#is so done with the american gob

[jey-chan]

Danny, showing up mild meting like he owns the place bc is in space: So i lost a bet with CW and here i am... you! *points to Flash* have lost your time travel privilegies for 3 i told you so, and YOU! *points a constantine* are going to dismand the Anti-ecto laws and in etchange i give you your soul back but with the punishment of doing all the papework that need to be done becuase of fukin soul tax fraud.

And you! *points to the big 3* are going to firm herr, here, and here.

Flas: wtf‽

Constantine: the anti what now‽

Ww: whai does this lokes like international and interdimencional guardenship papers?

Danny: you have seen noting~ :")

[imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs]

MxN Week Day 6: Heaven & Earth

@senshixshitennouweeks this one's a touch spicy. Enjoy

His hands were hot against the skin of her stomach. Like lightning from God.

“Father,” she moans, “we… we can’t…”

“Can’t we?”

He buried his face in her hair and inhales and already, Lita feels herself succumbing.

How she got into this position?

Only God knew.

She’d first heard that they were getting a new priest in their parish, she’d paid it no mind. Another dusty old scarecrow of a man, here to cast a judgmental eye on anyone who didn’t spend half the day praying and the other half toiling while he quoted scripture.

Their last priest, Father Altman, had been particularly stern and nosy in regards to other peoples’ family business.

Rumor had it that finding out about one of the alter boys skipping church to go fishing had led to a rage-induced heart attack.

Which was how he was sent to the little town of Crossroads as the late Father Altman’s replacement.

Father Stanton. When he’d stopped her in the street, asking directions, she’d been gob smacked by this chiseled adonis.

He was… so different from what she knew of priests.

He was American, by all accounts, having served as a chamberlain for the Navy before being sent here to spread God’s word.

A broad, bear of a man, a head above her in height with his long thick hair bound behind him as he walked the length of the village, sometimes stopping by her own tavern and chatting up some of the regulars.

He’s particularly friendly with the town doctor, that dark-haired gent that Serena somehow managed to charm into marriage.

Marriage.

Something she’d often dreamed of, but always seemed to slip through her fingers. She was only human, after all. Was it a sin to desire human companionship?

Even when the companion she most desired was a man of the cloth?

He brought her back to the present, when one of his hands leave her stomach and cups one of her breasts.

“God be praised,” he whispered, “for making you so perfect.”

She’d caught what seemed to be him staring at her during one service too many. At first, Lita had brushed it off as being a coincidence, but Stanton’s eyes seemed drawn to her wherever she sat in the pews.

And his gaze had begun following her when he visited her tavern as well.

It wasn’t anything, she’d tell herself. How could a priest hold any romantic inclination towards anyone Earthly?

Things had only become worse when she had delivered some freshly baked bread to the church as an offering. As she was walking to meet him halfway down the aisle, she tripped on a loose tile and fell forward. She was preparing to meet the floor; she knew how to fall and pick herself up, she'd done it before.

Except he’d caught her.

Lita knew she was one of the tallest people in Crossroads. One of the strongest, too, if her consistent winning of town sporting events was anything to go on.

And yet, this man caught and set her back onto her feet as if she weighed no more than a basket of eggs.

And he was just as careful with her.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Shame made itself comfortable between her lungs and stomach and stayed there as she studied his features up close.

Deep brown eyes, boring into her own green, a hint of stubble that she wonders how it would feel under her fingers, and the definition of muscle beneath his habit.

Pushing away from him, she ran from the church, cheeks blazing and didn't see him again until the next night, when he sat in her tavern, his gaze following her as she worked the bar.

In spite of the tension from having him there, she couldn’t bring himself to make him leave. She’d chased her fair share of unwanted patrons out but…

This was different.

He was the last to leave and as she cleans the table of the meagre meal that he’d ordered for himself that she finds the note under his plate.

We must speak tonight. Come to the church at nine o’clock.

She should ignore the message. Cut him out of her life and ignore his piercing gazes during the next Sunday service.

She arrived at the church to find him kneeling before the alter in prayer.

“Why did you run?”

His voice echoed off the pews and walls and Lita felt acutely aware of how… isolated the two of them were. No witnesses. None save the almighty.

“What?”

He rose from his position and turned to face her, the candlelight casting his features in stark relief with the shadows.

“Why did you run?” he repeated, “the night before. When I caught you?”

Father Stanton covered the space between them with those massive strides of his that she knew could keep pace with her own. Lita swallowed a lump in her throat, not sure why.

“Did I do something to offend you?” he asked.

Yes, you made me lust after you was what she wanted to say. She wanted to tell him to stop making her think about a man of the cloth like this and let her go back to her own little life again.

Her life before he came.

“You didn’t do anything,” she said at last.

“Then why did you run?”

“Because… I felt guilty…”

“Guilty of what?”

He was too close. Within an arm’s reach. She shouldn’t be thinking about what it would be like if he took her into his arms.

She turned away.

“Whatever you say to me will remain between us.”

And God, she thinks. God knows them better than they know themselves. She musters her courage and hopes that her acknowledgement does not lead to something else.

“I… had impure thoughts.”

His pause was almost too much to bear. Finally, he spoke.

“Thoughts of what?”

He sounded even closer now and she prayed for integrity.

“Me?”

Her silence answers for her.

“Do you know why I was sent here?”

Honestly, she had never given it much thought. She had assumed he had been sent because their priest was dead and needed a replacement.

“Because the last bishop I served under was convinced I had broken my vows.”

Broken vows? No-one had ever mentioned that before. What had he done to warrant his former bishop’s ire?

“Did you?” Lita asked.

Another long pause.

“I wanted to… but I didn’t”

“Why not?”

“Because I felt it wasn’t worth it.”

The air felt electric. It was somehow both sweltering and too cold to stand, not when Father Stanton was so close to her. She needed to get out of her. Back to the safety of her home.

Only, did she really want to? He had admitted his own weakness when he was supposed to be above such things.

“Can a man be Godly,” Father Stanton asked, “even when the temptations of earth beckon?”

“What temptations?” she asked, her heart thundered in her chest.

“A woman,” he said, “as beautiful as a winter rose.”

She wants to ask him what he means, to give voice to the questions that are just rewordings of a single query.

But it’s too late. His arms tenderly encircle her waist and his lips press against her neck.

Thoughts of God were soon gone, replaced with other less heavenly thoughts.

Yes. Touch me. Caress me. It's been too long.

And as she returned the kisses of the Father, melted at the nearly bruising passion of his touch, Lita wondered if he could deliver her to rapture this very night.

Was this wrong?

Those were concerns for later, she thought as his hands dipped between her legs.

[beepiesheepie]

Pizza toppings the mercs like the most

Scout: enjoys a plain cheese or pepperoni. If you put vegetables on the pizza he will complain about it like he's 5 until someone says he's a bitch for not liking spinach. Then he's wolfing down a spinach pizza.

Soldier: its not a real pizza if it doesn't have 5 different meats on it. Also will say he's saving money by putting his canned 1940 beef and corn as a topping instead of paying for the pizza man to do that. Pizzas that have been through him will look brazillian when hes done. No one tells Soldier about pizza night anymore.

Pyro: hot sauce, all the way. Jalapeños and Buffalo chicken and habaneros and ghost peppers if the rest of the team is OK with it. If left alone with a pizza it will look Brazilian by the end.

Demo: Not a big pizza fan outside of parties or depressive episodes. Enjoys a plain cheese. Also green peppers and veggies on his pizza. Says the way Americans make their pizza is way too fucking greasy.

Heavy: Also not a pizza fan, upsets his stomach. Will carry boxes though. Enjoys a plain cheese but when possible he will indulge on a meat lovers

Sniper: with Engie and Pyro eating the spicy pizzas. Meat lovers fan. Will eat Soldier's Brazilian-ass pizza. Also a fan of everything pizzas where there's all the toppings.

Engineer: he's with Pyro eating ghost pepper and spicy pizzas. Huge meat lovers fan. Bacon bits on the pizza all the way.

Medic: pizza upsets his stomach too so he's with heavy not eating it. Will eat a plain cheese or sausage pizza slice. Enjoys spinach on his pizza so he will call Scout a little bitch

Spy: thinks pizza is disgusting and beneath him. Enjoys those fancy rich people flatbreads that have tomato slices and gobs of mozzarella though. If you tell him that's a pizza he will get mad.

[deviantartdramahub]

All about DeviantART drama! (tumblr.com)

All about DeviantART drama! (tumblr.com)

All about DeviantART drama! (tumblr.com)

All about DeviantART drama! (tumblr.com)

All about DeviantART drama! (tumblr.com)

All about DeviantART drama! (tumblr.com)

All about DeviantART drama! (tumblr.com)

These are just some of the pathetic attempts of them trying to blind you from seeing the truth we speak. They FAILED! Just like every other time they open their fat gobs. They suck at fighting, and they suck at proven a point. They got caught, and they know it. Take the L losers, you're done, we've already won you just don't know it!

I don't mean to use a cliché insult towards them, but every single word they say here is something that would be applicable as they look in the mirror (possibly while reciting this story which I still have to sit down for).

As for the court tapes, they're online and in the public domain. Do not be fooled by Eve Soderlund's "they're not on TV so they must be fake", you just need a proxy to view them because it's a local website. It's not like a random American court case is going to be on TV in the Philippines.

[actionhoney97]

15 Weird Hobbies That'll Make You Better at Online Sweet Shops

I love playing with my sweet. It's enjoyable to see sweet firms recognize that part of the experience. I located this little bag of Crazy Candy Co Candy Laces at Aldi. They have a couple of sugar-based sweets from this Crazy Candy Carbon monoxide on the shelves, like gummi bears as well as sour neon worms. Aldi offers Haribo, this Crazy Candy Carbon monoxide is one of their home brand names. The Candy Laces are like fruity licorice; they're made from wheat and also can be found in four flavors: Strawberry, Apple Peach, Raspberry, Peach. The bundle says they utilize no fabricated tastes or colors. The package is charming as well as welcoming and also would absolutely interest juveniles. The rate is quite great at 79 cents for 3 ounces - it's not a great deal of candy or a whole lot of cash for a little reward. The laces are regarding 18-20 inches long each. Though order pick n mix -natural coloring, they're vibrant as well as bright. The laces are versatile and soft, yet still solid enough to take a little pulling as well as pulling. I located it easy to twist and also entwine the laces together. The light orange laces are Apple-Peach. Initially, I was a little stunned that this was a taste. It appeared odd to have 2 peach flavors in one plan that only had four tastes to start with. The laces are gently transparent and also well made. Not bumps, tacky or milky spots. The peach and also apple tastes are authentic. It's like a gently wonderful glass of juice. The structure of the chew is a little sticky however considering that the cables are so thin to start with, it's not such as large gobs can get stuck in my teeth. The yellow shoelaces are Peach which is far more of a vibrant flavor than the apple mix version. The shade is brilliant and also the laces occasionally resemble a lot of curry ramen to me. The peach taste is a little tart as well as has a little want note to it, like peach skins. It's not overwhelming or artificial, though still not quite authentic. The maroon shoelaces are Raspberry. I was expecting something jammy and truly intense. Rather it's just a little sharp, slightly floral and also mildly berry-flavored. Something that I saw about the Raspberry laces is that they're somewhat smaller sized in diameter from the various other flavors. Still the very same structure. The dark pink laces are Strawberry. Strawberry is a typical flavor for red licorice, so I went right into this with a great deal of experience with red shoelaces. My very first impact: nicely done. The taste is sharp and good mix of flower, berry and appetizing notes. The eat is company, like an al dente pasta as well as it's not as leathery or doughy as a few other American as well as Australian variations. I found that they maintained fresh even without securing the bag up inside a zippered plastic bag like I perform with much of my opened up sweets. After regarding a week they obtained a little firmer, however never ever tacky or completely dry. The bundle is perfectly created as well as the candy itself is well made. I don't care directly for the taste mix much, however I understand that children would probably be drawn to the bright colors and mainstream flavors. I located this little bag of Crazy Candy Carbon Monoxide Candy Laces at Aldi. They have a few sugar-based candies from this Crazy Candy Carbon monoxide on the racks, like gummi bears as well as sour neon worms. Aldi sells Haribo, this Crazy Candy Co is one of their residence brand names. The Candy Laces are like fruity licorice; they're made from wheat and come in 4 tastes: Strawberry, Apple Peach, Raspberry, Peach. The price is pretty excellent at 79 cents for three ounces - it's not a whole lot of sweet or a lot of money for a little reward.

[oceanunit32]

10 Meetups About Online Sweet Shops You Should Attend

I love having fun with my candy. It's enjoyable to see candy business acknowledge that component of the experience. I located this tiny bag of Crazy Candy Co Candy Laces at Aldi. They have a couple of sugar-based candies from this Crazy Candy Co on the shelves, like gummi bears and sour neon worms. Aldi offers Haribo, this Crazy Candy Co is one of their residence brands. The Candy Laces resemble fruity licorice; they're made from wheat and come in four tastes: Strawberry, Apple Peach, Raspberry, Peach. The package says they utilize no fabricated tastes or colors. The plan is cute and also inviting and also would definitely attract juveniles. The rate is quite good at 79 cents for three ounces - it's not a great deal of candy or a lot of cash for a little treat. The shoelaces are about 18-20 inches long each. It's natural coloring, they're strong and also bright. The shoelaces are soft and flexible, yet still strong enough to take a little tugging and also pulling. They have a light beeswax finishing on them to keep them from drying as well as sticking out, however it's not oily or sticky. order pick n mix discovered it simple to turn and also entwine the laces with each other. Let's encounter it, among the factors I purchased them was because I believed they 'd be enjoyable to play with and also photo. The light orange laces are Apple-Peach. I was a little stunned that this was a flavor. It seemed weird to have two peach tastes in one bundle that just had 4 flavors to begin with. The shoelaces are gently clear as well as well made. Not bumps, chalky or gaudy spots. The peach and also apple flavors are genuine. It's like a lightly wonderful glass of juice. The structure of the eat is a little sticky however because the cords are so thin to start with, it's not such as big gobs can get stuck in my teeth. The yellow laces are Peach which is far more of a vibrant flavor than the apple mix variation. The color is brilliant and also the laces occasionally appear like a load of curry ramen to me. The peach flavor is a little sharp as well as has a little ache note to it, like peach skins. It's not overwhelming or man-made, though still not quite genuine. The maroon shoelaces are Raspberry. I was expecting something jammy and truly intense. Rather it's just a little tart, vaguely floral as well as gently berry-flavored. One point that I discovered about the Raspberry shoelaces is that they're slightly smaller in diameter from the other flavors. Still the same texture though. The dark pink laces are Strawberry. Strawberry is a common flavor for red licorice, so I entered into this with a whole lot of experience with red laces. My impression: nicely done. The taste is good and tart mix of floral, berry and also tangy notes. The chew is company, like an al dente pasta as well as it's not as leathery or doughy as some various other American and Australian versions. I discovered that they maintained fresh also without securing the bag up inside a zippered plastic bag like I perform with much of my opened up candies. After concerning a week they obtained a little firmer, however completely dry or never gaudy. The package is perfectly designed as well as the sweet itself is well made. I do not care directly for the flavor mix a lot, but I recognize that kids would possibly be attracted to the intense colors and mainstream tastes. (They may be dissatisfied that the apple isn't extra like the Jolly Rancher Green Apple.) These would certainly be wonderful for embellishing as well. I discovered this tiny bag of Crazy Candy Co Candy Laces at Aldi. They have a couple of sugar-based candies from this Crazy Candy Carbon monoxide on the racks, like gummi bears and sour neon worms. Aldi offers Haribo, this Crazy Candy Co is one of their house brands. The Candy Laces are like fruity licorice; they're made from wheat and also come in four flavors: Strawberry, Apple Peach, Raspberry, Peach. The cost is quite excellent at 79 cents for three ounces - it's not a whole lot of sweet or a lot of cash for a little reward.

