." {Yohei: "Line up!"} {mono: *at attention, shiny eyes*} {Yohei: "I know you know the mission--so now we go through the logistics." *projects a floorplan* "The target can be anywhere in this building--but they can't get out. We have every entrance and exit blocked. We even have our counter-measures..." *nods to a soldier* "Bring them in."} Yohei: "..." *staring at a headline from years ago on his tablet: "Almost 100 dead in police raid"* "..." *opens his drawer--and removes cigarettes and a lighter* saki: *ahem* ^^# Yohei: "...Sorry. I'm just stressed." saki: *holds out hand for the pack* Yohei: *looks pissed, hands it to her* saki: *disposes of it* *pap pap* good yohei. Yohei: *grumbles...shakes* saki: *hands him chewing gum* Yohei: "..." *takes it* "Thanks." -elsewhere- Steinbeck: *pulls over* emily: here we are. Hemingway: "...Did we just end up in a haunted forest? Does that tree have a face?" emily: seems the rest of the way we have to take a carriage in. twain: rustic. nice. baum: QuQ;;;;; Steinbeck: "...Lock the doors on your way out." -and so- dorothy: .... twain: sooo, whats town like? Coachperson: "Oh, quite nice. A bit old-fashioned, if I do say so myself. Isn't that right, Geoffrey?" Geoffrey the Horse: *horse noise* twain: yeah i get ya, i lived in an old fashioned styled town myself. Coachperson: "Where's that? Yonkers?" twain: st petersburg, missouri. emily: i thought you were from louisiana? Coachperson: "Your voice does have a bit of both in it. Isn't that right, Geoffrey?" Geoffrey: *more horse noises* twain: to be fair, my bro and i were _born_ in Louisiana, but we moved in with our aunt polly after our parents died. Steinbeck: "Well traveled..." *There seems to be some...Spanish architecture?* emily:....hmm. Hemingway: "Huh--18th-century Spanish architecture?" baum: quite charming, right dorothy~? dorothy: its something. Steinbeck: "It stands out..." Coachperson: "The city planner took many suggestions from a notable leader of the community on architectural choices." emily: is that so? Coachperson: "Hm-mm! You out-of-towners should get a thrill from our town. Just don't...lose your heads." Geoffrey: *loud noise, kicks up their feet* Coachperson: "Wow! Easy, Geoffrey..." baum: EEP! >~< dorothy: =A=; Steinbeck: "...Twain, let go of me." twain: *lets go* ^-^; Hemingway: "Hey, that one carriage in front of us is moving slow. Can you get ahead of it--" Geoffrey: *kicks up again* emily: ah! Steinbeck: "!!!" Coachperson: "Easy, Geoffrey! Don't get upset." emily: *looks out the window* *looks like someone is napping under a tree* emily: .... Steinbeck: "Any recommended spots to stay?" Coachperson: "How about the King George? ...Or is it the Washington? I can't keep it straight." ^^; emily: i think our reservations are at the king george. Coachperson: "Right, King George Washington." Steinbeck: "..." *whispers* "I think they have a screw loose..." emily: *sweatdrop* Coachperson: "The hotel is up ahead...Oh!" *waves at passerbys* -a few wave back- Hemingway: "..." *wave* "Seem friendly." -elsewhere- Kid: "Care for anything?" stocking: some pudding would be nice. Kid: "With a little whipped cream?" *opens the fridge door* stocking: yes please~ Kid: *scoops out whipped cream, drops a dollop into her pudding cup* "Enjoy~" stocking: *nom* mmmmm~<3 Kid: "May I have a spoonful?" stocking: *offers one* open wide~ Kid: "Aaaaaah--" *nom* stocking: tasty~? Kid: "Very..." *leans in* stocking: *licks his lips* hehe~ Kid: O\\\\O "Mmmm~" -elsewhere- Walter: *carrying groceries* ^w^ "New people...So much fun!" Leroux: *following* "Yep!" hans: lets just keep this on the downlow, alright? Walter: "Right! ... ..." *checks his social media* -elsewhere- Jacqueline: *grumbles* kim: you ok? Jacqueline: "...Sorry. Just been feeling..." *shudders* "...kind of cooped up." kim: hmm...maybe we could request a mission? Jacqueline: "That'd be greeeeeeat..." *stretches* "Just something other than books for a few days." kim: awesome! Jacqueline: *smiles* "You can take off time from work?" kim: im sure i can arrange something. -elsewhere- Karim: "Now we try focusing without distraction." pearl: *she nods* Karim: *puts on music* pearl: *inhale* Karim: "Right...Just focus on the breathing, ignore the rest..." *turns up the bass* pearl: .... Karim: "..." *taps his foot...and blasts a note on his trumpet* pearl: *JUMPS UP* o-o s-sorry! Karim: "...Hmm. It's to be expected. But in the field, you're going to be distracted, so you have to learn how to focus despite the distractions." pearl: r-right. Karim: "Is the music too loud?" -elsewhere- Chuuya: "How's this room?" sonia: it's nice. *sits on the bed* Chuuya: "...I guess we can unpack. And set up a decent kitty litter bin now..." sonia: *nod* Chuuya: "What do you think of the kids?" sonia: they seem alright. that girl george seems the most mature. Chuuya: "Well, it's good that someone here is--Wait, 'girl'?" sonia: yeah. Chuuya: "...Huh." ("...After all those dresses I wore as a kid...") -knock- Chuuya: "...Yes?" naoya: lunch time! Chuuya: "Oh, good! What are we having?" -elsewhere- Damon: "Why don't you have any pets?" soul: never found the time. but maybe aunt blair counts? she's actually a cat you know. becky: *raises a brow* Damon: "...Is that a nickname for her?" soul: ..... *paralyzed* saaaay why dont we play some video games together? ^^;;;; Damon: -_____- "Fine..." becky: *sweatdrop* -elsewhere- Izuku: "It's a super rare retro game featuring superheroes of the time! But...it's hard to find and expensive..." eijiro: ooh, neat. jirou: i think there's a place near grissom street that sells old games and stuff. Izuku: "Oh! That would be great to check out!" -elsewhere- Master: "Welcome back." liz: *wave* tsugumi: ^^ Meme: "Howdy! How are the employees?" Patty: *grabbing straws* miranda: pretty good so far. Anya: *sits down* "How is business?" miranda: doing good -elsewhere- Walter: "--and we can have pillow fights and anime marathons and hot chocolate and--" ayako: HECK YEAH!! >8D Akutagawa: "..." *looks at Hans* "Why is he so chipper?" hans: he tends to look at the bright side of things. it's pretty admirable. Akutagawa: "...Hmm. I suppose. Have you been here long?' hans: only recently. Akutagawa: "And in this organization?" hans: well, most of us have been here a long time. i think i've been here the longest. Akutagawa: "Hmm. And you recruited those children?" hans: *nods* they were abandoned and had nowhere else to go... Akutagawa: "..." *shudders* hans:...heh, i guess thats something a lot of us have in common....or had in common... Akutagawa: "I suppose...Do any of you have friends outside of this organization?" hans: just a few acquaintances back at the school. Walter: "I got Tumblr buddies!" sonia: .....