[acerace]

...you have opened my eyes to a vast universe of VintageBeef lore that I was unaware of. I knew about the New Hermit Order, of course, and the UHC invention, and I've watched a few of his CTM things but -- I will take all the info and lore you feel like giving out because Beef is amazing and my knowledge is so small.

Vintagebeef my beloved <3

So the thing is, right, until about 2016 I only watched two (2) youtubers- Vintagebeef for Minecraft and aDrive for Pokemon (and funnily enough both of them are named Dan irl). So I've watched most of Beef's videos over the years and have a general knowledge of most of his stuff, except because it's been like a decade I don't remember where most of the lore comes from XD

The thing with him is that he doesn't do Lore tm the way other mcyters often do lore- he doesn't have an extensive RP series to draw from like Grian, doesn't have a solo world with steadily increasing amounts of lore like Etho or Zisteau, and while he's played on SMPs and been involved in storylines before it's not really the focus of his episodes unlike with Evo or Legacy or Empires

So where does that leave us?

IRL, Beef always has multiple series running at the same time. Often he's playing on an smp while doing a singleplayer, often modded, series as well as a CTM or modpack with a group of friends. For example, right now he's playing on Hermitcraft, doing weekly Pixelmon and Building a Zoo episodes, and a CTM map with Slip. And to me, this translates to one thing: Beef is an adventurer. He travels frequently- he explores a world and when he decides he's done, he leaves for the next one. That's the basis of my personal interpretation of his series and his character for my writing.

Ok so reading this back, this got extremely long and didn't explain much in the way of lore, somehow? If anyone has any additions to add please do so, I am very definitely leaving out a lot and would love to see what other lore people remember and are using for Beef! I didn’t include the Hermitcraft stuff since my memory of season 4 is blurry (his base was themed after the Martian, that much I know, and he and Iskall were buddies :D) and most of the s5 NHO lore is best watched from Bdub’s perspective from what I remember, and the only s6 stuff is a single line in Hermitgang and then the Area 77 arc with its possibility of an NHO reunion which we did not get rip. And s7 of course had the cloning machine and also the Podzol Party as the main lore. So all the original rambling is still below the cut though it is very long, and I'm gonna bullet point the main stuff here instead:

Actual canonical things:

Invented UHC and was the only survivor of the first ever uhc (Mindcrack UHC s1)

Married to an ender dragon (one of the UHCs I think), later father to a different dragon (Mindcrack season 3? I think?)

Might not have legs if you choose to take that joke as canon (Mindcrack s2)

Was a wizard (RAD)

is a zookeeper (Building a Zoo) 

Had a wife and kids (Sims in Minecraft)

Part of the Trial of the B Team court case (Mindcrack)

NHO founder, founder of the Podzol Party (Hermitcraft)

Created a cloning machine that sort of works (Hermitcraft)

Played the Forest which is I believe the first time he and Keralis played together (look up the trigger warnings for this one, it's a horror game)

Was the creator/owner of Sourceblock SMP (featuring some familiar faces if you know Legacy, Empires, or MCC) and there is literal magic from a mysterious sourceblock of water that teleports people and summons mobs and probably more stuff that I haven't seen yet since I'm still watching it myself

Things you can infer:

Good with animals (Life in the Woods, Pixelmon, Ark)

Is a car nerd (irl and all of the car games he's played)

Is a highly experienced adventurer who has traveled through dozens of worlds both vanilla and modded, across multiple dimensions (Twilight Forest, the Aether, the Betweenlands, Limbo), completed dozens of monuments, fought in blood sports, survived apocalypse after apocalypse, tamed dinosaurs, and played a lot of prop hunt and golf with your friends

If you're looking for what to watch for lore purposes, I'd say the Mindcrack UHCs and Team Canada's RAD series are pretty good, definitely Sourceblock and HC s5, plus the Diversity CTM maps and Ruins of the Mindcrackers maybe? And Mindcrack Prank Wars for the chaos and the origin of Team Canada. And if you can handle horror than the Forest is fun and if you don't do horror you can watch the Pojkband play golf or prop hunt they're hilarious I love them sm I want a Pojkband reunion So Bad 

Beef's first series was a singleplayer series in beta 1.4_01 though he had played the game extensively before that, and was a big fan of Guude, having watched his own Minecraft videos. The series was functionally a hardcore one where if he died Beef would delete the world and start again! I haven't actually Watched this series so idk if he died or how often lmao. When Guude made Mindcrack, which was btw one of the very first Minecraft SMPs, he also hosted a competition for people to join, and Beef submitted a video (which is still viewable on his channel I believe!) and won, and was added to Mindcrack in season 2 :D (fun fact, Guude said that even if Beef hadn’t won he would have added him anyway) 

Two running jokes emerged from Mindcrack- pulling a Vintagebeef and Beef doesn't have legs. The first is a reference to Beef dying of fall damage (I believe the exact instance was him trying to jump into his swimming pool and failing spectacularly) and after the incident, every time someone died of fall damage they were pulling a Vintagebeef. The second joke comes from Guude, who joked that the reason Beef wasn't going to a convention was because he didn't have legs, and then he pranked Beef's base by building a giant pair of legs at the entrance to his castle so you had to walk between them to get into the base. This joke has long since died and both Beef and Guude feel pretty bad about it iirc because there were people who genuinely thought Beef was disabled and were emailing him supportive messages and stuff oops. So if you go looking on the Salad or find old Mindcrack fics, you might see references to Beef having prosthetic legs!

Mindcrack also brought about the creation of several Player groups- Team Nancy Drew, Team Canada, and GOB to name a few relevant to Beef. Team Nancy Drew consists of Beef, Pauseunpause, Guude, and Baj, who formed to investigate a prank on one of the members but I forget who. They're named Nancy Drew after the detective! Team Canada also formed in retaliation to pranks, with it consisting of Beef, Etho, and Pause, the three Canadian members on the server (not including Adlington who moved to Canada but never joined the group). There was also a Team America who pranked them with American flags everywhere. GOB is Guude, OMGChad, and Beef, who played stuff like the Ragecraft, Pantheon, and Monstrosity ctms together but that's way down the line lol

Team Nancy Drew is also notable for inventing UHC. It was Beef's brainchild but it was the four of them who first played it! The first UHC had the four of them working to kill the dragon with no natural regen, with everyone dying but Beef, who "won" the UHC. The second uhc was still dragon focused and iirc is where Beef married the dragon? Memories are hazy but they do kill the dragon in this one I think. UHC was then revamped as a pvp event and became a regular Mindcrack game every few months, featuring most of the Mindcrackers and several special guests, including Dinnerbone, who as we know Thanos-snapped Doc's arm out of existence as a result of Doc killing him in one of them

In one of the seasons of Mindcrack, Beef invited swedish Mindcracker and good friend Anderzel to go caving with him and invented ABBA Rules caving, where the winner takes it all. ABBA Rules is a game where each ore (and also dungeon loot like nametags) is assigned a point value and the person with the most points at the end wins and gets to keep all the stuff collected from the game.

In Mindcrack season 3?, Beef punched the ender dragon in an... awkward area, so when the dragon died and left the egg behind, Guude said Beef was the father of the egg XD I don't remember if I watched s3 so I have no idea if anything Happened with this concept but *history of the world voice* you could make lore out of this!

So Team Canada has played a Lot of CTM maps (which fun fact were pretty much invented by another Mindcrack member, Vechs, with his Super Hostile series! Super Hostile has a bunch of things called "Zistonian", which are references to another Mindcrack member Zisteau, who has a very wild singleplayer series with even wilder lore but I digress). In Ruins of the Mindcrackers, they had a running joke that Beef was Etho and Pause's mom, which is a joke we can leave in the past actually /lh. They also played all the Diversity maps, Sky Factory, Terra Restore, Uncharted Territory uhhh and a couple more ctms and adventure maps! Each map kinda has its own story so in Diversity 3 for example they were trapped in a simulation? I think? Team Canada also recently played the Roguelike Adventures and Dungeons modpack, aka RAD, in which Beef was a wizard with a magic staff that could do anything from summon lightning to control hostile mobs.

Sourceblock SMP is a vanilla survival 1.14 series that ran for one season and the series starts with each of the Players being drawn to a strange sparkling water source that, once they touch it, brings them to the Sourceblock world. It also summons a giant zombie at one point. There's probably more lore for this series but like I said I haven't watched it all the way through yet 

He has a Patreon server called VintageCraft and has done a series or two on there as well, and played a few UHCs with them, so lore that how you will! 

Beef also played a few popular mods, notably Pixelmon, Life in the Woods, and Feed the Beast, with LitW being singleplayer and the other multiplayer. He's also recently played the Zoo and Wild Animals mod a lot. He did a short series with the Minecraft Comes Alive mod where he married one of the villagers and had two children, so that's canon now :D he’s played a Lot of Pixelmon starting when the mod first came out iirc (he chose Turtwig in his first series and built a Grass gym, then made a Normal gym in another series in uhh 2016) and he still plays to this day. Quite a few Hermits played on his Pixelmon servers with him, like Wels, Etho, Iskall, Stress, Slip, Zueljin, and also Guude and Phedran (a Mindcrack adjacent player and creator of the LitW modpack) and a few Mindcrackers on the older servers 

Mindcrack and friends played a lot of other games too- 7 Days to Die, Ark Survival Evolved, Unturned, to name a few, so you can pull a lot of lore out of these as well. Speaking of friends and non-Minecraft games, Beef teamed up with Pause, Keralis, and Slip (a former Hermit) to play the horror game the Forest, which saw them stuck on an island trying to survive against terrifying mutated human... things. They played it a few times as the game updated but as afaik it's the first time Beef played with Keralis and possibly Slip and since the game starts with the Player's airplane crashing, that could totally be how Beef first met them in-universe 

I... think? that’s everything I mentioned in the tags? There is probably way more stuff I’ve forgotten that stems from inside jokes and things that happen within each series, but I hope that was a) helpful and b) at least somewhat comprehensible lmao 

[bsaka7]

no anon huh? guess Im gonna have to say this with my full chest. there is not enough spit/cum swapping in the maxiel works. if you’re interested for kinktober 👀

- ricstappen

I'M SORRY i did not know i turned off anon 😔😔😔 i will have to investigate this. anyway THANK YOU and i think you are RIGHT on this (ao3 maxiel gaps in the literature!!) however all i ever think of with cum swapping is that scene from succession where tom is like "i swallowed my own cum" and everyone is like. ok tom. anyway i am NOT sure that i could write a whole fic of this BUT heres basically all my thoughts on max and daniel and this kink in mini-fic form under the cut

One.

Daniel doesn’t think it’s something he’s into. Daniel doesn’t realize it’s something he’s into, really, until he’s straddling Max on the couch. The TV is playing something repetitive in the background, one of those grimy American crime shows, maybe. It’s all background noise now, because Daniel’s perched atop Max’s thighs, stronger than they have any right to be for someone self-proclaims disliking running.

They’d just been making out and Daniel sits back, pulls back from Max to look down at him, flushed all the way down, his t-shirt rucked halfway up his chest. He looks down at Max, Max’s mouth half-open, and he thinks to himself, I could spit and make it into Max’s mouth, and then he leans down and kisses Max again, hot and languid.

When he sits up again, Max’s mouth is wet and a little swollen, and Max lets out a little whine, bucks up into Daniel. Daniel runs his tongue around his own gums and before he can think too hard about it, he spits, and it lands in a gob on the corner of Max’s mouth. Max instantly flushes even more, turns his face away from Daniel, bucks his hips up into Daniel’s and Daniel is like okay. Okay. He knows Max wouldn’t ask, that Max couldn’t ask, and he files it away somewhere in the private spot of his brain where the thoughts about how he feels about Max, about how it feels to see Max spread out under him like this, live, and then he jerks Max off on the couch and that’s that.

Two.

Daniel thinks – now that he knows Max is into the spitting thing – he thinks a lot of stuff that he doesn’t think Max would talk about, and he thinks a lot of really dirty thoughts about Max, about his mouth, about how red Max flushed. They’ve done other stuff, obviously, stuff that Daniel really likes and that he knows Max really likes, but he thinks about it.

He’s sucking Max’s dick, in another hotel room, Max sitting on the bed, Daniel kneeling on a pillow, because Max won, and Daniel wants – he wants this to be good for Max, and maybe he wants it to be normal, so that Max thinks – Daniel can give him what he wants, Daniel can make him feel good in normal ways too, it doesn’t all have to be so messy.

Max is heavy on Daniel’s tongue, and Daniel doesn’t really like deepthroating, so he doesn’t, and he works his hand at the base of Max’s dick. He looks up at Max above him, his chest flushed red and soft and strong, and Max is looking down at him, one hand on Daniel’s shoulder, resting there. Daniel feels like it’s an accomplishment just to have Max touch him, while they’re doing this, like it’s something Max wants. Max looks away after a moment, and Daniel closes his eyes again and flattens his tongue, and twists his wrist, and then Max is coming, his abs tight, jerking up just a little into Daniel’s mouth, Daniel’s hands on his hips.

Daniel doesn’t swallow but he doesn’t spit either, just holds Max’s come there, in his mouth. He stands up, in-between Max’s legs, tries to memorize the way Max is looking up at him. Daniel thinks he probably looks something like he’s making a fish face. Daniel thumbs at Max’s lower jaw, and Max opens his mouth, easy and loose, like he trusts Daniel with this and everything.

Daniel looks down, and he spits, to the best of his ability. Max closes his mouth instinctively but then Daniel taps at his jaw again, firm, and Max opens immediately, doesn’t try to swallow. Daniel spits the rest into Max’s mouth, and then swallows what’s left.

“Swallow,” Daniel says, and Max does. Daniel wishes he could see the bob of Max’s throat from this angle. Daniel doesn’t know what to think of the power he has over Max. He doesn’t want to think about what it means that his chest swells when he leans down to kiss Max, and it’s easy. Max licks at his mouth like he wants more, moans into Daniel’s mouth when he can taste himself, and Daniel wants to hold the moment in the palm of his hand forever.

Three.

The next time – Daniel thinks he can do it the other way around. Max, he’s a little belligerent until they get into it, until he’s on his knees for Daniel. Max sucks dick with eagerness, even if he keeps his eyes closed most of the time. He’s gotten a lot better at it, in the time they’ve spent together, a quick learner at the worst of times.

“Remember,” Daniel says, guiding Max’s head off his dick, marveling at the way that Max’s lips are wet, a little swollen. “Don’t swallow.” He says it half to remind Max, half to give himself time to recover, not to come. It’s not going to help much, either way.

Max rolls his eyes, but he nods, says okay, and Daniel guides him as gently as he thinks Max will tolerate back onto his dick, takes him back so that Daniel’s cockhead is nestled at the soft part at the back of his throat, and he tugs on Daniel’s balls with one hand. Daniel doesn’t even try to hold back the moan, and then Max does it again, and Daniel is coming. He does his best to keep his eyes open, to look down, to watch as Max fights his own throat.

He pulls his dick out of Max’s mouth, slowly, and it’s wet and messy with Max’s saliva and his own come. “Hold it,” Daniel says, one hand still on the back of Max’s head. Max looks up at him, his mouth determinedly held closed but full, drooling a little onto the floor.

“Open,” Daniel says, and the way Max immediately obeys, even if he rolls his eyes. Daniel’s come drips out of his mouth, down his chin, and Max doesn’t even try to wipe it away, and it makes something rush up into Daniel’s chest. Max is doing this because he likes it, yes, but also because Daniel wants it, because Daniel is asking him to. He likes that Max needs him to give him this, and he loves the way Max looks at him, the trust in him that Max must have to let him do this.

Daniel kneels down on the floor in front of Max and thumbs across the mess on his chin, and Max just lets him. Daniel leans in to kiss him, pulls him in with the hand in his hair, and he doesn’t love the taste, but Max moans and melts into Daniel, pushes some of his come back into Daniel’s mouth with his tongue. When Daniel shoves his hand into Max’s pants to jerk him off, Max comes after only a couple of strokes, hot and wet and messy. Daniel’s knees ache from the hard floor, and he pulls Max into him, and he thinks something so dirty shouldn’t also feel this tender, this fragile.