*looks at christine* Leroux: "..." *waves Christine's hand* "Hello~" sonia: is she a doll? Leroux: "... ... ..." QwQ sonia: the people underground turned mommy's corpse into a doll too. -awkward silence- Chuuya: ^^;;;; *pats Sonia's back* "Maybe not the best conversation starter--" Leroux: *inhale* "PROTECT THIS CHILD." sonia: … Chuuya: "I...have that handled." Leroux: *seizes Chuuya by his cheeks* sonia:...*hugs chuuya's leg* Chuuya: )O~O( Leroux: "PROTECT..." hans: leroux, i think you made your point. Chuuya: *muffled* "It's okay, Sonia--nothing to worry about..." Leroux: Q__Q hans: *pap pap* etta: its ok roro. ^^ Leroux: *whimpers* hans: *whispers* his girlfriend died some years ago...it's a sensitive topic for him, but he's making a little bit more progress now in healing... Chuuya: "..." *tears falling* hans: sir- Chuuya: "I-I'm fine..." hans: .... -elsewhere- Hibana: *wearing punching mitts* "Okay, aim for the mitt, Tamaki." tamaki: *PUNCH PUNCH KICK* Hibana: "Good...Watch on your right...Benimaru teach you this?" tamaki: *focusing* Hibana: *moves the mitt up* "Not bad...but you seem pissed." tamaki: oh jee, do i? i wonder why the _fuck_ that is? maybe its because _some_ people are making a fool out of me? maybe its because when most time i actually acomplish something, do people care? OF FREAKING COURSE NOT! WHO _CARES_ WHAT SHE CAN DO LETS JUST OGGLE HER BOOBS AND BUTT CAUSE THATS APPERANTLY ALL IM GOOD FOR! LIKE THEY EVEN CARE THAT I HAVE FEELINGS AND THAT IM TRYING MY BEST TO PROVE MYSELF! Hibana: "..." *takes off the mitts* "Sit down." tamaki: *plops down, tears in her eyes, even though she's still got an angry face* Hibana: "...So, if it was not apparent already, I'm hot." tamaki:...*rubs eyes* *SNIFF* Hibana: "And...when you're like us--when you're a woman--you get looked down upon. Treated as just a body." tamaki: thats total bullshit and it should be illegal. Hibana: "Agreed. And no one cares. No matter how great you are, how qualified you are...Do you know how many times I had to knock on that fucking brigade door to get the Fifth going? You think for a second gender maybe didn't have something to do with it taking this long for me and Huang to lead groups? ...What you go through? That's not just some bad luck." tamaki:....*sniff* why do people have to be assholes? Hibana: "..." *sighs* "World's not fair. All you can do is survive it..." *pat pat* tamaki: .... Hibana: "Wouldn't it be great to be such a success--that you can rub it in every one of their dumb faces?" gabriella: true, the world can be harsh, but with a bit of effort, things can get better. tamaki: i-i guess. Hibana: "..." *smiles* "Give it time, practice--and a good right hook." tamaki:..*chuckle* thanks, commander. Hibana: "...If you need something, stop by the Fifth. Door's open." tamaki:... *nods* right. -elsewhere- Kid: *hug* stocking: u///u ~<3 Kid: "You are the most...amazing..." stocking: you too. *kiss* Kid: "..." *sniff, wipes his eyes* "You make me so happy..." stocking: *snuggles* kid… *kiss* i love you so much, you know? Kid: *nods* "Which is why...I'm so happy. And I love you, always and forever, so much." stocking: hehe ^////^ Kid: *cuddle* "You perfect person..." -elsewhere- Shamrock: *knitting* lavender: *streeeeetch* Shamrock: "So, how are things?" lavender: same as usual....we should take a vacation somewhere. Shamrock: "...That would be pleasant..." otogiri: it would be nice to get out of the house for a while...preferably without C3 hounding us... Shamrock: "How? Disguises?" otogiri: possibly... Shamrock: "Well, we'd need someone who knows disguises--" Belkia: "DISGUISE KIT!" otogiri: that would be appreciated. Belkia: *opens up a box, takes out make-up* Shamrock: "Now hold on just one--" Belkia: *starts painting Sham's face* ^w^ lavender: ah, let him have his fun, sham. ^^ Belkia: "La la la~" Shamrock: X_-# "I feel like a clown..." belkia: rude =3= -elsewhere- Yumi: "We have mission requests." marie: sweet! homura: oh? Yumi: "More investigations, this time overseas." homura: i see. Yumi: "Do you have any preferred teammates you want to request?" homura: i'll put the request up and see who answers. perhaps it can be field training for some of the students. Yumi: "I trust your judgment. Keep me informed whom you choose." homura: understood. -elsewhere- Vulcan: *playing with Buttons* buttons: *squeek* yu: ^^ lisa: he seems happy. yu: vulcan or buttons? lisa: yes. Vulcan: ^\\\^; "In any case, glad someone like Relan knows how to take care of their pet..." -elsewhere- Relan: "I'm glad you got to the Fifth...but is the Commander usually this...um...hardcore?" mikami: well....she seems more fired up than she usually is. shinra: tamaki too....best not to question it. Relan: "....Good point." Random Angel: "You all. Follow me." shinra: ._.;;; (my instincts tell me this wont end well for any of us.) Relan: ._____.;;;; *The Angel leads them to a dark room* shinra: Q-Q;;;; *A match is struck* shinra: Q___Q;;; *gulps* Hibana: *lights a candle, revealing pillow cushions* "Sit." shinra: *takes a seat* Q_Q mikami: ?? ryuuko: ... Relan: "..." *sniff* "Th-They smell nice..." Hibana: "We've trained your bodies. Now we work on the minds and your feels." shinra: *passes out* Relan: D: "SHINRA!" Hibana: "??? I-I was just going to try meditating with you all..." ryuuko: i think his nerves got to him... Hibana: "..." *pours some tea* "Well, good thing I brought this." *hands the tea to Ryuuko* "Maybe dump it on him." mikami: .....hold on, im going to try something... *kneels with shinras head on her lap* ....*inhales, focusing* ryuuko:....hmm.... -...- shinra:...am i dead? mikami: i dont think so. shinra:....huh, we're in that adora place again.... mikami: you passed out from nerves. shinra: =3=;;;......hm? mikami: ?? shinra: is that...a person? *There's a figure, floating in the air...They seem to be making a sound--* ???: *snore* "Zzz..." shinra: ...??? um....hello?? mikami:...i think they're sleeping.... -4 more figures are in the distance, but they seem too far away to interact with...- *a low rhythmic sound is heard...* shinra: ?? *it's...laughter* ???: "Ha ha ha..." shinra: !!!! GAH! *wakes up with a start* mikami: *comes to* ah- ryuuko: mikami! are you alright? mikami: i-i think so... Relan: "Shinra...?" shinra: i..im ok.....may i have some water? Hibana: *hands it* shinra: thank you.... Hibana: *sighs* "Let's skip it...Just sit and rest." shinra: yes ma'am... *exits* -elsewhere- Motojiro: "This! This is the nursery! This is perfect!" leo: *she smiles* Motojiro: "We just need items...Do you have any baby items here?" hans: what all do you need? Motojiro: "Some furniture to start..." hans: im sure that wont be too hard. Walter: "Need books? I got reading material..." *holds up manga* -elsewhere- hanako: ?? shinra: ....? tamaki: whats up squirt? hanako:........*HUG* its ok. tamaki + shinra: ....... Q~Q *HUG* (TOO PRECIOUS FOR HER OWN GOOD) Hibana: *looking around the corner at it* Q_Q "...Oh, God, we're good parents." gabriella: TTuTT Hibana: *hugs, keeps watching* -elsewhere- Harvar: "What mission?" ox: looks like we're doing some security checks in shinjuku. Harvar: *groans* ox: there a problem? Harvar: "The travel...Just seems like work." ox: well, its our job. Harvar: *grumbles* "Fine...I'm bringing games." -elsewhere- george: so, this agency... Kafka: "It is full of weirdos." george: i...see....*sweatdrop* (not unlike sturm and the mafia...) Kafka: "Yet one of our former members is in their care, so they aren't all bad...Don't go near the suicidal one." george: ._. um.... .__.;;;; Kafka: *rings the doorbell* george: wait, arent sturm members bound by a contract? Kafka: *shakes his head* "Sylvia was born with an ability." naomi: yes? oh..... owo;...hello mr....um....roachman. george: *looks at kafka* Kafka: -_-# "It's Kafka. Franz Kafka. Jeez..." naomi: right...do you have an appointment with the agency? Kafka: "No. This is an update on something important. May I speak with your leader or your second-in-command?" naomi: right this way......say...you're not still mad about the whole decapitation thing, are you? ^^;;; george: O-o (DECAPITATION?!?!) Kafka: "FURIOUS." naomi: oookay then. ^-^;;;;;; Kafka: *sits down on the couch* "...Well? We're your guests. Have you no tea and treats?!" kirako: right away, sir. ^^; naomi: to be fair, we werent expecting you. ^^; Kafka: "Too be fair, you owe me! ..." *sits back, crosses his arms* "...How is Sylvia?' naomi: she's doing well. atsushi: ??.. !! Kafka: -n- "Oh. You're here, too." atsushi: yes i am. i do work here after all. Kafka: "...D-Don't sass me, you furry...furball!" >n< *crosses his arms* atsushi: *sweatdrop* naomi: mr fukuzawa will be with you in a moment, sir. *exits* Kafka: *crosses his arms* "..." *sniffs* "...What is that smell?" atsushi: *looks in the kitchenette* smells good... Kafka: "...Oh! Maybe they are baking cookies!" *stands, approaches--* "... ... ..." Dazai: *has his head towards the oven* "..." Kafka: "..." Dazai: "..." Kafka: "...WHAT THE FUCK?!" sylvia: .~.;;; Dazai: "Obviously testing the heat of this oven--what are you doing, Mr. Roach?" Kafka: "KAFKA!" Dazai: "Kafka-roach?" Kafka: -n-# sylvia: Q~Q;;;; m-m-mr dazai, please dont put your head in the oven! QAQ;;; Kafka: "Yes, get away from that, you fool! There are cookies to be had!" Dazai: *sighs* "Just testing for the sake of childproofing, you bunch of weirdos..." -and so- fukuzawa: so what is it you wanted to speak about? Kafka: "..." *ahem* "We have successfully transferred the Mafia members to our estate. _All_ of them." fukuzawa:...i see. atsushi: must be a big house *sweatdrop* Kafka: "Incredibly big. Has to for all the desires of our members: Hans's library, Walter's gaming room, Etta's dance floor--" Dazai: o\\\w\\\o;;;;;; atsushi:.... >->;;;;;;;; george:... ? Kafka: "...What is with that face? Do you have some insult against Etta? Do you? DO YOU?!" atsushi: i wasnt about to say anything!! Dazai: "I-I don't know any Etta!" Kafka: "Yes, you do. The ballet dancer?" Dazai: "I NEVER TOUCHED HER!" fukuzawa: ... atsushi: ... Kafka: "... ... ..." *hard glare* george: ._.; Dazai: "...It was just a small touch." Kafka: "..." fukuzawa + atsushi: ....... Dazai: "She's quite buxom--" Kafka: *flips the table* fukuzawa: -____-; george: mr kafka! please calm down! Kafka: "HOW DARE YOU DEFILE THAT PERFECT ANGEL!" Dazai: "I didn't defile anyone! It was an accident!" Kafka: "YOU SHOULDN'T TOUCH HER! YOU AREN'T WORTHY OF HER!" george: *literally holding kafka back from murdering someone* fukuzawa: (what even went down in berlin...? do i even want to know?) Dazai: "..." *light bulb* "Oh! You're concerned because you like her!" Kafka: O\\\\\O *stops struggling* atsushi: eh? Dazai: "You wish to defend her honor because she gives you the light that has so long evaded your dark life, the sweetness to your sour..." Kafka: .\\\\. george: that's.....oddly poetic, um…w-who did you say you were again? Dazai: ^w^ "Thank you, small person. I am Dazai. And you are?" Kafka: *frozen in embarrassment* george: it's george. george eliot. sylvia: m-mr kafka? are you alright? Kafka: Q\\\\\Q "..." *whimpers* Kunikida: "Oh, Kafka. Hello. I--" *spots them all* "...Dazai screwed up, didn't he?" george: to be honest, i have no idea whats even going on... Kunikida: "Oh, hello, ma'am." george: OwO;;;;; *points to sylvia* d-doesnt she work with you, though??? ^^;;;; Kunikida: "...Oh. Sorry. I didn't..." *clears his throat* george: ^^;;;;;;  (just play it cool, george. play it. fucking. cool.) Kafka: *high-pitched whine* "I'm mortified...Just cut my head off all over again, Furball." atsushi: no thank you.... fukuzawa: *aHEM* if we could get back to the matter at hand? Kafka: *sniffs* "We-We locked up Mori..." fukuzawa:....i see.... Kafka: "The other members of the Mafia are accounted for...I did have some notes from them to some of your Agency members." fukuzawa: i see. i'll round them up now. -and so- Kafka: "Which one of you is 'Aya'?" aya: *raises her hand* (oh boy...) Kafka: "From the small one named...Um...R? Was it R? Or P?" aya: Q? Kafka: "That's the one." *hands the letter* aya: *inhales and opens it* *The handwriting looks like Q had to re-write it repeatedly--a little messy* aya: *squints*....kunikida can i-..._may_ i borrow your glasses? Kunikida: "...Okay. Don't break them." aya: *puts them on and begins reading* Q’s note: [Hello, Aya! How are you? I miss you.] aya:...*sigh* Q’s note: [Can I marry you?!] aya:... -_-; this poor kid, i swear. Kafka: "Furball, from the Skunk." *hands a letter to Atsushi* atsushi:....*INHALES* oh boy.... Akutagawa’s note: [Dear Atsushi--We have settled into the new facilities. All seems well, and my sister and I are safe. How are you? I hope you are well--and that news of my move calms your mind, as well as the fact I still have not killed.] atsushi: *sweatdrop and continues* Akutagawa’s note: [And I will not kill up to our agreement--at which point I expect you to honor our agreement.] atsushi: ........ Dazai: "And this one's for me!" *opens it...and the color fades from his face* .______. naomi: *peeeeks*..... *It's a drawing of Chuuya giving the middle finger and certain words not suitable for children written down by Gin and others* naomi:..... kenji:...naomi? naomi: huehuehuehuehue~ Tanizaki: -_-; atsushi: was that everything, then? Kafka: "..." *hands one to Fukuzawa* fukuzawa:...*opens it* *It's Mori's handwriting* fukuzawa:........*reads* Mori’s note: [--they treat me well. But I am alone and locked away.] fukuzawa:.... Mori’s note: I want her to return. fukuzawa:...