[therealvinelle]

“By contrast, I can think of characters who resemble most other Twilight characters with a relative amount of ease.”

You put this at the end of an ask and was just wondering if you would please elaborate? Have a lovely day

(Anon is referring to this post.) Do you ever look at two characters, realize they have a few things in common, then blink, take a step back, and realize that they really do have an awful lot in common? That they're more or less the same person, only in different circumstances? The same archetype, at the very least.

I'm open to the possibility that you'll say no, @thecarnivorousmuffinmeta and I are strange people who see strange things.

All the same, here are a few examples.

Also, this contains spoilers for the animes Fate/Zero, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, and Revolutionary Girl Utena, as well as the play Vildanden, the book Candide, and the show I, Claudius.

Aro: Kiritsugu Emiya from Fate/Zero.

Kiritsugu is a highly effective assassin whose defining trait, and curse, is his willingness to commit any atrocity in the name of the greater good. His ambition is to save the world. Over the course of the series he sacrifices his father, surrogate mother, best friend, wife, and daughter, and treats everybody else like chess pieces. It will all be worth it when he has saved the world.

He is the opposite of Bella, who would let anything burn for the sake of her loved ones. Kiritsugu loves fiercely, but he will sacrifice that which is most precious to him with a steady hand.

Aro has that same ruthlessness combined with idealism. He sacrifices his sister and is willing to kill his only friend as well, to say nothing of the many other things he has done. He creates child vampires and will kill anyone who stands in his way. This is what he must do to gain and maintain power.

Aro and Kiritsugu will sacrifice anything and anybody if they perceive it to be beneficial to their goal, a goal they happen to share.

Also Aro: Claudius from I, Claudius.

Cladius is the emperor of Rome not because he wishes to be, but because the moment he steps off the throne, Rome will fall to pieces.

Aro did seek out the throne, Claudius very much did not. However, both are in the precarious situation where they can never leave their respective thrones. Rome would fall to pieces without Claudius, and the world would burn without Aro.

Also Aro: Voldemort in an AU where he won.

We're deep in la la AU land now.

But, Aro had to commit atrocities to get to the throne, we only meet him millennia later when his rule is secure. A post-victory Voldemort (and I here mean years and years and years have passed) would be a figure quite similar to Aro. A harsh, uncompromising leader, yet he’s been around for long enough to shape the world into what he wants it to be, people don’t remember that it was once different, and he is regarded as the distant, yet necessary leader.

Bella: Hedda Gabler from Vildanden.

Hedda finds out she's a child born of infidelity, and that her father no longer loves her. Wanting to win back his love she kills herself. Bella, too, has that utter lack of self-love, that willingness to sacrifice herself, and it’s all too easy for her to believe Edward never loved her. Both Hedda and Bella fail to understand there are people who love and would miss them

Also Bella: Homura Akemi from Puella Magi Madoka Magica.

This is not an obvious one.

But they both have that uncompromising drive to do anything and everything for the one they love, and by love I mean the one they fixate everything they are or have ever been upon. Homura, over the course of P3M, goes from wanting to use time travel to save everybody, to being content with saving only Madoka. She will destroy herself for Madoka in a very literal sense, seeing no worth at all in her own survival.

Give Bella a time machine and a timeloop where Edward always dies at the end, and she will go down Homura’s path.

Caius: Every warrior king ever. Ooh and he and Iskandar (again from Fate/Zero) have very similar vibes, although they're far from the same character.

Iskandar believes that kingship and leadership is not about being noble or virtuous or showing a good example to your people, it's about strength, conquest, and glorious victory.

Caius, I imagine, would heartily agree with that.

Carlisle: I love Carlisle, but there are Carlisles everywhere, especially in anime. Utena Tenjou from Revolutionary Girl Utena comes to mind in particular, though.

Utena begins her story as a righteous and brave girl who wants to be a prince. She wants this without quite understanding what it truly means to be noble, nor does she know what it means to save a person.

Her desire to save Anthy is especially this. Anthy is a traditional damsel in distress at the beginning of the story, and Utena is so eager to save her that she never takes what Anthy herself into account. She judges herself harshly for this failure, but comes to understand what it truly means to save Anthy in the end.

Carlisle has that same nobility and willingness to do good, he is the moral compass of those around him, but all the same he is hoodwinked and does not always know where best to thread. His rescue of Rosalie is a good example of this, he saw a young woman who’d been raped to death, and did the only thing he could to help her, only to learn this wasn’t what she wanted.

Also Carlisle: god, so many characters.

Shirou from Now and Then, Here and There. Suffers a ridiculous amount, but never loses his goodness and insists even in the most extreme circumstances upon the inalienable worth of human life.

Duck from Princess Tutu. Never uses violence or even powers to win against her opponents. She talks to them, finds out why they're unhappy, and wins through healing them. They become friends with her after.

Akane Tsunemori from Psycho-Pass. In a world where people’s souls can be calculated mathematically, Akane Tsunemori is objectively a good person, empirically proven to be incorruptible. That’s her defining trait, no matter what she endures she never loses her upstanding morals. The kind of person who wouldn’t succumb to the lure of human blood.

Just gonna drop the fact that Carlisle’s hair and eyes are the same color, Edward with his vampire sight notes that they’re only one shade apart. The guy is a misplaced anime character.

Oh, and Candide from Voltaire’s Candide. This is just a loose association, but “beautiful blond man travels the world, meets people who are over the top cartoonishly miserable (just... multiply Meyer’s backstories with each other and add 10. Victoria’s life + Rosalie’s life + Esme’s life + their mother is pushed off a cliff by dalmatians) but he carries on with a big smile, and eventually settles down with his found family of hilariously wretched people” gives me Carlisle vibes.

Edward: He's so many people and in so many different ways, oh my god.

He's a mommy's boy who cries because I'M A MONSTER - Buster Bluth. Arrested Development.

He thinks too highly of himself - Gilderoy Lockhart from Harry Potter.

He GOBs - George Oscar "GOB" Bluth. Again Arrested Development.

He appears normal to the outside world, yet there's a complete meltdown with incoherent rants, strong opinions about music, and strong disturbing tendencies towards violence he may or may not act on - Patrick Bateman from American Psycho.

He's weird about women, mother figures, himself, and violent. Creepy yet undeniably charming - Norman Bates from Psycho.

The way he regards Bella - strong Humbert Humbert from Lolia vibes. Replace "nymphet" with "singer" and there you go.

Really, though, with Edward, he is like these yet unlike them all. He’s... he’s a lot.

Emmett: Much like how Caius is a warrior king, Emmett is Frat Bro™.

Jasper: Clint Eastwood for reasons outlined in this post.

Marcus: Arwen after Aragorn inevitably dies.

A sad sad elf who's fading away.

Rosalie: Cordelia Chase from Buffy

Speaks her mind, no matter how brutal it is or how little people want to hear it. She does not forgive those who wrong her, she is proud, and most importantly, she is misjudged. Her beautiful appearance and bitchy veneer make her easy to dismiss, but once the going gets tough she is a deeply good person. She’ll make bitchy comments about watching your back, but watch it she does.

-

I also do this with ships. Aro/Carlisle are a great match for Dorian Gray and Lord Henry, if Lord Henry had failed to corrupt Dorian Gray and been delighted by that fact.

I have other examples, but they go weird places so let’s not.

TL;DR: I'm Miss Marple.

[horsesarecreatures]

Book review - A Beautiful, Cruel Country by Eva Antonia Wilbur-Cruce

So this is one of my favorite books of all time, and it’s not the first time I’ve read it. I believe that it is one that most people who follow this blog would thoroughly enjoy, especially if they are into horses, ranching, or vaquero traditions. It is a memoir that takes place on the author’s family homestead in Arizona and details her “rawhide tough and lonely life” from when she was 3-5 years old. The book ends when she was five because that was when the removal of the  Tohono O'odham Indians to a reservation occurred, and Eva describes the event as the end of the traditional frontier way of life as she knew it. The culture described in the book is very unique, as Eva’s mother was Mexican and her father was an American descended from conquistadors. Indians  frequented and lived on the ranch, and some were family. Eva’s parents were not religious unlike many other people in the area. As a child that young, she not only helped around the ranch but helped run it, participating in brandings, castrations, horse breaking, doctoring, and roundups while holding her own. She was mature for her age, but often placed in perilous situations by her father, although he did believe in her and she took control of the ranch over her brothers and sisters when he died in a horse-riding accident. 

As a quick note, the horses in this book are the Wilbur-Cruce Mission Horses, the purest strain of Spanish Barbs. They owe their existence today to Eva as she donated part of the ranch (now called Rancho Del Sueño) and the remaining herd to the nature conservancy, which was then sold to the government, and the Livestock Conservancy now manages the horses. 

The prose and imagery in the book are vivid and beautiful, and I think the book’s essence will be better captured if I just include a few random passages, so here are some:

“Grandmother’s departure was one more reminder that we were being left in a great space in a harsh land, now emptier than ever before of the Indian humanity that had peopled it for so long. There was a lonely, long winter ahead of us, and our whole ranchito began to seem more and more like an empty house. All that winter, we would find ourselves standing, looking up at the slopes of the neighboring hills, seeing Indians where there were none. As they had used to stand, staring westward towards the Boboquivari, home of their god I’itoi, now we stood, looking in the same direction for them.

The flow of news we were so accustomed to suddenly stopped, as if it’s very source had dried, instead of its conduits, now lost to us….We were alone with the animals. By late night after the exodus, the wind had died, and a heavy snow had begun to fall, so that the following morning the strangeness intensified, as we woke up to a weird, lonely, white world.”

…

“Dormadita was one of our good milk cows, and Father had been looking for her since the beginning of spring. I soon heard the calf bawling and knew that father had roped him. I built the fire, setting the branding irons around it, then I stood on a rock and reached into the saddle bag for a bottle of black-walnut liquid. Whenever we ran out of creosote, we substituted the black extract of the walnut shells. It was slower than creosote in killing worms, but it finally brought them out where they would slowly die.

Father flanked the calf and tied it, and from there on, he and I worked as a team. He sharpened the knife while I cleaned the maggots out of the calf’s wound. Gobs of them came out, and when the wound finally appeared to be clean, I poked it full of horse manure to suffocate whatever worms may have been left.

‘A good job, Eva, I couldn’t have done it better myself.’

I got a rag out of the saddlebag so I could hold the irons, then I picked up the running iron and branded the calf on one side. Father turned him over, and I quickly branded him on the other side. Then father castrated and earmarked him… By now castrating the baby goats was fairly easy for me, but cutting through the tough hide of a calf was quite another thing. Father didn’t think there was much difference; nevertheless he continued castrating the calves himself this time, always reminding me, ‘Next year you will have to do it yourself.”

My only complaint about this book is that it covered such a short period of the author’s colorful life. She wrote the book when she was in her eighties, and had other writings, but sadly they didn’t get published before she died. Looking her up, I discovered that when she inherited the ranch she also inherited a war over the land that lasted 10 years. Her horses and cattle were slaughtered en-masse during the conflict, and she herself shot at trespassers, earning the nickname ‘La Pistolera.’”

[revengeoftheantichrist]

Such Selfish Prayers

Warnings: Blasphemy, Catholic high school setting, teasing, inappropriate use of a chapel AO3

Friday morning mass had to be the most boring part of the school day. Listening to the priest go on and on about some bullshit parable made you want to run into traffic. You had zoned out until your head of year got up to make an announcement. “Ladies, those of you in Mr. Jones’ theology class are expecting some new students. Due to timetable clashes, some of the boys from Holy Cross will be joining your lesson until your exams. Please do give them a warm Sacred Heart welcome, and do not forget we are good catholic schoolgirls, so behave.” You rolled your eyes and tried not to huff. That was your theology lesson that was about to be invaded. The boys of your brother school were known for their abhorrent behaviour. Of course, the girls in your school weren’t angels, but you knew when you needed to behave; you had a reputation to maintain. You hoped they wouldn’t be too disruptive; you were already re-sitting final year and could not afford any fuck ups. //// Catholic theology; final period. The last hour between you and spending the weekend stoned or drunk, whichever came first. You were stopped by Sister Catherine on your way up to the lesson. “Y/N if I have to tell you one more time to pull your skirt down, that’s two weeks of afterschool detention, you know the rules.” You rolled your eyes and muttered a quick ‘yes sister’ and pulled your skirt down. As you walked into the classroom, you noticed that your friends were sitting in different spaces than usual. Mr Jones explained that he had rearranged the seating plan, to immerse the new boys into the classroom, and prevent a divide. You knew what he meant, you Politics lesson had a clear split between boys and girls, hurling insults at each other across the central aisle. You would be sat one boy and one girl; your seat being in the back corner, just behind your best friend Claire. You sat down and began to chat to the girl in front of you, the lesson couldn’t start without the boys and they were late. 15 Minutes had passed before they decide to show up. “Ah gentlemen, I’m glad you could make it,” said Mr Jones. “We’re sorry we’re so late sir, we got lost,” said the boy. The conversation in the room stopped at hearing his honey like voice. An American accent? Rare in your small English town. There weren’t any official government offices here so he couldn’t have been a diplomat’s son. Strange. His blond hair was perfectly styled, his uniform pressed to perfection. He looked so much more put together than the rest of his peers. You should know, it was the same school your younger brother went to, they never enforced uniform rules. You were surprised the boy wasn’t bullied for how nice it looked. “Well, don’t let it happen again, I can enforce detentions,” finished Mr. Jones. He started reading names and assigning them seats. The American boy was the last one standing and the seat next to you was the only empty one. You knew already he would be difficult; you weren’t here for it. “And finally, Mr. Langdon you will be sitting next to Miss. Y/LN. She just has a resting bitch face but I’m sure shell take good care of you,” said Mr Jones. The boy smirked at you and sauntered over. He sat down and unpacked his bag, taking over almost the whole desk. He finally turned to you, holing out his hand for you to shake. “Michael Langdon, nice to meet you.” You stared at his hand before shaking it, it was surprisingly soft. “Y/N,” you replied, tuning your attention back to the teacher, taking back your half of the desk by pushing his things to the side. You felt him staring at you. This was going to be a long lesson. //// Finally, the lesson was over. Michael had spent the whole time elbowing you and loudly bantering with his peers. If it wasn’t for you being in class, you would have hit him. You began to pack your stuff to leave, Mr Jones mentioning homework for Monday. Fuck, you’d have to see them first thing on Monday too. You resisted the temptation to leap through the window. The boy sat next to Claire turned to you,” your brother said you’d be a colossal bitch.” You furrowed your brows, “I haven’t even said anything to you, where’s this coming from? Also, my brothers in year 10 what the hell are you doing talking to him?” “You’re sat next to boy wonder over here and you haven’t said a word, he can pull conversation out of anyone,” replied the boy. You shook your head, “this is by far the stupidest conversation I’ve had in this classroom. Even stupider than the ‘is the anti-Christ sexy?’ one that we had last week.” It was Michaels turn to speak, “and what was the conclusion of that one.” Claire replied, “okay so, we thought ‘yes’ because he’s supposed to lead people into sin, right? So, you have to be sexy if people are lusting after you. Also, Satan was an angel so there’s that factor too.” “Girls!” shouted Mr Jones, “do not start that debate again we wasted a whole lesson on it already, go home its Friday I have shit to do.” You both laughed and left the classroom, not paying any mind to the boys behind you. //// Monday had arrived; the worst day of the week. To say you were hungover was an understatement. You walked in just before the lesson started, saying your good mornings before taking a seat. “you look like shit,” said the new boy. “I didn’t ask,” you replied. Mr Jones started talking to the class, “as the boys were late last week, we didn’t get to do introductions properly, so turn to your partner and tell them three things about you. Not including your name.” You rolled your eyes. “If you keep rolling your eyes, they’re gonna get stuck to the back of your head.” “again Langdon, I did not ask,” you huffed. She shot you a sarcastic smile, clearly annoyed by your short answers. “well then, what three things do you want to know about me?” “preferably nothing, but to make it go faster, where are you from?” “Los Angeles,” he replied. “ooo, California beach boy, are we? What brings you to this little catholic school in England then?” you asked. “My father sent me here, as for what he does, that’s classified.” “I wasn’t going to ask. Anyway, what’s your favourite food then?” “French toast,” he smiled. These three answers told you nothing about him, you didn’t want to admit it, something made you want to know more. “what do you want to know about me then?” you asked, not really wanting to give him any personal information. “what’s your favourite food?” “fettuccini alfredo.” “here’s what I really want to know,” he started, moving closer to you. “Who shoved that pole up your ass?” You raised your eyebrows and blinked slowly. Who did he think he is? “Why? Do you have something better?” “I might,” he replied, trailing his tongue over his teeth. “sorry. I’m not into blonds,” you finished. Turning back around to face the board. “I’m not finished asking questions,” said Michael. “I’m done answering them.” Mr Jones interrupted the class before he could argue. You hoped the class would fly by. You sat resting your chin on your hand, trying to listen to Mr Jones. Suddenly, your arm was elbowed out from beneath your chin, making you smack your chin off the table. Michael had elbowed you. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” “MISS Y/N!” “Michael elbowed me!” you said. “actually sir, her hand slipped,” Michael interjected. Mr jones looked pissed, “You know what? I really don’t care. Both of you are going to clean the chapel after school on Friday.” You sat there; gob smacked. You really did not want to spend any more time with Michael at all, but this was your final behaviour warning. Michael seemed surprisingly giddy; he was enjoying this far too much. //// Throughout the week, it seemed that Michael was doing anything he could to piss you off. Pushing you in hallways, taking your usual seats at lunch and in the library, even sitting behind you in mass, kicking your seat. “listen here you little blond bimbo bitch, if you don’t stop kicking my seat, I swear to god I’m gonna kill you,” you seethed. “Y/N! turn around were in the middle of mass!” your head of year whispered to you, trying not to disturb the priest. Michael kicked your seat even harder for the duration, even pulling your hair on occasion. How old was he? This wasn’t primary school. //// You were dreading the theology lesson today; it was the beginning of the two hours you would have to spend with the boy wonder. You took a breath to calm your nerves before walking into the classroom. ‘Revelations’ written on the board in red ink. You thought this was the most exciting book in the bible. Michael was already seated, grinning at you as you made eye contact. You moved to the other side of the aisle so he couldn’t attempt to trip you over. “Are you excited Y/N? you get to spend the next two hours with me you lucky thing.” “As soon as I see you outside these school gates it’s on sight mickey,” you replied. “Mickey?” “You look you’re an intellectual property of Disney,” you argued. “so, you think I look like a Disney prince then. I’ll keep that in mind princess.” “More like a prince of darkness, you’d be the villain actually.” He looked at you like you’d told him the funniest joke in the world, “you’re not far off,” he finished. What the hell did he mean by that? You decided not to press any further. “How do we think the world will end? Using biblical references,” Mr Jones’ voice broke through the silence. Michael had a glint in his eye, as if he knew something the rest of us didn’t. “how about Y/N? what’s your answer?” Had God decided that you were going to spend the rest of the year getting picked on? It seemed like it. “Erm well, the revelation about wormwood could easily refer to a nuclear bomb or something, looking at it in a modern context,” you gave your answer. “That’s a really good answer, nice to know your listening,” Mr Jones turned back to the class, leaving you be for the rest of the lesson. //// The lesson had ended. Mr Jones was walking the pair of you to the chapel in the convent that was connected to the school. It was silent. Just before you could walk in, Sister Catherine had spotted you again, “Y/N! SKIRT! PULL IT DOWN!” she shouted at you. You looked her in the eye, and slowly pulled it down, finishing with a smile. “This is a catholic school, I don’t know where you girls got the idea that short skirts were now acceptable,” she huffed, before leaving you alone with Michael and Mr jones. The chapel was beautiful. It was all white marble, stained glass and hardwood pews. Fresh flowers and statues of the virgin decorated little alcoves. Above the alter, the image of the crucifixion. You felt judged under his sombre gaze. Mr Jones handed you both the materials and gave you instructions on the cleaning. He’d be back in an hour. You were left alone with Michael. He made his way to the pews and sat down, putting his feet up and his hands behind his head. You rolled your eyes and got to dusting your side of the chapel, no way in hell were you going to do his work for him. You could feel his gaze on you as you dusted away. You stopped briefly to remove your blazer. You bent over to pick up a prayer card dropped by the alter. The prayer to Saint Michael. Unfortunately, the Michael in the room was anything but. “wow, your skirt really is short,” he said. You tried to get up to pull it down, but he was behind you. “Don’t be a perv and do your tasks!” He pulled you back against his chest, his arm around your waist and you head on his shoulder. “what the fuck Langdon!” you shouted. “You are far too mouthy princess,” he brought his hand around your throat, squeezing as a warning. He started to trail his fingers up from your knee. “You know,” he started. “I never got to ask that third question last week.” His fingers reached the hem of your skirt, slowly making their way underneath, making you shiver. You swallowed. “w-what did you want to know?” He had bunched your skirt up around your hips, exposing your legs. His fingers started to trace the hem of your panties. “I want to know if you’re a virgin y/n? Is he the only man you’ve ever gotten on your knees for?” he asked, nodding to the image of Christ. You had had ‘almosts’, but never the whole nine yards. His palm came across your ass and you squeaked. “Answer the question princess.” “Y -yes,” you replied, your skin heating up. He let go of you and you breathed a sigh of relief; reaching to tug your skirt back down. He gripped your wrists before you could, turning you around to face him. “I’m not finished with you yet.” His face was so close, you could smell the mint gum he liked to chew loudly. Something made you want to lean in a little further and kiss him, but you hesitated. “I’m going to be your new messiah from now on Y/N,” he said, pushing you onto your knees. His thumb stroked your cheek, before putting it in your mouth. “Don’t bite, or there’ll be consequences,” he warned. He ran his thumb along your tongue, before replacing it with two of his fingers; thrusting them in and out your mouth. You were too captivated by his eyes to respond. The low lighting of the chapel illuminating his golden hair like a halo. He finally pulled his fingers out, connecting to your lips with a string of spit. “Keep your mouth open,” he ordered. He reached for his belt, unbuckling in. You started to shift around, the marble hurting your knees and your arousal begging for attention. He said a quick ‘sit still’ before finally pulling his cock out. It was actually really nice to look at. He gripped your jaw, forcing you to open your mouth even further, before slowly sliding it in. He hissed at the sensation of your warm mouth. “This is the best was to shut you up.” He pushed until you gaged, the sensation so foreign to you. “C’mon princess, use your hands, I’m not here to do all the work,” he said. You took the base of his cock in your hands, moving it in time with your mouth. Michaels moans echoed throughout the chapel, adding fuel to your own arousal. You felt him twitch in your mouth. He grabbed your head and pulled you off, panting. You watched his wet cock bob against his clothed abdomen. “Get up” he ordered, so you did. He pushed you back, so you were lying on the alter, looking up at the frescoes on the ceiling. The image of God looking at you in disgust. Michael put his hand around your throat, “Look at me, I’m your god now.” He peeled your panties off, pocketing them. Pervert. His hands held your thighs apart, inspecting the wetness of your folds, before running his finger through. The sensation made you jolt and whine. “Keep quiet or they’ll hear you.” You nodded. He brought his fingers up to show you your arousal, you tried to turn your head away in embarrassment, but he had gripped your throat again. He continued to toy with your clit, bringing little gasps out of you. You cried out as he thrust two fingers inside. It felt so good, his touch was electric. “You’re so tight, I think I might break you,” he grinned. He noticed the prayer card still in your had, getting an idea. “Read that little prayer out while I defile you on the alter, your final prayer to your old god,” he commanded. “I- I can’t,” you managed to squeak out. Tears were welling in your eyes. He pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean before humming. “You will,” he stated. He lined himself up, looking at you, waiting for you to start. "S-Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us i-in battle.” He pushed in, groaning as he did so. “Be our protection against… against the wickedness and snares of the d-devil.” He began to move, thrusting into you, making you forget your words. “You’re so tight, like you were made for me,” he panted out. “May God rebuke him, we humbly pray,” you managed to get out. Michael squeezed his hand around your throat. “And do thou, O Prince of the H-Heavenly Host.” He gripped your hip hard enough to leave bruises, picking up the pace. “By the power of God,” you couldn’t think anymore. The only thing on your mind was him. He slapped your ass, “by the power of god? Finish it.” He brought his hand down, rubbing circles around your clit, you squeezed around him. “Thrust into hell S-Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world for the r-ruin of souls.” Michael grinned, his eyes turned black and his skin pale. You were too far gone in your pleasure to scream at his demonic face. He reached under your shirt collar, yanking your gold crucifix off your neck. You could feel your release coming on fast, Michael could too. “Let’s finish the prayer together hmm?” “Amen,” you both moaned at the same time. Your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. Michael wasn’t too far behind, coating your insides with his seed. Slowly pulling out of you, watching your mixed fluids drip onto the alter. Coming out of your haze, you finally realised where you were and what you had done. “What are you Michael?” you whispered. “You read about me an hour ago,” he said, tucking himself back in, his face back to its normal state. Your eyes widened, it finally clicked. The Anti-Christ. You looked up to the crucifix above you, the statue crying blood. The faces in the stained glass twisted in sorrow. The statues of the virgin weeping blood. A wave of nausea hit you. Michael pulled you up, putting your skirt back in place. He smirked at you and pulled you in for a kiss, his tongue invading your mouth. He took your hand and placed your necklace in your palm. The cross had been inverted. “I’ll be over tomorrow, just introduce me as your boyfriend. You still have some more repentance to do.” With that he left you in the chapel. Leaving you clean up the mess, alone.

[papermoonloveslucy]

OLD GOLD COMEDY THEATRE

“A GIRL, A GUY, AND A GOB” ~ February 11, 1945

The Old Gold Comedy Theatre (aka Harold Lloyd Comedy Theatre) was NBC Radio’s attempt to replicate the success of CBS’ Lux Radio Theatre. It debuted on October 29th, 1944. Silent film star and producer (and Lucille Ball’s mentor) Harold Lloyd introduced condensations of movie comedies. This film happened to be one of his own. NBC programmed the series Sunday nights at 10:30PM for east coast audiences. The series was cancelled on June 10th, 1945. 

Lucille Ball had done the second episode of the series, starring in Ball of Fire on November 5, 1944. Ball took the role originated in the 1941 film by Barbara Stanwyck while Cary Grant reprised his role for radio. 

A Girl, a Guy and a Gob is a 1941 RKO film produced by Harold Lloyd and starring Lucille Ball, George Murphy, and Edmond O'Brien. Ball and Murphy reprise their film roles for radio. 

The film had previously been dramatized for radio on “The Screen Guild Radio Theatre” on October 9, 1944, also starring Ball and Murphy. 

Synopsis ~ A shy, quiet executive for a shipping firm who finds himself with a dilemma: he's become smitten with his young temporary secretary but she's the girlfriend of his Navy buddy - and the buddy is scheduled to be discharged in only a few days.

Note: “Gob” is a slang word for a sailor. This term first showed up in regard to sailors around 1909 and may have come from the word gobble. Reportedly, some people thought that sailors gobbled their food. The term also may come from the word gob, which means to spit, something sailors also reportedly do often.

CAST

Lucille Ball as Dorothy (Dotty) Duncan aka ‘The Girl’

George Murphy as Claudius (Coffee) Cup aka ‘The Gob’ ~ was in four films with Lucille Ball between 1934 and 1941. In 1959, Murphy served as guest host of “The Westinghouse Desilu Playhouse” when Desi Arnaz took a role in his own anthology series. He was also a performer in “The Desilu Revue” aired in December 1959. As the host of “MGM Parade”, he interviewed Lucy and Desi in February 1956. 

Will Wright as Pop Duncan ~ would appear with Lucille Ball in the 1949 film Miss Grant Takes Richmond, and played the locksmith in “The Handcuffs” (ILL  S2;E4) in 1952, and the Bent Fork Sheriff in “Tennessee Bound” (ILL S4;E14) in 1955.  The role was played on screen by George Cleveland. 

EPISODE

The announcer introduces the evening’s play and its stars as well as the director, Harold Lloyd. Lloyd states that he has recruited the original stars of the film version. Murphy and Ball take the microphone. Lucille’s next film, MGM’s Without Love, is briefly mentioned.  Llloyd sets the story,

Executive Stephen Herrick is taking his date to a piano concert at Carnegie Hall when he discovers people are already sitting in his usual box seats. It is Dotty (Lucille Ball) and Coffee Cup (Murphy). Lucy whacks Mr. Herrick in the head with her handbag when he threatens to call the manager. Coffee Cup admits that he did not exactly purchase the tickets legally and they decide to make a hasty departure.   

COFFEE CUP: “For my money, Count Basie’s got it all over this guy Josie Iturbe.”  

José Iturbi Báguena (1895-1980) was a Spanish conductor, pianist and harpsichordist. He appeared in several Hollywood films of the 1940s, playing himself in the 1943 musical Thousands Cheer, which also featured Lucille Ball.  Lucille Ball mentions Iturbi again on an October 7, 1949 episode of her radio show “My Favorite Husband.”  William James "Count" Basie (1904-84) was an American jazz pianist, organist, bandleader, and composer.

Next day, at Mr. Herrick’s office, his new secretary arrives - it is Dotty!  Herrick threatens to throw her out if she won’t leave and Dotty quickly explains that she gave him the money for the tickets but he lost it on a horse. Herrick reluctantly agrees to hire her anyway.

Sailors Coffee Cup and Eddie meet Dotty for lunch. He begs Dotty to allow him to get a tattoo like Eddie. She is adamant - no tattoos.  Eddie claims he can grow four inches right in front of them - with his heels flat on the ground. Mr. Herrick comes by and sees the growing crowd watching this. A bet is wagered if Eddie can truly do it. Dotty borrows five bucks from Mr. Herrick so that Coffee Cup can make the bet.  

When Eddie succeeds, the assembled crowd soon turns into a mob and there is a fist fight and a broken store window. Mr. Herrick gets knocked out by a big lug, who in turn is knocked out by Dotty’s lethal purse. 

END of ACT ONE

A live Old Gold Cigarette commercial touts that the tobacco blend includes apple honey, to prevent dryness. 

Earlier in her career, Lucille Ball was a spokes model for Chesterfield Cigarettes. Later, she would be associated with Philip Morris when they agreed to sponsor “I Love Lucy.”  Despite this, Lucille Ball herself remained a Chesterfield smoker for most of her life. 

“And remember, when the gremlins gang up on you, why be irritated? Light up an Old Gold.”

ACT TWO Eddie and Coffee Cup have taken Herrick back to Dot’s busy brownstone to calm his nerves, giving him a sleeping powder. There he is watched over by Mr. and Mrs. Duncan, Dot’s parents. Her father is listening to “The Lone Stranger” on the radio while Mrs. Liebowitz (an upstairs neighbor) is about to have a baby! 

“The Lone Stranger” is a comical reference to “The Lone Ranger.” The masked cowboy first appeared on radio in 1933 and proved to be a hit. It spawned a series of books and later an equally popular television show that ran from 1949 to 1957.

Coffee Cup comes by to check on Mr. Herrick, who is only concerned with finding his pants. Dotty comes in to help him find them. They are about to set the table for dinner - corned beef and cabbage - when Liebowitz number 9 comes in to the world. Mr. Herrick wins the baby weight pool. He agrees to go out on the town and celebrate with them. 

A few days later, Dotty is late back from lunch, showing off her new engagement ring. She tells Mr. Herrick that Coffee Cup has a wrestling match that night. If he wins, the prize money will pay for their wedding. Mr. Herrick confesses that he hopes Coffee Cup loses.  