*sigh* Kunikida: "Sir?" fukuzawa: *puts the letter away* it's alright... Kunikida: "..." *nods* Kafka: "We will keep you updated to their condition--and I expect you will share information that can help us against the Rats." fukuzawa: of course. atsushi: we'll keep an eye out. fukuzawa: have you made contact with manhasset? Kafka: "Yes...What do you think of this Fitzgerald?" atsushi:....welllllll... >->;;;;; its a long story.... Kafka: "He seems...Well, I don't think his reactions to my colleagues were very cordial." *clenches his fists* "Especially how he welcomed Etta--" Dazai: OwO Kafka: "QUIET, YOU!" atsushi: ...^^; Kafka: "...*ahem* Keep an eye on Fitzgerald. I don't trust him." atsushi: already on that too... Kafka: "...Oh. ...Well, I guess you're all so organized, then." atsushi: i suppose. Kafka: -n- "Hmph. We're organized, too. Were able to give you all a run for your money..." -elsewhere- Steinbeck: "Does everything in this town feel...off?" twain: what do you mean? emily: other than constant fog? Hemingway: "Seems really old-fashioned--like it's stuck in time." emily: a few small towns are like that. Hemingway: "...True..." *takes a harpoon* "I'm going for a walk." emily: ._.; Steinbeck: "He'll be fine--I told him not to stab anyone." emily: *sweatdrop* sir..... baum: in any case, we better begin our investigation... Steinbeck: "Right..." *takes out the souvenir map of Sleepy Hollow* "Let's divide this up..." emily: i'll investigate the community college. Steinbeck: "I can try some of the bars..." twain: im gonna check the park! baum: dorothy and i will stay here as home base. Steinbeck: *nods* "Very well." -elsewhere- Kafka: -n- "I expected a decent apology from you..." Dazai: ^w^ "I expected you to kill me." Kafka: -_______-# ranpo:..... Kafka: "..." ("Is he a child?") ranpo:....oi. mr kafka-roach. Kafka: "IT'S KAFKA! JUST KAFKA!" >n< ranpo: right, anyway i have a favor to ask of you out in the hall... Kafka: "..." *walks with him* ("Why the secret?") ranpo:...some time before the agency encountered sturm, my friend gave me a warning. 'soon, the agency will receive a mission that could destroy it'. i dont know if he's dead or alive now, but i want to ask you something. if something does happen, get the agency to safety. Kafka: "...We have an agreement with your Agency. I am sure my boss can honor your request." ranpo: please do... Kafka: "..." *nods* -elsewhere- -a light rain is falling- yuuji: *walking* Izuku: *holding a shopping bag* ^w^ "Took forever, but I found it--" yuuji:...oh, hey midoriya. Izuku: "Oh! Hello! How are you?" ^^ yuuji: just taking a walk, enjoying the weather. Izuku: "Yeah, spring is great...Should be fun!" yuuji: heard you're going to be having an exam next month. Izuku: "Yeah--kind of nervous after how the tournament went..." yuuji: understandable... Izuku: "Has Aizawa asked you to monitor?" yuuji: havent gotten around to it yet. Izuku: "Well, hope he does..." -elsewhere- Damon: "...So...He said you're a cat." blair: why yes indeed~ *poof* ta-dah~! becky:...oh. Damon: "Eep!" *hides behind Becky* blair: its ok, im not going to hurt you, honest. *puts up a paw* Damon: *peek* "..." *holds out a hand* "Promise?" blair: *puts other paw over her heart* scouts honor~ ^^ Damon: "...Do you mind being pet?" blair: not at all, hun~ ^^ becky:..*pat pat* blair: =w= Damon: "..." *pat* -elsewhere- shinra: *looking at photo albums* Akitaru: *walks by* "???" shinra: hope you dont mind me looking, sir. ^^; Akitaru: "Hey, no biggie...but, um, why?" shinra: just curious i gue-.... ._. huh... Akitaru: "...Oh. That." shinra: wow. Akitaru: ^^;;;;; "I...had a bit of a punk phase." shinra: ah... Akitaru: "Used to go to the best concerts, mosh like nobody's business--" *does the devil horn signs* "ROCK ON!" shinra: *mimics him* YEAH! >u< Akitaru: ^^ "RAWR!" shinra: *laughs* Akitaru: "I still have some of the old stuff on vinyl." shinra: cool. *smiles* Akitaru: "I'll put one on..." *opens a drawer, pulls out a cardboard box* "The fashion was wild back then! All those spikes--hair took forever..." shinra: i could imagine. Akitaru: "Let's try this one--Dead Jeffersons!" -elsewhere- Kafka: *walking back to the HQ* etta: welcome back~! Kafka: "..." .\\\\\. "...I WILL DEFEND YOU!" etta:....eh? OvO Kafka: "..." o\\\\\\o "...I ran into undesirables at the Agency. I did my best. It wasn't enough...I suck." hans: well, what all happened? Kafka: "..." *ahem* *stands professionally now* "I distributed the letters. The Agency has protected Sylvia." hans: thats good to know. *smile* Kafka: "I received a request from the Agency. One of them expects a problem in the future." hans: ?? Kafka: "We are expected to move the Agency to safety, if something happens. It sounds like...the chibi Sherlock Holmes person did not want to let the others know of his request." Walter: *pops up from the couch* " 'Chibi'?" hans:... ^^; Kafka: "I would address the question to Goethe--but I think you are more likely to give a straight answer." hans: *she nods* come along. Kafka: *follows* -elsewhere- Hibana: "It's quieter now..." gabriella: yeah. Hibana: "...You think they learned anything?" gabriella: i think so... Hibana: "...I hope." *rests a head on her shoulder* gabriella: u///u Hibana: "And our little girl...Wow." gabriella: im so proud of her TT~TT Hibana: "I know." T~T *hugs* -elsewhere- Black Star: "They want a vacation?" tsubaki: just up to vegas.....i sent someone to watch after them. Black Star: "Really? Who?" -and so- Belkia: "LOOK AT THE LIGHTS!" lavender: WOOOT! otogiri: -_-; ayami: oh wow... Sakuya: "A little too bright..." lilac: >~< naho: *pats their back* misono: how did we get dragged into this? lavender: say, you're not still mad about the whole christmas incident...are you? OvO;;; Lily: "Misono, look--an entire club for taking off clothes!" misono: LILY. FOCUS. Sakuya: "...I'm gonna guess they are. Better not get too close to them..." Lily: ^^; "Now, what was your question? Oh, yes..." *deathly serious smiling face* "..." lavender: OvO;;;;;;; Belkia: "I thiiiiiiiiiink you opened up an old wound--" Lily: "You have no idea~" ^^# lavender: *SWEATS* otogiri:....let me be the first to give a formal apology. (even if there was a reason...) Lily: "Thank you, ma'am." lavender: ^^;;;;;;;;; Lily: *stares at Lavender* lavender: OvO;;;; sorry~ ^^;;;;; Lily: ^^ "Thank you." -elsewhere- goethe: so that's what you have to report...? Kafka: *nods* "As far as I can tell, Chibi Holmes was sincere." goethe: hmm... Kafka: "Would you actually bring in their members? And what awful thing is he anticipating?" goethe: they are our allies, it only makes sense to do so...as for what he anticipates.....im not exactly a psychic. =3= Kafka: -___-# "I'm just making conversation in hopes that discussion could lead us to anticipate what could--" goethe: too long winded! get to the point before i die of boredom =3= Kafka: -_-# "...Just brainstorming." -elsewhere- Chuuya: "It's good to have clean laundry again..." higuchi: yeah anyway. Chuuya: "What's up?" higuchi: just getting somewhat back to normalcy... Chuuya: "...Yeah. No more