At the wedding chapel, Eddie wonders why he asked Mr. Herrick to be their best man when he is obviously in love with Dotty. Mr. Higgenbottom, photographer, interrupts to get a photo, mistaking Mr. Herrick for the groom. The sailors need to get back to the ship, so Coffee Cup allows them to give Dotty a farewell kiss before the wedding. Mr. Herrick gets in line. Dotty suddenly feels awkward and runs out. 

Coffee Cup follows her to talk privately. She has been crying. He wonders if she has feelings for Mr. Herrick. While she fixes her face, Coffee Cup steps out and tells Mr. Herrick he should go in and console her. Coffee Cup tells Eddie to inform Dot’s mother that he went to get cigarettes. 

END of ACT TWO

Another live commercial for Old Gold Cigarettes.  The announcer reminds listeners that the men in uniform get first consideration in the distribution of Old Gold Cigarettes. 

ACT THREE

Harold Lloyd sets the scene. The bride and the best man are at the alter, but the groom is nowhere to be found. Mr. Herrick realizes what has happened and rushes out to follow Coffee Cup, who has driven away on motorcycle. Mr. Herrick yells at him from a taxi cab. 

Suddenly, Coffee Cup crashes, but is unharmed. When Herrick threatens to bring him back to the alter, Coffee Club slugs him and tells the cabbie to take them back to the chapel. He writes a note on the unconscious Herrick’s shirt front and with a loud honk of the taxi horn, speeds away toward the ship yard. Dotty and the wedding party find Herrick on the street and she reads the note: 

“Dot, this guy loves you and I know now you love him. It’s a good thing I found out before it was too late. See you next time I’m on leave. ~ Coffee Cup. PS: The wedding’s all paid for, why don’t you use it and you and him get married.”

At the shipyard, Eddie catches up with Coffee Cup, who reports that Dot did indeed marry Mr. Herrick. As they board the ship, they discuss plans for Coffee Cup’s new tattoo. 

END OF EPISODE

Harold Llloyd, George Murphy, and Lucille Ball bid audiences goodnight. He reminds them to tune in next week for Jack Haley, Jimmy Gleason, and Eve Arden in The Milky Way.

The Announcer thanks RKO, producers of Experiment Perilous.

George Murphy appeared courtesy of MGM, producers of National Velvet.

[whitepolaris]

Dr. Venable and the Great Shower of Blood

We begin with a few facts about our chief investigator, lest anyone be tempted to dismiss outright bizarre facts described below. Professor Francis Preston Venable was one of the most accomplished scientists of his day. He excelled in chemistry and held multiple degrees from the University of Virginia and the German universities of Berlin and Göttingen. He authored major scientific books on atoms (1904) and radioactivity (1917), and is credited with having perfected the Bunsen burner. Dr. Venable retired in 1930 after serving fifty years on the University of North Carolina faculty. Venable Hall, one of the main science buildings on the U.N.C. campus, is named for him. 

So this is not the kind of guy who would risk his reputation on a trifling subject. But in 1884, he filed a serious scientific paper on a very strange topic indeed, namely, that a large quantity of blood seemed to have fallen out of the sky onto a small plot had of land in Chatham County, NC, less than fifteen miles from Chapel Hill. The event was first brought to the public’s attention in the March 6, 1884, issue of the Chatham Record newspaper. 

“The wife of Kit Lasater . . . who lives on the farm of Mr. Silas Beckwith in the New Hope Township, states that, about 2 o’clock on Monday the 25th of February . . . a shower of blood fell around her from a sun-bright sky! Many of the neighbors, after hearing of her statement, visited the spot and they all say that the ground-embracing an area about 60 feet in circumference-was covered with splotches of something like blood, and an examination of the trees in the space showed blood on the branches.”

Upon hearing about the strange event, Venable visited the spot himself and did a very detailed analysis of the samples he obtained. His extensive tests revealed the presence of hematine, a component of blood. His conclusion in the Journal of the Elisha Mitchell Scientific Society: 

[t]his leaves little or no reasonable doubt then that the samples examined had blood upon them. The question arises, were they carefully taken; had no animal ever bled on the same ground; had pigs ever been slaughtered in the quarter of the field? etc. As to theories accounting for so singular a material falling from a cloudless sky. I have no plausible ones to offer. It may have been some bird of prey passing over, carrying a bleeding animal, but a good deal of blood must have fallen to cover so large a space. If a hoax has been perpetrated on the people of that neighborhood it has certainly been very clearly done and an object seems to be lacking.”

Similar observations had occurred from time to time, and Venable’s decision to submit his report may have been encouraged by intriguing articles that had appeared many years earlier in other scientific journals. In 1841, the American Journal of Science described a rain of muscle tissue, fat, and blood that landed in a tobacco field near Lebanon, Tennessee. The incident created fear among people who saw biblical portent in it. Fear were once reinforced when an article in the North Carolinian several years later headlined “GREAT FALL OF FLESH & BLOOD, EXTRAORDINARY PHENOMENON IN SAMPSON COUNTY” and described the “astonishing particulars” of a shower of gore that occurred on February 15, 1850, on the property of Thomas Clarkson,  near Clinton, NC. 

The shower fell in a roughly rectangular pattern and covered a zone about thirty feet wide by nearly three hundred yards long. It also included many large pieces of flesh-meat, liver, lungs, and brains-along with gobs of blood. The blood fell in enough quantity to run down the leaves of the trees and splash on the ground like a heavy rain. A lawyer who lived nearby spotted that it came from “a cloud overhead, having a red appearance, like a wind cloud. There was no rain.” He took samples of the fallen flesh materials, which were later confirmed to be putrefied flesh. 

The site of the old Beckwith farm in Chatham County is through to have been along Parker’s Creek, about a mile east of Mount Gilead Church (a few miles northeast of Pittsboro), while the Clarkson farm in Sampson County was thirteen miles southwest of Clinton. -Special thanks to Tom Maxwell

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who’s willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XXV

January 11, 2278.

I’m certain the entire Wasteland heard the explosion.

My partner stood still, completely silent. 

All of us watched as Paradise Falls went up in flames, the fire reflecting in Percy’s glasses.

The Abolitionists and the ex-slaves cheered and yelled, some raising their fists, the others embracing each other and sobbing. Cross carried the children on her shoulders, and the little ones laughed as Paradise burned. DeLoria sat near the Abolitionists’ caravan, speaking to a few of them while nursing a bruised rib, a confident grin on his face.

Everyone is celebrating, except for the two of us.

Percy drops to her knees and cries. Wordlessly, I took my place at her side, but I didn’t dare say anything.

She grabs and squeezes my hand, and I finally allowed myself to breathe.

“You’re free,” she whispers.

Just as quickly, she lets it go.

Now, it was time to lick our wounds.

Percy patched the injured up, including me. Her eyes never met mine, and she never said a word throughout the entire ordeal. My partner knelt in front of me, tending to the gunshot wound I had on my calf, but she doesn’t look at me.

As we said our goodbyes, we walked to where we parked the motorbike, almost two kilometers from Paradise Falls’ front gate. Percy hops on, but she doesn’t press herself against my back, opting to hold my sides.

“Let’s go home,” she finally mumbles.

I couldn’t help but overthink the entire journey home.

Was getting rid of the contract a mistake? Is Percy done with me?

Is she going to kick me out of her home? Where will I go?

What the fuck am I going to do without her?

Why isn’t she talking to me?

January 12, 2278.

I was anxious for hours.

When we arrived in Megaton, Percy didn’t even stop by Gob’s Saloon to fetch Dogmeat. She just kept marching on. Without breathing a word, I followed her home.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind us, not minding the cold, Percy strips to her underclothes as she drags her feet to the kitchenette, struggling with the buckles of her armor. The faucet was running, and I heard her shiver as she tended to herself.

Then, I hear the refrigerator door opening and closing shut. She emerges from the kitchenette with a half-empty bottle of scotch in her hand, and she sits on the sofa, taking a long swig from the bottle. Fresh bandages were on her scrapes from the fight. Percy takes off her glasses and I see it clearer now, the darkening circles under her eyes from all the things she had to deal with.

Now, she has to deal with me too.

“Percy,” I mumble, building the courage to speak to her.

“Talk to me. Please?” It was my turn to use that word.

The two centuries of being bound to my contract felt longer than the silence between my question and her response.

“Come sit,” she tells me.

I do as she says.

We sat on the opposite sides of the sofa, just a few inches between each other, but it feels like she’s worlds away.

I decided that I did not like this feeling.

“Should I still call you Charon, or should I start calling you Artyom?”

I blinked at her a few times.

Tonight, I am reminded that I wasn’t always ‘Charon’. I remember my old name, the one that my mother gave me, but that child was a different person from who I became, and who I am now. That boy is long gone. But now… Now I’m not even a man.

Tonight I am reminded that I am a monster, inside and out.

“Charon.”

She went silent after that, expression blank.

“Artyom Volkov is long dead. He died when the Enclave’s predecessors took him,” I added.

Percy puts the bottle down, and her eyes flick towards me. Wet. Wary. Afraid.

It hurts to see it.

“Charon, I’m sorry. I didn���t know what to say. I know you were involved in the Sino-American war but…” Percy starts, pressing her knees against her chest.

“Hearing it come from that slaver’s mouth… It’s still pretty jarring. It scared me.”

I gulped.

No, not fear.

I’d rather she hate me than fear me.

My eyes trailed to her shivering form and out of instinct, I stood up, my feet taking me upstairs. I come back with a blanket from her room, and I drape it around her shoulders. I intended to leave her alone after that. But before I can take my hand away, she touches it, and she pulls me back on the couch. Wrapping the blanket around herself, she settles on my lap, back pressed against my chest. Before I can stop myself, I draw her closer to me.

I’m certain she can feel my heart hammering hard on her back.

“None of the conditioning you went through is your fault. I really do believe that.”

“But?” I ask her. I felt like there was going to be a ‘but”.

“But nothing. Charon, I’m sorry for not talking to you. I’m still absorbing what the hell just happened. I was emotional, I was having irrational thoughts and… and I didn’t want to say anything that will hurt you.”

“I understand.”

The tightness in my chest dissipates little by little, and I press my face against the back of Percy’s head. I can smell smoke, gunpowder, Abraxo, and a scent that was hers alone.

“Remember what I said months ago, about how I’ll refrain from discussing your past unless you want to talk about it?” Percy asks me, looking up and leaning against my right shoulder.

I nod. I’m afraid where this conversation is leading to.

“Let’s just rip the entire band-aid off. Can I ask you some things now?”

I knew it.

“I’m afraid that what you think of me will change once you hear all of my sins,” is my response, and I look away from her. I wasn’t ready to confront that part of myself yet.

I wasn’t ready to hear what she said after that, either.

“Hey. I want to let you know, no matter what I’ll learn about your history, or what people say about you, you’re still the Charon I know. You’re still the Charon who kept my impulsive ass in check, the Charon who carries me gently whenever I’m injured or shitfaced. You’re still the Charon who stuck by me as we wiped off that slaver shithole off the map, the same Charon who broke free from centuries of being tied to that fucking piece of paper. You’ll always be my Charon.”

My eyes are starting to get wet.

Goddammit, Percy.

Without saying anything, I buried my face into her hair, and I did the best I could to hold back my tears. We stayed like that for what seemed like hours.

“Besides,” she finally breaks the silence. “I don’t think I have the heart to hear what they forced you to do either. I want to ask about who you were as Artyom Volkov.”

I scratch my head, or what skin left on it anyway. “Angel, as much as I would like to, I was sixteen when they changed my name and deemed me ready. I’m afraid there’s not much to tell. I’ve lived for more than two centuries, and sixteen years seems insignificant now.”

“Well, I’m just about to turn twenty next month, so excuse my differing perception on the flow of time,” Percy chuckles, eyeing her photograph with her father on the wall.

She turns around to face me. I lie back on the sofa, and she lies prone on top of me, chin resting on my chest. “Let’s start small. You mentioned your dad before. Tell me about him.”

I let myself smile a little. Propping my head against one arm, I’m ready to tell her everything I can remember.

“His name’s Ilya. I can’t quite remember his face, but he was big. Like a yao guai.”

Percy giggles.

“Yeah, definitely like you. Tell me more about him. What was he like?”

“He made me feel safe. During the winter he’ll take his ushanka out of the attic and tell me about the place he came from. I remember wanting to wear his hat. He said that one day I’d grow into it, but he was killed before that could happen,” I tell Percy, and she gives me a sympathetic look.

Not pity again. I need to change the subject. “We spent Saturdays fishing. I barely saw him during the weekdays.”

“Huh. What did he do?”

“I can’t remember, but on Sundays, my father used to bring people from work in the house, and they’d sit and talk for hours. I couldn’t comprehend what they were discussing together.”

“What did they talk about?” Percy asks.

“I’m not sure. Once, I asked him what the meetings are about, and he told me that they’re talking about how they can be paid better at work, so he can bring home more food for us.”

Percy crawls a little closer. “Sounds like he was in a labor union.”

“A what?”

“A labor union. I don’t know when unions first showed up, but history class from the vault taught me a little about the ones from the era before the Great War. Resources became scarce, so did wages. People worked long hours for very little pay. Workers banded together to demand better benefits from their employers. Mr. Brotch told us that what the laborers did was fair, and I think I agree,” Percy explains, a stray lock of hair on her forehead.

I brushed it off gingerly, my fingers brushing against her skin. She leans into my touch.

“In hindsight, it was probably their meetings that led to them being accused as Reds,” she adds.

I paused, pondering on the information Percy shared with me.

“You know, come to think of it, he always came home late and tired. My mother was always worried about him.”

At the mention of the word mother, Percy’s eyes flick to mine. There was a certain kind of sadness in them. I felt a twinge in my chest.

“What was your mother like, Charon? What was it like to have a mom?”

“Her name’s Annika. She was gentle to me. Protective too. Scolded the kids who made fun of my difficulties in reading. Aside from singing me lullabies, she used to make me the thinnest pancakes. She called them blins. Having a mother who looked after me was nice. I felt cared for.”

“That… that sounds amazing.”

My breath hitches at my throat.

“I loved her very much. I loved both of them very much.”

Percy strokes my arm, hand soft against my rough skin and hardened muscles. “Was there anyone else in your family? Like a sibling?”

“I didn’t have brothers or sisters, but I did have an aunt. Katya. She was my father’s younger sister.”

“What do you remember about her?”

“The last time I saw her was to visit her during her birthday, Her hair was red too. I didn’t know what happened to her after I was taken away.”

“And what was Aunt Katya like?”

“Loud. Chatty. She talked my ear off for hours, though there were some things she said that I didn’t understand a child, and can’t remember now. I loved her too.”

“I see,” my partner replies, yawning and stretching.

Then, Percy asks me a question that made me hold my breath.

“Was there anyone else you loved aside from family, Charon?”

You.

Wait. Stop. Damn, and I almost said it out loud.

I care for Percy. I really do. But is it love?

Fuck, I’m still figuring it out.

“The indoctrination didn’t leave much room for that. We were actively discouraged from forming any attachments to anyone except our employers,” I tell her instead.

I felt Percy sag against me. She rests her cheek against my chest.

“I’m sorry.”

“There was someone I cared for despite the conditioning, though,” I tell her.

“Who?”

“Her name was Magwayen. I called her Mag, I couldn’t remember her name before she was inducted. When I was brought to the facility as a child, she cared for me.”

Percy holds my gaze, silently asking me to continue.

“I think she was about your age when I met her. I was a lot shorter than her back then. By the time I was inducted, she was our medic. I was their demolition guy.”

Thinking about Mag, my brain started to itch again.

“Now that I’ve thought about it, you two are similar.”

Head perking up, Percy gives me a curious look. “Oh? Aside from our age and our background in medicine, what else did we share?”

“She was Asian too, I think. Had dark hair like yours, but it was longer. You both had strong principles. She managed to fake being subservient to survive. I was supposed to report her for that, but she was kind. It became our secret.”

Percy gives me a soft smile. “I have a feeling Mag and I would’ve gotten along.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “Yeah. And you were both short as hell.”