dumpster diving--I hope." higuchi: ^^; Walter: *pops up* "Don't knock it--the freegan movement is vital." higuchi:....why were you in- Walter: *pulls out a bag of bread* "See this? Free bread! Only two days past 'best by' date, and I found it in the dumpster!" higuchi: ... -elsewhere- Takehisa: "How was training, Tamaki?" tamaki: -_- too many people at the 1st piss me off so much. Takehisa: "...I'm sorry. That kind of happens there. But did you make friends?" tamaki:...... -____________________- Takehisa: "...Did you learn new techniques?" -elsewhere- Belkia: "Gather all, for the illusive illusions of the great, the powerful, the not-half-bad...BELKIA!" -applause- lavender: ^^ Belkia: "My lovely assistant, Lavender--open the box!" lavender: *doing so* Belkia: "You can see this box is lined with multiple blades. I call it 'The Box of Murder'!" ayami: *claps* lilac: ._.;;; Belkia: "Lavender, if you'll be so kind..." *steps inside* "Close the box, count to five slowly, then open the box!" -later- Belkia: "Thank you, thank you!" *holds out his hat for cash* -elsewhere- Haumea: *whistling* kagu-tsuchi:....charon? are you in? Charon: *grumbles* kagu-tsuchi: ...is something bothering you? Charon: "Got to get stronger..." kagu-tsuchi: did you remember to eat today? Charon: =_= "I don't need--" *STOMACH GROWL* kagu-tsuchi: ...come on. *opens the door and drags him out* Charon: *grumbles* "Don't treat me like some child..." kagu-tsuchi: *sweatdrop* Charon: "...We got pizza bagels?" kagu-tsuchi: i'll check...........lady haumea, do we have pizza bagels? Haumea: "Jonah ate them all!" kagu-tsuchi: -_-# Charon: -_____-# "I'm gonna rip him in two..." -elsewhere- Dazai: *hums* atsushi: *wave* Dazai: "Hey, what up?" atsushi: the usual.......can i ask you something personal? Dazai: "Sure!" atsushi: where were you before joining the agency? after leaving the....y'now... Dazai: "...Well, I had to lie low for a bit..." atsushi: understandable.... Dazai: "You know Masuji?" atsushi: ?? i think so? the name sounds familiar… Dazai: "Publisher." atsushi: hmmm....i see. Dazai: "Yep...Then I came here." atsushi: ... Dazai: "...So, now you know that." ^^; atsushi: yeah... Dazai: "...Something else you wanted to know about it?" atsushi: any other stories? Dazai: "Like about hanging out with Masuji? Or the time Chuuya and I put on dresses?" atsushi: oh? Dazai: "There was the time we were kids, the time we were undercover, the time we got smashed--" sylvia: um...m-mr dazai? Dazai: "Hmm? What's up, Sylvia?" sylvia: um.... .~.;;; Dazai: OwO; "...Yeah?" sylvia: Q~Q i forgot.... Dazai: ^w^ "Happens to the best of us." -elsewhere- emily: *looking around the building* Twain: "So many doors..." emily: *notices the study hall* maybe someone here knows something. *enters* -there are a few people there, including a young woman, sitting at one of the chairs and reading* Twain: "..." *approaches the young woman* girl:.... can i help you? Twain: "Howdy! We're new to town--you know an Irving?" girl: no. sorry... Twain: "Aw, nuts. Hey, what you reading?" girl: .... -seems to be a text book- Twain: "What'cha studying?" girl:....*glances behind him* Twain: OwO; ???: "Something wrong here?" emily: ._. girl: just some weird guy bothering me, babe. ???: "How 'bout you come with me, buddy..." *grips Twain by the shoulder* Twain: OwO;;;;;;;;; emily: excuse me, he was just asking her a question. does the name 'irving' ring any bells, sir? ^^;;; ???: "Nah. Ask Mr. Crane." emily: right. where is he? ???: "Office hours, I think. Room 310." emily: thank you. *drags twain off* Twain: Q____Q emily: *searching* *There's a door with some gothic art taped to it* emily *examines* Twain: Q_Q "That's some weird art..." emily: (seems like something poe would have framed in his room...) *There's a rattling heard inside the room* emily: ?? *listening* *A small laugh is heard...* emily: ._.; Twain: "What on earth is he--" *The door slams open--crushing Twain* emily: D8 Twain: *smushed voice* "I'm fine..." ???: "I got it! I can't wait to share my findings--" *spots Emily* "...Oh. Um, my office hours are finished. Please email to make an appointment--" emily: um....hello? ???: "Yes, hello. I was in the middle of heading to inform someone--Wait...You're not one of my students. Who are you?" emily: we'll explain momentarily. but for now, we're searching for a man named 'Washington irving'. do you know where we might find him? ???: "...Yeeeeeeeees?" emily: that's great! we're researching local legends in the area. Crane: *shiny eyes* "Then you found the right person!" ^w^ -elsewhere- Damon: "Who are some of your other friends?" soul: well we got uncle kilik, aunt sayaka, kim and jackie, uncle ox, harvar's kind of a butt, uncle hyde, etc. becky: oh. Damon: "..." *laughs* "Harvar butt...Did you go to school with them?" soul: yeah, they were school mates of mine. actually aunt sayaka is still technically a student. ^^; Damon: "...Did you like school?" soul:....*sad smile* it was nice. Damon: "...Must have been nice..." soul:...still having trouble? Damon: "..." *nods* "This is all new..." soul: it can be a bit scary at first, but it will be ok... becky:... soul: *hugs them both* Damon: "...Thanks..." -elsewhere- Relan: "You were a good boy, Buttons?" buttons: ^o^ Relan: ^w^ *pet pet* *holds out cheese* button: *NOM* Relan: "Hee hee...So cute." -elsewhere- Black Star: [how is it going? everyone out of jail?] otogiri: [no one was arrested, thankfully.] Black Star: [good. having fun?] otogiri: [for the most part, yes] -elsewhere- Steinbeck: *walking by bars* -quiet, save for some music coming from inside- Steinbeck: *approaches the music* -seems lively in there- Steinbeck: "..." *walks to the bar* bartender: new in town? Steinbeck: "Yep. Visiting. What you recommend?" bartender: we make a damn good bloody mary here. or did you want something on draft? Steinbeck: "Just draft. And any appetizer?" guy: i'm telling you, somethin's out in the woods! Steinbeck: *glances back, listening in* Guy #2: "Yeah, wind." guy: im being serious! i was out there earlier this week with my dogs, and one of them took off. when i found her, she was cowering like she'd seen the damn devil 'imself. Guy #2: "So, they saw your sister?" guy: screw off. Guy #2: "Screw your sister--" Steinbeck: "Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt..." guy: yeah? what? Steinbeck: "Whereabout did your dog go?" guy: she was near an old salt mine in the woods. she's fine now. Steinbeck: "Ah. I think I know where that is..." guy: you do? Steinbeck: "I've asked around town...The one north of here?" guy: yeah, that's the one. just before the waterfall... Steinbeck: "On it...Thanks." guy: just be careful.... -morning- Allison: "Wakey-wakey..." erina: nnnh..... Allison: "...I made waffles!" erina: thanks.... Allison: "You're welcome! Sleep alright?" erina: yeah...