With a laugh, Percy gives my chest a playful shove. “Making fun of me now? Oh Charon, how could you?” she asks, her voice dripping with mock hurt.

“Now that the contract’s gone, I can tease you without the fear of you selling it.”

“As if my conscience is capable of letting me do that,” she replies, now with genuine hurt. Shit.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that.”

Percy blinks at me.

“I do not want to admit it, but you selling my contract became one of my worst fears. I didn’t expect you to free me from it.”

To my surprise, this angel leans forward and kisses me at my temple, where I had pointed a gun at a few hours ago.

“I didn’t free you from it. I just helped you. You did that yourself, big guy. I’m proud of you.”

I fell asleep smiling.

??? ??, ????.

I feel an unwelcome weight above me.

When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t looking into eyes with the color of Pre-War chocolate anymore. They’re green, reminding me of the Wasteland’s radioactive sky.

Recoiling in horror, I blurted her name.

“Vanth.”

She wraps her hands around my neck, and I was in hell all over again.

“Charon.”

“Vanth, no. Stop! Get the fuck off me,” I growl at her. “Percy, where are you?”

“She can’t save you now.”

In the corner of my eye, I see Percy, her skull and brains strewn on the metal floor.

No...

Powerless, I just let it fucking happen.

All of a sudden, I can hear Percy’s voice.

“Charon, wake up,” Percy whispers with urgency, gently shaking me awake.

I saw her face, and crushed her against my chest.

“Nightmare?”

I nod.

“Hey, who’s Vanth?”

[saiilorstars]

Next Stop, Everywhere

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: Female OC x 10th Doctor

(OC Face claim: Victoria Camacho)

// Story Masterlist //

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Chapter 11: The American and the Martian

Chapter summary: Christmas is just around the corner when Donna Noble arrives, but how will Minerva and the Doctor's dynamic change with Donna in the mix instead of Rose Tyler?

We were in the TARDIS with no real destination in thought; we just floated in space. We couldn't think about any place right now - actually, I couldn't think of anything right now but the Doctor could. Soon as we had returned to the TARDIS, he asked to finally hear my story. So I finally spoke. I sat on the Captain's chair, spilling most of my story to him without ever once being interrupted. There were only a few things that I couldn't really tell him, things that I admitted out loud I wasn't ready for.

"My real name is Minerva Joycelin Souza. I made my middle name my first name so my parents couldn't track me down. It's a simple change but believe me, they haven't found me. I'm way smarter than them," I shrugged, not caring how those two would take it, "All they have is phone numbers from the people I've been with."

"So you're a runaway?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, "A runaway from home?"

"No..." I said quietly, looking up at him. I wanted to leave clear that I was not some child who made a rash decision. I was a grown up and I had been one for a very long time now. "I was tired. I was tired of home. They, my parents, aren't the best and I couldn't take living with them anymore. They blame me for something that I swear wasn't my fault. It couldn't be."

"Do you want to tell me that?" he asked cautiously, understanding the mental association was just stronger than my need to tell him.

"Honestly, no..."

"And that's okay. But when you feel like it's time, you just sit me down and I swear I'll listen this time."

"Thank you. "

"Have you ever talked to your family since you left?"

"Once or twice...the most recent being this year. But I won't want to speak to them."

"But they're your family!"

"That's their biological name but they are not!" I snapped, jumping off my chair. I realized I had startled him by the way he was looking at me, and for that I felt guilty. I waited until the anger had decreased to speak again, and when I did I spoke much softer, "Doctor, they're my family, yes, but they haven't earned that name. I have parents, aunts, uncles, cousins...but do you know what I was? Isolated. I felt like I was always alone..."

He placed his hand over mine, making me look up, "Do you still feel that way?"

"...no," I answered, surprisingly sure.

"Joy, I mean...Minerva, I never wanted to ignore you. I didn't even realize I was doing it. Guess you were right, all my head could think about was Rose. I wanted to show her everything...and in doing so, I forgot to be a good person to you."

"You weren't rude," I reminded, "Ignoring, but never rude."

It seemed like he was thinking about something and I could only guess on what, "Jo-Minerva, do you have any idea why Rose would keep your phone calls a secret from me?"

Easy, because she was jealous. I couldn't be that mean to somebody who wasn't around to defend themselves anymore...but it's not like she didn't deserve it. Focus Minerva! "She...she found out about my real name and I suppose it scared her a bit," I replied.

"She didn't tell me anything about that..."

"Of course not, I asked her to keep it a secret."

Rose was gone and never coming back. What good would it do to tarnish his memory of her over something as petty as jealousy? He didn't need to know about that, and he never would. I could do that for him.

"You asked her to keep it away from me?" he raised an eyebrow, disliking the idea, "What? You thought I'd be angry you lied about your name?"

"No, I wanted to be the one to tell you." That wasn't a lie. I didn't want Rose to spill because it wasn't her story to tell. I was never afraid of her but it did terrify me knowing I could push her to the point of making her tell the Doctor about something she didn't even understand.

"Okay, understandable," he nodded, conceding, "Does that mean she knew everything, then?"

"No. She knew nothing except about my real name. But even that was complicated seeing as she thr..." Somehow, I can see keeping her threat a secret would be a bit complicated seeing as I tend to ramble now thanks to the alien.

"As she what?" he asked.

"Nothing! I asked Rose to keep it a secret, end of story."

"Alright..." he nodded, seeming to buy it for now, "...so this family of yours," he went around the console as if to set in coordinations, "Where are they?"

"I'm not going, Doctor," I informed quietly. I knew what he was thinking of. If I told him where they lived he might take me there when I least expect it! I wasn't going to give him the chance!

"How else do you expect to fix things?"

"I don't."

"You haven't seen your parents in how many years?"

"...four."

"So then the right thing to do is-"

"To make it five years."

He mock-glared, tilting his head, as that was clearly not the answer he wanted, "Do you understand I made a promise to Jackie that I'd bring you home? Plus, now that I see how much it affects you, I want to bring you home."

"No thank you. I just wanna know you and I want you to know me and not my family."

He sighed and let the console go. I could tell there was going to be slight tension over that topic.

"Okay, well how about a call to see if they're alive? I don't care how angry and sad you are because of them, I know you want to know if they're alive."

It was my turn to sigh as he was right. No matter how much my parents and I disagreed, I still wanted them to be okay. "I don't have a cell phone, though."

That caught him off guard, "Come again?"

"Another thing you don't know about me. I don't have a cell phone. I don't believe in them. I don't believe in wasting my time talking over the phone with someone when I could use that time to be outside doing things that matter."

He grinned, "I really like you, you know that? First human I ever hear say that one."

"I'll call, but I won't say anything," I stood up, smiling just a bit as he went to the phone, "I'll let them answer."

"Parents or grandmother first?"

"Grandmother," I mumbled as I took the phone and started dialing. It felt so odd actually dialing those familiar numbers. I hadn't done so in so long and when she called, well...I had thrown the phone away. Poor Mickey wasn't so happy about that.

"Hello?" my grandmother's sweet voice answered, making my breathing hitch quite loudly. The Doctor placed a hand over my shoulder, encouraging me to speak. "Hello?" she asked again, pausing a few minutes before speaking again, "...is that you, Minerva?"

I literally threw the phone at the Doctor, making him scramble to catch it, "I can't," I shook my head, feeling the tears building up inside my eyes. "Hang up, please."

He stared for a few seconds, looking sad but trust me not as much as I was. Silently, he placed the phone over his ear, "I can assure you that you're granddaughter is safe and well. She will be fine," and he hung up.

"She's alive, she's alive, she's alive," I whispered to myself, my tears turning into those of joy, "Oh thank God."

"And your parents?" the Doctor asked.

"...I'll call the house. If they're alive then they won't answer. They'll let one of the maids do it."

"Maids?" he raised an eyebrow, acting as if he was judging me for leaving such a grand place.

"Oh shut up," I took the phone back, "I don't like to be waited on. It's demeaning to them," I started dialing and surely enough, Hayley, one of my mother's favorite maids, answered.

"Hello? If this is the window repairment shop, Mrs. Souza is very upset you're late. She will not stand for it and will go ahead and hire a new crew. Mr. Souza has already begun the recruitment, thank you."And she hung up before I even got a word out.

I placed the phone in its place. It wasn't the same feeling I got when I heard my grandmother's voice but there was still joy inside me knowing that my parents were safe too. "They're alive."

"Are you okay?" the Doctor asked, turning me to face him, "I know you probably hate me for forcing you like that but-"

"You did not force me," I corrected him, "It does make me feel better knowing they're alive."

"Hopefully, little by little, we can make some progress."

" I hope you're talking about just us," I clarified, "Because it's my only goal right now. Getting to know the ridiculous, banana-loving alien in front of me."

"There's not gonna be much progress if you keep calling me that," he warned with a finger.

"Well I need a better nickname!"

He rolled his eyes and opened that gob of his to argue when a strange noise, coming from the doors, made us stop. 

We peered around the console to see a bright ginger woman, dressed in a wedding dress, turning around.

"What?" the Doctor stepped out, completely baffled by the appearance.

"Who are you!?" the ginger demanded.

"But-"

"Where am I!?"

"What!?" the Doctor's eyes were nearly popping out his head by how wide they were.

"What the hell is this place!?" the ginger shouted.

"You can't do that, I wasn't...we're in flight!" the Doctor exclaimed, "That is-" he pointed at her, "That is physically impossible! How did...?"

"Tell me where I am. I demand you tell me right now!" the ginger glared. Her green eyes were full of anger and it almost looked like she could kill with that look, "Where am I!?"

"Uh...you're in the TARDIS," I answered this time, the Doctor too bewildered to keep up with the answers the woman needed, "And if you could please calm-"

"The what?" she said, her voice loud as a yell even though it didn't even seem she was trying to yell anymore.

"The TARDIS," I repeated, kind of scared to keep answering for fear of another shout.

The Doctor walked to the console, probably to figure out how we had a new visitor.

"That's not even a proper word!" the ginger snapped, "You're just saying things!"

"I-I'm not..."

"How did you get in here?" the Doctor demanded.

"Well, obviously, when you two kidnapped me! Who was it? Who's paying you? Is it Nerys?" she looked between us, "Oh my god, she's finally got me back. This has got Nerys written all over it."

"Who the hell is Nerys?" the Doctor glanced up.

"Your best friend!"

"Hold on, wait a minute, what're you dressed like that for?" he looked her over, clearly not getting the whole 'wedding dress' concept.

"I'm going ten pin bowling," she shrugged sarcastically, "Why do you think, Dumbo? I was halfway up the aisle! I've been waiting all my life for this!" she began walking around the console, "I was just seconds away! And then you! I don't know, you drugged me or something!"

"We haven't done anything!" I said, tilting my head at her. There was something vaguely familiar about her but I couldn't quite place her just yet.

"We're having the police on you! Me and my husband - as soon as he is my husband - we're gonna sue the living backsides off ya!" There was a satisfied smile on her face after making her threat and that's when I remembered!

"Wait a minute, you were there," I pointed slowly but a few seconds later I was practically stabbing my finger in the air. "You saved me from that Auton!"

"That what?" she raised an eye brow, apparently having no idea what I was talking about.

"It's you. You told me he'd be here. And..." I looked at the Doctor, "I guess she meant you."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

"Yeah, I have to agree this time," the Doctor nodded, not that I was listening to him much.

"But it's you!" I walked for the woman instead. "You talked about a 'hot knife' not being as awesome as a screwdriver and no one else has a sonic screwdriver!"

"Stay away from me!" she backed away.

"Maybe it just hasn't happened yet," I whispered to myself, thinking logically. If that woman knew about the sonic screwdriver then it meant that she knew the Doctor, but that clearly wasn't the case right now. It had to be in her future. "Time travel..."

"You're insane!" she turned and ran for the doors.

The Doctor watched her open the doors and walked for her once she halted in awe, "You're in space. Outer space. This is my...space ship. It's called the TARDIS."

"How am I breathing?"

"The TARDIS is protecting us."

"Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor," he gestured to himself and this is my friend, "Joy, sorry, Minerva," he smiled apologetically. It would take getting used to but he was making the effort.

"I'm Donna."

"Human?" the Doctor looked her over.

"Yeah...is that optional?"

"Well...it is for me."

"You're an alien..." she stated, the idea suddenly hitting her.

"Yeah. I just don't understand any of this," he started walking back for the console, "This can't happen. There's no way a human being can lock itself onto the TARDIS and transport itself inside," he started jumping around, full of energy. He began rambling things that I couldn't comprehend and much less Donna. He held up an Opthalmoscope to Donna's face, "Some sort of subatomic connection? Something in the temporal field? Maybe something pulling you into alignment with the Chronon shell. Maybe something macro mining your DNA within the interior matrix. Maybe a genetic-" Donna slapped him, making him stumble back.

I giggled but kept my distance from the two. I didn't want to be next on that list!

"What was that for!?" cried the Doctor, holding a hand to his cheek.

"Get me to the church!" Donna screamed.

He let go of his contraption and hurried to the controls, "Fine! I don't want you here anyway! Where is this wedding?"

"Saint Mary's, Hayden Road, Chiswick, London, England, Earth, the Solar System, " she stopped her pacing by a rail, "I knew it. Acting all innocent,"' she turned around and held one of Rose's blouses, "I'm not the first, am I?" she strode over to the Doctor, fuming, "How many have you abducted?" the Doctor's gaze fell to the console, "Has he got you abducted too!?" she looked at me, "Tell me if he does and I swear we'll get him-"

"No! No!" I shook my head, shaking my hands for emphasis, "I'm not abducted. And neither are you. No one is abducted!"

"This is yours then?" she gestured to the blouse.

"No, that's...that's our friend's blouse." The phrase 'our friend' was being used very loosely here.

"Where is she then? Popped out for a space walk?"

"She's gone," the Doctor replied, quietly.

"Gone where?"

"I lost her..."

"Well you can hurry up and lose me!" Donna shouted. She studied the Doctor who had grown quiet and still, realizing it was a touchy subject, "How do you mean, lost?"

The Doctor looked up from the console and started marching up to Donna with quite a dark face; it almost looked scary. He snatched Rose's blouse from Donna's hand then went for the doors, "Chiswick."

Donna quickly rushed out, holding the sides of her wedding dress and hurrying into the street. I hurried after her, knowing just how well the Doctor's piloting skills were. Sure enough, Donna was pretty peeved to find she was in another location.

"I said 'Saint Mary's!" she yelled, "What sort of Martian are you? Where's this?"

The Doctor was stroking the TARDIS, almost obliviously, "Something's wrong with her. Like...she's re-calibrating," he suddenly rushed back inside, "She's digesting!" and I could see him going around the console in a rush, "Donna?" he called out, "You've really gotta think. Is there anything that might've caused this?"

But the ginger seemed too preoccupied...with the TARDIS. She was finally realizing the actual size of its exterior and well, she started rounding it in bewilderment.

"Anything you might've done? Any sort of alien contacts? I can't let you go wandering off in case your dangerous. I mean, have you...have you seen lights in the sky? Or...did you touch something? Something, something different? Something strange? Something made out of a sort of metal or...who're you getting married to? Donna?"

She stepped back, glancing at me for reassurance she hadn't just imagined its exterior. I nodded, "It's okay."

"Donna?" the Doctor called again, oblivious to what was going on out here, "Are you sure he's human? He's not a bit overweight with a zip around his forehead, is he?"

Donna placed a hand over her mouth, utterly shocked and afraid, "No!" she dashed past me.

"Donna!" I called after her, glancing back to the Doctor, "Doctor! Donna's left!"

"What?" he ran outside and passed me as well, "Donna!"

"Oh, thanks!" I frowned, trying to catch up in the menace called heels. When I caught up, they were around the corner of a street, Donna looking around.

"Leave me alone," she ordered, "I just want to get married."

"Come back to the TARDIS," the Doctor said.

"No way. That box is too...weird," She did a slight shiver.

"It's just bigger on the inside, that's all."