*yaaaawn* Allison: "Long work shift?" erina: yeah... Allison: "Anything planned after that?" -elsewhere- Yumi: "Okay, let's get back to the garden work..." liz: ^^ Patty: *holding a potted sapling* "All set! Even got the trimming shears." ellen: do you need anything else? Yumi: "Two more trowels?" Patty: "Fertilizer!" -elsewhere- michelle: ..... Neuhaus: *sets down tea* michelle:...thank you.........can we have katsudon? Neuhaus: "Of course...I just hope I can do it right..." michelle: thank you... *faint smile* -elsewhere- Steinbeck: *knocked out cold* "Zzz..." emily: *asleep on the chair* Steinbeck: *groans* "Damn headache..." *turns over--and falls off the couch* emily: *startled awake* Steinbeck: *face-down on bear rug* "..." *muffled* "Ow." emily: are you alright? Steinbeck: "Beer...is evil." emily:... ^-^; Steinbeck: "How'd I get back?" emily: ernest found you passed out near the woods. Steinbeck: "...Woods? Why the heck was I there?” emily: you were saying something about a salt mine? Steinbeck: "...Oh! Right. Ghosts!" emily: ghosts? Steinbeck: "Or something scaring dogs and people out in the forest." emily: hmm... twain: ooooooh.... OwO Steinbeck: "..." *sighs* "What, Twain?" twain: we got ourselfs a classic 'town with a dark secret' situation here! emily:....wonder how lovecraft is doing? Steinbeck: ^w^ "Fine, I'm sure... ... ..." =\\\~\\\= "I need to throw up..." emily: *pat pat* -elsewhere- oscar: howard, ever think of settling down and having kids of your own? lovecraft:? why should i settle down when i can just make one now? *detaches a tentacle, that mutates into a young girl*.....oh.... oscar: OvO *SCARRED FOR LIFE* -elsewhere- Damon: *walking to class* "..." teacher: good morning. *nods* momo sakura: *wave* Damon: "Morning..." ._.; *sits* momo sakura: ?? Damon: "..." *takes out his book* "Um...Which page?" momo sakura: page 94. Damon: "Thanks...Um...What was your name?" momo sakura: momo. Damon: "Momo. Right." -elsewhere- Poe: *brings out more books* "Here you are, Miss Harudori." tsugumi: thank you, sir! ^^ Poe: "How is the research?" tsugumi: doing well. Poe: "That's good. Anything interesting you found?" tsugumi: well, i suppose i have. just more information on grigori souls... Poe: "The ones that create wings?" tsugumi: *she nods* Poe: "Any luck on yours?" tsugumi: sadly no... =3=; Poe: "Oh, dear...I'm sure with more time and reading..." tsugumi: y-yeah.... -elsewhere- Kyoka: "So she was some preternaturally good-luck annoying sugar princess?" tamaki: =~= yes. it was hell... Kyoka: *pat pat* "All horrors create some end. At least you're away from her." tamaki: i guess... -elsewhere- Asako: "How was training?" vivian: it was quite an experience~ tao: it was fun! ^^ Asako: "Oh, good! Learned a lot from Commander Hibana?" tao: yep! princess iron fan taught us a whole lot of stuff! Asako: ^^; "I'm sure our commander looks forward to seeing you apply it." -elsewhere- Asura: *swinging his scarf like a jump rope* heibito: *jumping* ^u^ Asura: "Yay..." *small smile* mikan: ^^ Asura: "You're up to 20 jumps now..." heibito: hehehe! luka: ....its surreal. Nirvana worker: "What? Just a son and dad playing..." luka:...i suppose...*sips her coffee* they're the furthest thing from being human, and yet... Nirvana worker: "Think these are habits that go beyond humans?" luka:....cant say for sure...but they behave more human than most people do.... Nirvana worker: "Like Becky after one too many mojitos..." luka: *siiiigh* fuckin' hammond.... Nirvana Worker: *nods* "So, what else you notice about those kishin?" luka:....*shrug* Nirvana Worker: "What about what they drink while they eat souls?" -elsewhere- Hemingway: "Hungover? On what you drank? Ha! When I was your age, I drank an entire pickup truck of moonshine, and I'm fine." *looks around* "...Did my vision go again?" emily: *sweatdrop* baum: ... dorothy: ...? Twain: *still looking worse for wear* "Baum, have you done anything this trip?" baum: dorothy and i did some local reading. seems to be a lot of urban legends and ghost sightings here. Twain: "Well, we knew that talking to Professor Crane-game." baum: 737 Steinbeck: "And you got your butt kicked by a jealous boyfriend." Twain: Q_Q emily: ^^; *pap pap* baum: so whats today's gameplan? Steinbeck: "It's still daytime, so I propose exploring near the suspected site." baum: dorothy and i will accompany you. Steinbeck: "Good. Emily, can you gather more research?" emily: *she nods* Twain: "I'll go with you--for protection." emily: thanks. ^^; Hemingway: "I'm going to go hunting." emily: just be careful. Hemingway: "Righ. I'll make dinner tonight with what I catch. Hope you like fish and squirrel." -elsewhere- Kyoka: *folds paper* "Then you can count numbers to learn your fortune..." sylvia: ... Kyoka: *holds up the destiny paper toy* "Okay. Ready?" sylvia: *nod* o-ok. Kyoka: "I'll choose 5. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5..." *opens* "..." *reads* "..." sylvia: w-what does it say? Kyoka: " 'Don't take candy from strangers.' ...Why did I write that?" sylvia: hmmm.... Hyde: *pops up* "Want candy, folks?!" Kyoka: *PUNCH* sylvia: QAQ licht: *KICKS HIM* -_- Kyoka: "Scaring other people." *kicks him* "How dare you." Hyde: X____X ("Ophelia...Am I dead?") (soul: hyde? hyyyde? you up?) soul: yo, hyde. becky: ?? Damon: "Uncle Hyde?" Hyde: XuX "Hi, kids. I'm up..." *sits up--and falls over again* -elsewhere- Kafka: -n- "What errand is it that you want?" george: looks like we're investigating a small area in the slums... Kafka: "...That sounds dirty." george: im sure it wont be too bad. i've seen worse. Kafka: "...I'm sure. Where exactly did you live again?" george: it was around here...there it is! Kafka: "???" ("What am I seeing?") -it seems to be an old shed with a few orphaned kids playing nearby- Kafka: "..." *small frown, looks away* "So, you'll talk with them?" george:....oooi! kiddos! boy: ?? hey, george is back. girl: we thought you died or somethin' Kafka: *watches* ("What is George, their caretaker?") george: sorry guys, some things happened. but i do have some good news, i got us a place to stay! Kafka: "..." *walks up* Child 3: "Really?! Where?" george: this guy can take us there. well, we better gather up our stuff, ok? Stephan: ^^ "Yay!" *looks at Kafka* "... ... Can we trust him?" Kafka: "?!" george: cross my heart. tom: is he gonna be our dad now? Stephan: "...Ooooookay." *goes inside* Kafka: OnO "I most certainly will not!" george: there's lots of people at the new place, even a few other kids! Bessy: "A-Are they mean or anything?" george: wilhelm and jakob are a bit mischievous, but mostly harmless. (really its a few of the grown ups you should be worried about...) Stephan: *dropping items into an empty cardboard box* *looks out the window* Kafka: -n- " 'Mischievous'? They once shaved my eyebrows off in my sleep..." maggie: *giggle* Kafka: "It's not funny...Walter drew new ones on me--with glittery ink!" maggie + tom: *laughing* george:...