"Oh that's all?" she mimicked his calm tone then looked at her watch, "Ten past three! I'm gonna miss it!"

"You can phone them. Tell them where you are," the Doctor suggested. I started looking around for a pay phone on the street.

"How do I do that?"

"Haven't you got a mobile?"

Donna and I turned back to him, and just...stared. Was he serious? Well, judging by his clueless face, the answer was a yes!

"I'm in my wedding dress," Donna began, and you could easily tell she would be doing some yelling in a moment, "It doesn't have pockets! Who has pockets? Have you ever seen a bride with pockets? When I went to my fitting, do you think I said, 'Alison, the one thing I forgot to say is give me pockets'!?"

The Doctor blinked, "This man you're marrying...what's his name?"

She smiled at the mention, "Lance."

"Good luck Lance."

I whacked his arm, "Not funny."

"No stupid Martians are gonna stop me from getting married. To hell with you two!" she yelled then ran off.

I frowned, slightly offended, "I'm not Martian."

"I'm not from Mars," the Doctor said feebly.

"Well we can't leave her alone, can we?" I said then ran after Donna.

"Taxi!" Donna was calling on the streets.

"Look, another one!" the Doctor pointed, running after it but to no avail.

"Taxi!" Donna and I called but with no results.

"There's one!" I pointed. We must have called for a dozen taxis but none would stop, "This is like New York all over again!" I sighed.

"Do you have this effect on everyone?" the Doctor looked to Donna, "Why aren't they stopping?"

"They think I'm in fancy dress," Donna gestured to her wedding dress.

"Stay off the scotch darling!" a passing taxi driver shouted.

"They think I'm drunk," Donna frowned.

"You're fooling no one, mate!" another car shouted as they passed.

"They think I'm in drag,"" Donna threw her head back, exasperated.

"Hold on, hold on," I put my fingers between my mouth and whistled like I've never whistled before, succeeding in stopping a taxi in front of us.

"Nice," the Doctor praised as Donna quickly got in.

"Thanks. One more thing you don't know about me," I smiled, "I've been on the road and you gotta learn how to have a heck of a whistle to get around."

"Saint Mary's in Chiswick, just off Hayden Road," Donna was instructing as we got in, "It's an emergency, I'm getting married!"

And we began driving off, "You know it'll cost you, sweetheart? Double rates today," the driver replied.

'Oh my god! Do you have any money?" Donna glanced at us.

"Uh..." I looked to the Doctor, "I told you I lost all my money."

"What about you?" he asked Donna.

"Pockets!?" Donna gestured to her dress.

And the taxi came to halt right there. As the Doctor and I climbed out, Donna got into a full argument with the driver...some very...interesting words being said.

"And that goes double for your mother!" Donna yelled, slamming the door of the taxi, "I'll have him. I've got his number. I'll have him. Talk about the Christmas Spirit."

"It's Christmas?" I blinked, suddenly taking in a few of the decorations on the street.

"Maybe not on Mars but here it's Christmas Eve."

"Hey?" I clapped my hands, grabbing her attention, "Not Martian. Not alien," I pointed to myself, "Human."

"Oh...hello," she smiled, as if that made it all the better. I almost laughed if the situation wasn't so rushed.

"Look, a phone box," the Doctor pointed.

"Oh thank goodness! We can reverse the charges!" Donna dashed for it.

"How come you're getting married on Christmas Eve?" the Doctor questioned her.

"Can't bear it. I hate Christmas. Honeymoon in Morocco. Sunshine: lovely."

"You don't like Christmas?" I frowned. How could anybody hate Christmas!?

"Nope," she opened the doors of the phone box, "What's the operator? I've not done this in years!"

"Just...just call the direct," the Doctor used the screwdriver on the phone.

"What did you do?" Donna demanded, her voice rising in volume.

The Doctor looked around, "Something...Martian. Now, phone! We'll get money!"

I giggled as we ran to a cash machine, "So, you're Martian now?"

"Shut up," he muttered.

"Okay...Martian," I giggled again, making him sigh, "You know, I like the sound of that..."

He quickly saw where my thoughts were headed and shook his head, "Don't you dare."

We waited in the line for this annoyingly slow man in front of us. While the Doctor started hopping from one foot to the other in his impatience, I started looking around. I noticed a few masked Santa's that were playing trumpets. I tilted my head, studying them, feeling like they were looking straight at me. I took a step forwards, not taking my eyes off them.

"What are you looking at?" I mumbled, remembering the last ones from our last Christmas.

"Minerva!" the Doctor exclaimed, suddenly pausing to smile at himself, "Hey, I got it right this time."

"Good for you, now focus!"

"Right, I've got it," he pulled me back towards Donna.

"But Doctor, look!" I pointed to the Santas and he stopped running to look, "Didn't we see those Santa's last year?"

He remained quiet, obviously remembering them, "C'mon," he pulled me again.

"Oi! Thanks for nothing!" Donna's yell turned us back, "See you in court, spaceman!"

My eyes widened when I saw her driver was a masked Santa, "Doctor, look...again!"

"Donna!" he shouted but she had already left. He looked back to the Santas and saw they had their trumpets as weapons, "Get ready to run," he pointed the sonic at the cash machine and made all the money fly everywhere in the street. As the people scurried to get the money, we ran back to the TARDIS.

"But what do they want now?" I said, frantically pacing back and forth while he worked on the console, "I thought we got rid of them last Christmas! And are they after Donna?" I stopped pacing and turned to him, my rambles getting the best of me, "What do they want now? What are they doing here? And what does Donna have to do with them?"

"I don't know Rose!" he shouted distractedly, "Now shush!"

I froze, my eyes blinking rapidly. He looked up, just now donning on him what he had said.

"M-Minerva, I'm..." He stood straight, "I'm sor-"

"Funny, I don't recall having a third name," I spat, forcing myself to focus on the problem with Donna, "Let's get the ginger back," I walked up to the console, hanging on.

He stared, probably feeling bad but not as bad as I felt. Quietly, he got back to work. Out of the no where, sparks started flying from the console.

"Woah!" I pulled back.

"Behave!" the Doctor hit the console with a hammer.

"Because that's gonna help?" I yelled, raising an eyebrow, "And where'd you even get a hammer from?"

The shakes became even more violent as we hurried to catch up to the bride.

The Doctor attached some string to the console, "Hang on!" He placed the string between his teeth and headed for the door.

I watched as he opened the door, revealing the highway, "Please tell me you're not gonna jump..."

"A certain ginger will," he mumbled before shouting out to her, "Donna, open the door!" I could only see a somewhat view with him blocking the way, "You've gotta jump!" Donna yelled something back, but I couldn't make it out, "Listen to me, you've got to jump! Whatever that thing is, it needs you. And whatever it needs you for, it's not good. Now come on!"

I moved alongside the the console, seeing Donna getting ready to jump from the car.

"Trust me," the Doctor said, much calmer now.

"Is that you said to her? Your friend?" Donna was asking, "Did she trust you?"

"Yes, she did. And she is not dead. She is so alive! Now jump!"

And with that, she did. Donna jumped and landed on top of the Doctor. I half smiled, returning my gaze to the console, rubbing it and silently apologizing for the Doctor's rudeness with a hammer...not that she could understand me anyways, but the thought counts!

~0~

Donna and I sat on the edge of building's roof, our legs dangling millions of feet up above the ground. The Doctor was trying to bring down the smoke coming from the TARDIS.

"Did we miss it?" I asked Donna as she was checking her watch. She looked so disappointed my heart almost broke for her. It was supposed to be the happiest day of her life and...she was spending it with a stranger, an alien, and a smokey box.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter."

But I knew it did. Those were my words that I used when things most certainly did matter.

"We'd better give her a few hours," the Doctor walked over to us.

"We missed it," I told him, looking straight ahead. I was still a little edgy since his little mix up with the names. I know it wasn't the time or place, but I was fairly annoyed.

"Oh...sorry," he took a seat beside Donna, putting her in between us, "Well, you can book another date..."

"Course we can," Donna said, absently.

"Still got the honeymoon," I added.

"It's just a holiday now."

"Sorry..." the Doctor said.

"It's not your fault."

"Oh! That's a change!" he exclaimed.

"Wish we had a time machine...then we could go back and get it right," she sighed.

"Yeah...but...even if I did, I couldn't go back on someone's personal timeline...apparently," he shrugged off his jacket and placed it around Donna.

"God you're skinny," she frowned, trying to close the jacket around her, "This wouldn't fit a rat."

"Oh and you'd better put this on," he handed her a ring.

"Oh, do you have to rub it in?" she said, sadly.

"Those creatures can trace you. This is a bio damper; should keep you hidden," he slid the ring on her finger, "With this ring, I thee bio-damp."

"For better or for worse," Donna went along, "So, come on then. Robot Santa, what are they for?"

"Basic robo scavenger. The Father Christmas stuff is just a disguise. They're trying to blend in. We met them last Christmas."

"Why, what happened then?"

"Great big spaceship? Hovering London? You didn't notice?" the Doctor raised an eye brow.

"I had a bit of a hang over," she shrugged.

"Right...Well, we spent Christmas Day just over there, the Powell Estate. With this...family," he grew quiet, "My friend, she had this family. Well, they were..." he paused, just staring ahead, "Still...gone now."

Donna noticed the change of attitude and so turned to me, "So what's the story with you?"

"Me? What do you mean?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Well, dressed like that...got a hot date?"

I looked down to my professional clothing and sighed. Funny how things could change so quickly. A few hours ago I was talking to Mickey about how nervous I was to tell the Doctor about Torchwood...and now Mickey was gone again, probably for good this time. "No...it's for my job." I looked up, sighing again when I realized I was back to zero again. I didn't have a penny to my name. "I had this job..."

"With those heels? What kind of job was it?"

I glanced at her, smiling at her thoughts, "I worked for Torchwood," she clearly never heard of it as well, "Boss was kind of demanding with attire. Doesn't matter now though, she's gone...it's all gone."

"What about you?" the Doctor asked her, clearly wanting to change topics, "I'd like to know what camouflaged robot mercenaries want with you. And how did you get inside the TARDIS?" Donna rolled her eyes and shook her head, "What's your job?" he took out his screwdriver from the jacket.

"I'm a secretary."

"It's weird, I mean..." he started scanning her, "You're not special, you're not powerful, you're not connected, you're not clever, you're not important-"

"This friend of yours, just before she left, did she punch you in the face?" Donna snapped, whacking the screwdriver away, "Stop bleeping me!"

"What kind of secretary?" I asked, trying to relieve her irritation of him.

"I'm at HC Clements. It's where I met Lance. I was temping. It was a bit posh really. I'd spend the last two years at a double glazing firm. Well, I though, I'm never gonna fit in here. And then..." she paused, a great smile spreading across her face, "He made me a coffee. That just doesn't happen. Nobody gets secretaries a coffee. Lance! He's the head of HR. He don't need to bother with me...but he was nice...and he was funny," she shrugged happily, "It turned out he thought everyone else was really snotty too. So that's how it started, me and him- one cup of coffee. That was it."

"When was that?"

"Six months ago."

"Bit quick to get married..." the Doctor remarked.

"Well...he insisted," Donna rolled her eyes, "He nagged and nagged. He just wore me down and I finally gave in."

"What does HC Clements do?"

"Security systems, you know...entry codes, ID Cards. If you ask me, it's a posh name for 'locksmiths'."

I smiled, "Keys?"

"Enough of my CV. Come on, it's time to face the consequences. Oh, this is gonna be so shaming. You can do the explaining, Martian boy."

"Yeah, I'm not from Mars," the Doctor shook his head. He stood up and held out his hand, "C'mon."

"Oh, I had this great big reception all planned. Everyone's gonna be heartbroken," Donna sighed.

I stood up on my own and walked for the TARDIS, "I've never been to a wedding before. Well, one that I've wanted to anyways. My parents always dragged me to these important ones "

"Don't like your family?" Donna asked.

I sighed, "Let's just see yours instead."

~0~

Unfortunately for Donna, the reception seemed pretty lively when we entered..even on the account of the missing bride. One by one, the guests began noticing us and stopped dancing (and having fun). Finally, the music was cut to leave us as the center of attention.

"You had the reception without me?" Donna crossed her arms. I didn't know her very well, but I was pretty sure that in a few seconds she would burst from anger.

"Donna...what happened to ya?" a man stepped forwards.

Donna had a death glare I would not want to be caught on, "You had...the reception...without me?" her voice grew louder and no one answered her. She glanced at the Doctor and I, "They had the reception without me."

"Yes, we gathered," the Doctor nodded.

"Well, it was all paid for, why not?" a woman asked.

"Thank you, Nerys," Donna snapped.

"Well, what we were supposed to do?" an older woman walked for Donna, "I got your silly little message in the end, 'I'm on Earth'? Very funny. What the hell happened? How did you do it? What's the trick because I'd love to know."

The whole room began speaking at once. Poor Donna just looked on from one face to the other, probably getting overwhelmed. Suddenly, she burst into tears, making the babbling die down. The man, I assumed to be Lance, went to hug her and soon everyone applauded. On a turn, Donna winked at us.

"Oh she's good," I smirked.

It didn't take much to get the party back on. The music blared up and people begun their dancing. Even I was reeled into the dance floor by Donna. I felt a little bad leaving the Doctor back but, I didn't really know what to say to him. In any case, he didn't seem to want to dance. He had moved himself to the bar and just stared at us. I felt like he was staring at me most of the time, probably thinking I had already forgotten the others by the few laughter's I had given. It just seemed like we had different ways of remembering. Mickey wouldn't want me to be sad and isolating myself. I had to keep moving on. Though I suppose maybe it was a different story for the Doctor and Rose, seeing their feelings were a bit stronger than just friendship. He'd probably take more to heal. But I had to admit, the way he was staring, I couldn't help think he was seeing in me the ghost of a girl who was no longer here.

"What's the matter, love?" the young man I was dancing with snatched me out of my thoughts, "Don't like the music?"

"It's good," I nodded, smiling.

He grabbed my hands and pulled me forwards and back, making me laugh, "You're a good dancer!"

"Thanks, so are you!"

"Oi? American?"

I nodded, "Yeah!" I felt a hand on my arm pull me back. I looked back and saw the Doctor, "What are you-"

"It's important," he pulled me out of the dance floor.

"Oi, I was dancing back-"

"Huon Particles."

"What?"

"I'm assuming you know what that is, as HC Clements was part of Torchwood's properties."

I blinked, "Oh..."

"What does Torchwood have to do with this?" he demanded, actually seeming angry.

"Woah, woah, woah, you should not be using that tone with me. You're not on my good side right now," I warned, crossing my arms. "You know what my name is right?"

He sighed, "I'm sorry. It was in the heap of a moment and-"

"Yeah, I know, you're so used to her," I rolled my eyes, "Anyways, I knew Torchwood had acquired separate lands. I just didn't know HC Clements was one. I don't remember it..."

"Yeah, well bigger problem is Huon Particles are very old..."

"Meaning...?"

"It can't be hidden," he turned to Donna.

"Uh oh," my eyes widened. We rushed to a window and peered out. Sure enough, there stood the fake santas, "What do we do?"

"Donna!" He shouted, running for her, "Donna, they've found you!"

While they spoke, I rushed for the door. Hopefully, we'd make a clean escape. I opened it and found two fake santas. I frowned, seeing our way blocked off, "Screw you!" I ran back to Donna and the Doctor, "Back door...not the way to go."

We hurried to the window and saw the Santas now held a remote.

"What are they gonna do?" Donna asked.

"Christmas trees," the Doctor glanced to the big one they had in the room, "Get away from the tree!" he shouted to the guests, "Don't touch the trees!"

"Oh for God's sakes, the man's an idiot," Donna's mother yelled. "What's a Christmas tree gonna...oh!"

The large tree's decorative spheres were floating away from it and moving over the heads of the guests. Suddenly, they began dropping and making small explosions around the room. We took cover but the Doctor ran for the DJ's spot.