*smile* *footsteps are heard* george: !!!! kids, hide. now. Bessy: Q_Q "Wh-Why?" Kafka: "???" *turns* ???: haaaa, so boooooring... ???: "D'aw, but look--cute babies!" Kafka: "..." ("Who on earth...?") george: *standing on the defensive* Bessy: Q_Q *stepping back slowly* ???: "Look! That one's trying to get away..." 'greed oni': probably wont have much on them but scrap. totally lame. the tall guy though... george: !!!! Kafka: *narrows his eyes* "I have nothing for you. Now scoot." 'greed oni': lets see how lucky that one is... *rolls a die....causing an explosion* george: !!! get inside! now! Kafka: *consumed by the explosion* "GAH!" Bessy: Q_Q Stephan: *hiding under the window* "Wh-What are they doing?!" maggie: *picks bessy up and gets her inside* george: i dont know, but for now, we need to hurry. *hands them two knapsacks* Bessy: *clutches hers* Mantis: >_< "You blew up the tall one!" 'greed oni': boo, how bor-....hn? *all that is left are burnt clothes* Mantis: "Um...I'm no physist-ist-ic, but don't people usually just get burnt? Not just leaving clothes behind..." 'greed oni':...that's weird..... *chittering is heard* Mantis: "???" *splat* 'greed oni': ?! *glances up*....aw fuck. Mantis: "..." *there is some ooze on his shoulder* ??? *looks up* "!!!?!!" *There's a drooling, very pissed up roach on the alley wall...* 'greed oni': *nervous smirk* mother fucker. Roach: *roars, leaps down* 'greed oni': *jumps back* Roach: *rushes at Greed, slamming into dumpsters along the way* Mantis: *tosses blades, missing* "Damn it!" 'greed oni': shit! *rolls die* give me something good here! Roach: *shows off a ferocious set of teeth* "yOU THinK I WAS JUST, whAT, GOING tO GIVe up MY WALLET?!" 'greed oni': the fuck even are you? Roach: *crashes into Greed* "YOUR NIGHTMARE: a greEDY LITtle ROAch!" 'greed oni': mantis! do something, you idiot! -inside- Bessy: *unable to move* Stephan: "WHAT IS THAT?!" george: .....ok, maggie, if things get hairy, take the others and run to the outskirts of town, there's a van with some anime girls on it and they'll get you to the safe place, ok? maggie: how do we know which one? george: *hands her a picture* it's that one. maggie:...o-ok.. Bessy: "W-We can't leave you--" george: it'll be ok, i promise. *smiles* tom: ok, that's everything now. Bessy: *whimpering* Stephan: "Just avoid the weird roach thing outside..." george: .....i'll explain later about that. maggie: come on! lets go! Stephan: "On it!" *follows Maggie* {Dazai: "--Roachman--" Goethe: "--roach--" Ranpo: "Roachman."} george: ... -BOOOM- *the house rocks* george: AH! *her leg got stabbed with debris* c-crap... RUN! maggie: *takes philips hand and runs with one sack* Bessy: "GEORGE!" *trying to reach back* george: *trying to stand, limping* o-ow... -a pipe was busted, leaking water inside- 'greed oni': that all you got, you big ugly? Roach: *growls* "I AM NOT ABOUT TO GIVE UP ANYTHING FOR SOME WORTHLESS HOODLUMS, YOU STUPID FIERY BEASTS! IT IS MY MONEY! AND I AM SICK OF LOSING ALL TO YOU SUCH STUPID, STUPID PEOPLE!" {*Goethe looks...smirks*} Roach: *roars, rushes--and passes the building, everything looking like slow-motion, as he spots George* "...?!" george: *limping, trying to carry bessy away* Bessy: *crying* Roach: "..." ("Oh, God--") *SLICE* Roach: *SCREAMS* *one of his limbs is flopping on the ground* Mantis: *pants* "Look at that...He's easy to slice..." 'greed oni': why dont we just raid this bitch?.....oh?....oops~ *drops die* -BOOOM- -the house is beginning to burn up- george: !!!! *grabs bessy and limps over to the puddle of water* (please let this work!) Mantis: *face lit up by the flames* "I used to love pinning down bugs...rip off their wings and limbs..." *stabs blades into the Roach's back* Roach: *roars, panting...* "I'll kill you..." 'greed oni': oh~? Bessy: *panicking, unable to breathe, clutching George* Roach: "That's...a promise--" *SLICE* Roach: *screams, an antenna cut off* Mantis: "Empty words, monster." george: *jumps into the water......popping up in a tub back at the sturm base* *GASP* bessy! are you ok? hans: !!!! leroux, get them to medical! Leroux: "!!! R-Right..." *picks up Bessy* Bessy: *sobbing* -in Walter's van- maggie: there it is! Walter: *listening to music* "--shining finger!" Stephan: "...What the heck is this guy?" maggie: well, if george trusts them....*bangs on the door* HEY!!! Walter: *checks his phone* "...?! How did George get all the way there before--" *looks out the window* "...Oh. Hello." maggie: let us in! philip: th-there's a roach monster and fire! Walter: "What?!" *unlocks the door* "Ah, poop..." *looks out the window* "..." *lifts the sun visor* "Buckle up, kids..." *buckles himself* -the kids do so- -back in the alley- Mantis: *flipping through a wallet* " 'Franz'? What, your parents hated you?" *flips to photos* "Huh. That girl's cute..." *It's a photo of Franz's sister* Roach: *pinned, numerous blades in his shoulder* *panting* "Giv-Give it...back..." 'greed oni': we coooould....or we just burn the useless stuff and take the money. Roach: "?!!! P-Please...don't..." Mantis: "...Wow. I've seen a lot of things--but a bug crying? That's just sad..." 'greed oni': really sad...it makes me want to puke. can i just-.....hn? Mantis: "Yeah..." *pockets the cash, tosses the wallet down next to the Roach* Roach: "..." Mantis: *aims a kunai* "Let's just kill it and--" *CRASH* 'greed oni': !!!! *Mantis is knocked off his feet and into the dumpster* Walter: Q_Q "...Crap. I think I killed that person..." Roach: "Walt-Walter...You stupid..." Walter: "Kakfa! You're still..." *gets out, pulling the blades out* "Yeah, call me stupid...Just keep talking..." 'greed oni':...tch-...*grabs mantis and flees* Roach: "The wallet..." Walter: "..." *grabs it, pulling the roach into the back of the van* "Jeez, you're heavy..." maggie: wait....that's the guy with george?! Roach: *groans...* "The kids...George..." philip:...bruh. Walter: "They got back...Just sleep..." *The Roach reverts into Kafka* maggie: *covers her eyes* Walter: "...?!" *puts a blanket over Kafka* "AT LEAST WEAR PANTS!" *It's a pretty girl anime blanket* Stephan: "What even is all of this, Mister?" philip:....are we gonna die? maggie: ._.; Walter: "...Typical day, I guess? And no, you're not going to die..." maggie: HOW IS THIS _TYPICAL_?! Walter: "One time Kafka lost his head. Literally." kids:............................ philip: *passes out* Kafka: “…..” -elsewhere- kan: got the notes! *puts them onto a desk of one of the publishing company employees* Employee: "...Um...What?" kan: the note paper you asked me for? ^^; Employee: "Oh, right..." *flips through* sakutaro: kikuchi. the boss has assigned another task for you. *hands them a photo* it's a new member of the company. you and miyoshi are to meet them at the airport today. kan: yes sir! miyoshi: .~.; sakutaro: and try not to screw up. miyoshi: Q~Q o-kaaaaaayyyyy... kan: miss tatsuji, remember your breathing. miyoshi: *INHAAAAALES* i-im good... ???: "Waaaiiii....Ooooo...KAH!" *making poses* kan: ooooi, eiji! were heading out now! Eiji: *stops posing* "Okay!" *bows to his samurai action figure* "BRB." *follows* miyoshi: mr yoshikawa if i end up passing out, you take the wheel. Eiji: " 'Ight! But try to keep under the speed limit..." -elsewhere- ???: "What a mess you two made--over, what, $40 and a...cicada?" Mantis: "Roach." 'greed oni': they guy hit mantis with a fucking van- Mantis: "HOW AM I NOT DEAD?!" ???: "Stubbornness." Mantis: >n< 'lust oni': it's quite amazing actually~, right isadora honey~? 'greed oni': ugh, i told you, it's 'izzy'! Mantis: "Jeez, get a room." izzy: mantis, you know that's how they are to everyone...fitting for the oni of lust. 'lust oni: guilty as charged~<3 Mantis: "My point stands--get a room, even if it's by yourself." hyouga: regardless, lets just get back to the meeting. Mantis: "Hmph." *counts money* ???: "Look at me, Mantis." Mantis: "I'm looking, Pride..." Pride: "...Very well. What are we here to discuss?" taoka:.....*glances at another person*....you havent spoken a word since the meeting started. Envy: "...How come PRIDE gets to start us off?!" Mantis: -_- *eyeroll* izzy: cuuuz the boss put him in charge? Envy: "I COULD DO IT, TOO!" Pride: "Yes, but poorly." Envy: *incoherent scream* lust oni: oh my, there they go again~ ^^ taoka: so unprofessional... hyouga: now come on you two, you're grown ass adults, start acting like it.

Pride: "I am nothing if not mature." Envy: "I CAN BE MORE GROWN UP THAN THE LOT OF YOU! So, what's the next tasks after 'failed alley robbery #487?" Mantis: -n- "It was 'Successful Alley Robbery...#7." taoka: 'retrieving wrath'? Pride: "...Oy." Mantis: "We have to?" -elsewhere- juria: *chewing gum, leaning against the wall* Carin: "...Yo." juria: *pop*....*pop*...... Carin: "Hey. You had tasks to do." *offers a broom* juria:...so? Carin: "So get to work and drop the attitude, you bum." juria: heres some food for thought. if you want the work done so badly, why dont _you_ do it? Carin: "Because it's assigned to _you_, I have other tasks to finish--and because I said so!" juria: three things. 1, i. 2, dont, and 3, care. Carin: "...Look, your royal highness, do I need the commander to have you scrubbing toilets with a toothbrush?" juria: how would _you_ like to be swallowing your own teeth? Carin: "Try it--I'm sure someone would love to have you dead where you stand." juria: *flame gauntlet* bring it. ogun: come on guys, knock it off. gwen: .... Carin: *grumbles* "Fine..." *turns his back* "Dumb gum-chewing demon..." juria: you two want in on the pain train too?! WELL COME ON THEN! *DEAFENING WHISTLE* juria: >-o gwen: >^< Pan: "..." *lowers the whistle* "You all done?" Carin: *covering his ears* Q_Q -elsewhere- hans: *patching up george* Leroux: Q_Q "Oh, dear..." Goethe: "..." *sighs* george: c-could have been worse....but on a lighter note, i think i know how my ability works.... Goethe: "...Well, that's right on time. It's going to let you travel, then?" george: yeah, but just as long as theres water nearby... Goethe: "That's a pain, Aqualad...Carry a water bottle with you." george:....*sweatdrop* (what kind of nickname is that...) etta:....the van's back! george: the others- hans: you stay right there young man! walter: we're back. and we got another patient... *The back door of the van opens, revealing the kids--and Kafka, covered with a blanket* Kafka: "..." *barely conscious* maggie: george! *hug* Leroux: *covers his mouth* george: !!! mr kafka! etta: !!!!! *shocked* Goethe: "Jeez..." Kafka: *shivers, pulls the blanket over himself, ashamed* hans: what the hell even happened to him? *there's blood in the back of the van* walter: things got bad...there were these goons that showed up.... Kafka: "F-Fire..." hans:...... Goethe: "Get him to the infirmary, too. And get him a hospital smock or something..." -and so- hans:....christ, kafka, what were you thinking?! Kafka: "...I just...got wrapped up..." Goethe: "You acted stupidly, you pest." walter: ...... Kafka: "..." george:....still.....he did buy time for us.... Kafka: "..." Goethe: "And if he had paid attention and done what he was supposed to, you wouldn't have needed to get more time..." Leroux: *pulls back the blanket--and all color fades from his face* "..." hans:...leroux?...what-.....!!!!! walter:.....*his stomach drops in shock* Kafka: "...What are you all looking at?" *Carved into back: "ROACH"* george:....y-your back..... Kafka: "...What did they do..." walter:..... *holds up two mirrors so that he could see it...* im sorry..... Kafka: "...Everybody...get out." hans: but- Kafka: "GET OUT! ALL OF YOU, GET OUT! I HATE YOU! I HATE EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU! NOW GET OUT RIGHT NOW!" hans:...... george:...... walter:....... Goethe: "...Come on. Let the roach ruminate..." Kafka: *furious roar--without turning into a roach* hans: ........*puts george into a wheelchair and exits* *All head to the exit...but Walter* george: *looks back, sympathetically...* ..... walter:........... Kafka: *looking at the wall* "...I said leave." walter: .....*he shakes his head* why do you keep doing this? Kafka: "Doing what?" walter: you keep pushing people away, even when they're only trying to help you... Kafka: " 'Help'? Oh, yes, real helpful. George was a big help with my back. Goethe was so helpful with that insult. You, Walter, were sooooooo helpful getting there late! What, had a show to go binge watch?!" walter: *grabs kafka by the collar* HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THINGS WOULD GO TO SHIT? HUH?! Kafka: "?! Unhand me! Haven't I suffered enough for everything?!" walter: do you think i _wanted_ you to be put through this?! newsflash, we're only human! we make mistakes like this! Kafka: "I'M NOT! I am supposed to get it right! I should be perfect! And now, I'm just...some insect!" walter: ..... Kafka: "I hate all of this! I hate all of you! And I’m miserable! And now I’m stuck in here because of this insane Faustian bargain!” walter: then why havent you left then? what's keeping you here!? Kafka: “...Because I have nowhere to go.” walter:....... etta: *listening from outside, tears falling* ..... Kafka: "...What, go home to a family that I can't show myself to? What friends?" walter: ..... Kafka: "...I can't even die...Not normally." walter:...........*hug* Kafka: "..." *too exhausted to push him away, he cries silently* walter: we arent going to give up on you that easily, ok? Kafka: "...You should..." walter: well we're not. so get used to it, buddy. Kafka: "..." *sobbing* "Idiot..." etta: ..... -elsewhere-