"Oi! Santa!" He called, "Word of advice: if you're attacking a man with a sonic screwdriver..." he spoke into the microphone, "Don't let him near the sound system," he held the screwdriver to the amplifiers and caused an eerie screech from them.

We covered our ears and watched as the Santas fell into pieces on the floor. When it stopped, we stood from our hiding places and looked around. Mostly everyone crowded around the dismantled santas on the floor.

I walked to the Doctor, still getting my ears to work again. He held out a console to me, "Look at that, remote control for the decorations."

"But that means there's another remote control," I said, taking hold of it, "For the robots, I mean."

"They're not scavengers anymore. I think someone's taken possession."

"Oi, you two," Donna walked over to us, "People have been hurt and you're a doctor."

"Nah, they wanted you alive, look," he threw her a sphere, "They're not active now."

"All I'm saying is you could help."

"Gotta think of the bigger picture..." he fiddled with the device. He wasn't even listening, "There's still a signal!" and he ran off.

I looked to Donna, "Sorry," and I ran after him.

"There's someone behind this," he explained as we hurried outside.

"But who?"

"And why are they following me? What have I done?" Donna caught up with us.

"If we find the controller, we'll find that out. Oh!" he raised his screwdriver into the air, "It's up there! Something in the sky!"

"When isn't there, honestly?"

"And now I've lost the signal," he put his arm down, "Donna we've got to get to your office, HC Clements. I think that's where it all started."

"Lance can give us a lift," Donna quickly offered as Lance himself ran out of the building.

~0~

When we arrived at HC Clements, the Doctor hurriedly went to Donna's office and her computer, "This might just be a locksmiths but HC CLements was brought up 23 years ago by the Torchwood Institute."

"Isn't that where you worked?" Donna pointed at me, "Exactly who are they?"

"They were behind the battle of Canary Wharf," I sighed but Donna remained strangely quiet. I looked up to see her in an oblivious state, "Cyberman invasion..." I tried but she was still quiet... "Skies over London filled with horrid Daleks?"

"Oh I was in Spain," She waved me off.

"They had Cybermen in Spain," I smiled softly.

"Scuba diving."

I shook my head, very amused by this ginger.

"Okay you two are missing the big picture!" the Doctor exclaimed, running to a new computer, "Torchwood was destroyed but HC Clements stayed in business. I think...someone else came in and took over the operation."

"But what do they want with me?" Donna put a hand over her chest, "I haven't done anything.

He turned around and faced her, "Somehow you've been dosed with Huon energy. And that's a big problem because Huon energy hasn't existed since the Dark times. The only place you'd fine those particles now is a remnant in the heart of the TARDIS. See?" he grabbed a mug and a pencil, "Say, this is the TARDIS," he held the mug, "And this is you," he gestured to the pen, "The particles inside you activated. The two sets of particles magnetized and WHAP!" he threw pencil inside the mug, "You were pulled inside the TARDIS."

"I'm a pencil inside a mug?" Donna questioned, clearly not liking the idea.

"Yes, you are. 4H. Sums you up. Lance?" the Doctor called, "What was HC Clements working on? Anything top secret? Special operations? Do not enter?"

"I don't know, I'm in charge of personnel. I wasn't project manager," Lance said, quite on the defense.

I rolled my eyes and sat on the desk the Doctor had been at with the computer and began searching for the map of the building.

"Why am I even explaining myself?" Lance exclaimed, "What the hell are we talking about?"

"Shut up," I snapped, causing them to turn to me, "If you'd all quit your yapping you'd see there's something terribly wrong here."

"Like what? Besides everything else..." Donna said sadly.

"Doctor you've seen it, and I know Torchwood like the back of my hand," I pointed to the map on the screen, "We're on the third floor and Torchwood always lied about its floor plans."

He nodded and walked for the elevator, "There's a basement underneath the reception area, yes?"

"Yes," I stood up from my seat and followed him, "But..."

"But if you look on the lift, there's a button marked 'lower basement'," he finished my thought as he took a look on the buttons of the elevator.

"Whole floor that doesn't exist on the official plans. Typical Torchwood," I rolled my eyes, having seen enough building plans from Yvonne's computer.

"You're telling me this building's got a secret floor?" Lance walked towards us with Donna.

"No, we're showing you."

"It needs a key," Donna said.

"No we don't," the Doctor sonicked the elevator, "Right then, thanks you two, but we can handle it from here. See you later."

"No chance, Martian," Donna stepped inside, "You're the man who keeps saving my life and I ain't letting you out of my sight."

"Going down!" I exclaimed.

"Lance?" Donna used an authoritative tone.

"Maybe I should go to the police..." he backed away.

"Inside. Now," she pointed. He quickly joined us and stood beside her.

"To honor and obey?" the Doctor asked him.

"Tell me about it, mate."

"Oi!" Donna exclaimed. I bit down my chuckle, earning a mock-glare for a second, "Like to get married?"

"No thank you. I can make them obey me without the wedding dress," I replied proudly, crossing my arms.

The elevator opened up to a dark corridor that was slightly illuminated by a green light.

"What goes down here?" Donna looked around.

"Let's find out," the Doctor stepped out.

"Do you think Mr. Clements knows about this place?"

"The mysterious HC Clements? I think he's part of it," he looked around, "Oh, look, transport!"

"Oh, no thank you," I said when I saw what had caught his eye.

"Electric scooters?" Donna trailed after the Doctor, "In my wedding dress?"

"Forget that, I have heels," I pointed.

"Women," the Doctor muttered to Lance.

Donna and I glanced at each other, ready to smack both of them.

"If you two are so worried over your attire, we'll gladly come back for you," the Doctor said, hopping onto one of the scooters.

"You'd like that wouldn't you," I walked over to him, placing a hand over my hip, "But you're forgetting I'm the one with the Torchwood knowledge so you need me."

"Then I suggest you hop on so we can get going," he smiled sweetly.

I sighed annoyed, and went around to step on, "If you drop me you are more than dead, do you hear me? Regeneration will not be enough to fix you!"

"Loud and clear!" he exclaimed excitedly as he made us go.

We strode down the corridors, somehow and for whatever reason, we burst into laughter. All except Lance of course who didn't seem to be so amused.

"Look!" I pointed to a 'Torchwood: Authorized personnel only' sign. I tugged on the Doctor's sleeve, "Stop here!" He stopped and I jumped off, hurriedly going for the door, "Wonder what's up here."

"I say let's go in," the Doctor said, already moving to open the door up.

"Ah, ah," I waved my index finger, "Don't you see?" I gestured to the sign, "Torchwood Personnel only. And you sir, are not Torchwood Personnel."

"Hm," he mock glared then turned the wheel on the door, opening it. There was a ladder on the other side of the door. He looked back, a slight smirk on his face, "I don't suppose you'd like to climb a ladder with a skirt would you?" I glared, crossing my arms. He leaned closer, "Hmm?"

"Don't push me today, alien," I warned, setting him back a little, "Go ahead."

He started up for the ladder and called back, "Don't go anywhere!"

"Couldn't if I tried, you're my ride!" I yelled as he went up, earning a laugh.

"What's he doing?" Donna walked over to me.

"Gonna see what's up," I pointed up, "Literally."

"He's coming back, right?"

"He better."

She smiled, "Good."

He returned a couple of minutes later, "Thames floor barrier! Right on top of us!" he jumped from the ladder to the ground, "Your little institute snuck in and built this place underneath!" He pointed to me.

"Yvonne didn't tell me about that..." I frowned.

"So there's a secret base hidden underneath a major London landmark?" Donna asked.

"I know! Unheard of," the Doctor started walking, us following, and soon led us into a lab, "Oh look at this! Stunning! Particle extrusion!"

"And what does it do?" Donna questioned.

"Particle extrusion. Hold on..." the Doctor rushed to a bubbling tube, "Brilliant. They've been manufacturing Huon particles. In case my people got rid of Huons, they unraveled the atomic structure."

"You're people...?" I asked. He never told me about them and I'd love to know about them.

"They're rebuilding them! They've been using the river!" the Doctor continued his ramble, "Extruding them through a flat hydrogen base so they've got the end result: Huon particles in liquid form."

"And that's what's inside me?" Donna questioned as he raised up a small test tube.

He turned a knob on top of the tube and made the liquid turn gold...as well as Donna. I clasped my hand over my mouth, keeping my gasp muffled.

"Oh my god!" Donna cried, looking down at herself.

"Because the particles are inert, they need something living to catalyze inside and that's you," the Doctor pointed, "Saturate the body and then...HA!" he suddenly shouted, making Donna jump, "What's the happiest day of a human being?"

"Oh! The wedding!" I pointed, excitedly, beginning to understand.

"Exactly!" he nodded, "And you, Donna Noble, are getting married! That's it! Best day of your life, walking down the aisle, oh you're a body's a battleground! There's a chemical war inside! Adrenaline, acetylcholine, WHAM go the endorphins, oh you're cooking!" Again, he made Donna jump, "Yeah, you're like a walking oven! A pressure cooker, a microwave, all churning away, the particles reach boiling point, SHAZAM!"

And she slapped him...again.

This time, I let out a laugh, and a loud one.

"What did I do this time!?" the Doctor cried, stumbling back and rubbing his face again.

"Are you enjoying this?" Donna snapped.

He looked down, ashamed, "Sorry."

"Just tell me," She walked up to him, "These particles...are they dangerous? Am I safe?"

"...Yes."

"Doctor, if your lot got rid of Huon particles...why did they do that?"

"Because they were deadly..."

Donna gasped lightly, "Oh my god!

"I'll sort it out, Donna. Whatever's been done to you, I'll reverse it. I'm not about to lose someone else," he put his hands on her shoulders.

Suddenly, we heard crashing and bangs from all around the room. We looked around and saw a wall sliding up.

"Oh, she is long since lost," a raspy voice filled the room.

The moving wall revealed to us a round, deep hole in the floor and, slowly, we approached it. I couldn't help but notice Lance had slipped out of the room. Of course, I didn't believe it to be that important. Poor guy was probably just scared.

"I have waited so long, hibernating at the edge of the universe..." the voice continued, "Until the secret heart was uncovered and called out to waken!"

"This is very Torchwood," I remarked, looking down into the dark hole.

"How far down does it go?" the Doctor questioned.

"Down and down, all the way to the center of the Earth!"

"What for?" I raised an eye brow.

"Dinosaurs?" Donna tried.

"What are you on about, dinosaurs?" the Doctor turned to her.

"That film, Under the Earth, with dinosaurs. Trying to help!"

"That's not helping," he said serious, shaking his head.

"Such sweet couple," the voice remarked.

"Only a madman talks to thin air and trust me, you don't want to make me mad," the Doctor looked around, "Where are you?"

"High in the sky, floating so high on Christmas Night."

"I didn't come all this way to talk on the intercom! Come on, let's have a look at you!"

"Who are you with such command?"

"I'm the Doctor."

"Prepare your best medicines, doctor man, for you will be sick at heart."

Then, out of the no where, appeared a gigantic, red...spider...? It growled at us but didn't come forth.

"The Racnoss...but that's impossible, you're one of the Racnoss!" the Doctor looked that thing over and over in awe.

"Empress of the Racnoss."

"It's just her?" I raised an eye brow, "Where's the rest of her kind? Or is she the only one? You are, aren't you?"

"Such a sharp mind for a human."

"The Racnoss come from the Dark Times, billions of years ago..." the Doctor explained, "They were carnivores, omnivores, they devoured whole planets."

"Racnoss are born starving, is that our fault?" the Empress snarled.

"They eat people?" Donna questioned.

"H C Clements, did he wear those...um...black and white shoes?" the Doctor asked her.

"He did!" Donna nodded, "We used to laugh, we used to call him the fat cat in spats!"

The Doctor pointed to the ceiling where we could see a pair of black and white shoes sticking out from a web. My mouth hung open.

"Oh my god!" Donna cried.

"Mm, my Christmas dinner," the Empress laughed.

"But you shouldn't exist," the Doctor yelled, "Way back in history, the Fledgling Empires went to war against the Racnoss, they were wiped out."

"Except for me," she said, proudly.

"But that's what I've got inside me, that Huron energy thing!" Donna exclaimed, "Oi! Look at me, lady, I'm talking. Where do I fit in? Oi! Look at me, you! Look me in the eye and tell me!" Lance was slowly creeping up behind the empress with a large axe in his hand.

"The bride is so feisty!" the Empress looked Donna over.

"Yes, I am. And I don't know what you are you big...thing! But a spider's just a spider and an axe is an axe! Now, do it!" Donna yelled to Lance.

And he swung the axe but suddenly stopped a few inches away from the empress. Both of them began to laugh while staring at Donna.

"That was a good one. Your face," Lance said to the empress, imitating her.

"Lance is funny," the empress turned to us again.

"What?" Donna looked from one to the other.

"I'm sorry..." the Doctor said, quietly.

"Oh that..." I began frowning, wanting to kill both of them for their cruel plan.

"Sorry for what?" Donna asked, still not getting it, "Lance, don't be so stupid. Get her!"

Lance looked at Donna, giving a sarcastic pout, "God, she's thick. Months I had to put up with her. Months. A woman who can't even point to Germany on a map."

"I don't understand..." Donna said, feeling slightly offended.

"How did you meed him?" the Doctor asked her.

"In the office..."

"He made you coffee..."

"What?" Donna looked to Lance.

"Every day, I made you coffee," Lance spat, "Duh?"

"You had to be dosed with liquid particles over six months."

"He was poisoning me?"

"It was all there in the job title: the Head of Human Resources," the Doctor gritted his teeth.

"This time, it's personnel," Lance said before going into a fit of laughter with the empress.

I glared, "You bastard."

"Oi, careful with that tongue little girl," he stopped for a moment.

"But...we were getting married," Donna said, trying to wrap her mind around the idea.

Lance smirked, "Well I couldn't risk you running off. I had to say yes! And then I was stuck with a woman who thinks the height of excitement is a new flavor Pringle. Oh I had to sit there and listen to all that yap, yap, yap-'Oh, Brad and Angelina-is Posh pregnant?' X Factor, Atkins Diet, Feng Shui, split ends, text me, text me, text me, dear God, the never ending fountain of fat, stupid trivia!" Donna only stared, her eyes close to tears, "I deserve a medal."

"So what are you then?" the Doctor yelled, "The Empress' consort?"

"It's better than a night with her," he made a face as he glanced at Donna again.

"But I love you..." Donna feebly.

"That's what made it easy," Lance cackled, "It's like you said, Doctor-the big picture-what's the point of it all if the Human Race is nothing? That's what the Empress can give me. The chance to go out there and to see it. The size of all. I think you understand that, don't you, Doctor?"

"You're not getting any of that," I spoke up, earning his attention.

"Oh, and why is that?"

"...because you're gonna end up dead tonight anyways," I said flatly, even shrugging for casualness, "Either that spider over there is gonna betray you, or you just gonna do something stupid and die. Either way, you've seen the last of your days."

"Who is this girl?" the Empress questioned, looking me over before glancing at the Doctor, "And the little physician?"

"What she said, Martian. That one is human," Lance replied, pointing to each of us.

"The big point here is, what's down there?" the Doctor moved along the hole again, "The Racnoss are extinct. What's gonna help you four thousand miles down?"

"I think he wants us to talk," Lance glanced at the Empress, "That's tough! All we need is Donna!"

"Well tough for you because you're not having her!" I yelled.

"Oh my god you're so annoying!" Lance snapped, "Didn't your parents ever teach you not to speak until your spoken to?"

"Sorry, it doesn't apply to spiders and trash."

"Kill her as well," the Empress ordered.

I rolled my eyes, "Because this is the first time people want to kill me?"

"At arms!"

"Ah, now, except..." the Doctor remained calm, letting me know there was a plan coming up, "I'd like to point out the obvious..."

Donna and I gathered around him as the guards came closer.

"They won't hit the bride. They're such very good shots." the Empress assured.

"If you think about it," the Doctor continued, "The particles activated in Donna and drew her inside my spaceship. So reverse it...the spaceship comes to her!" He turned the knob on the test tube from earlier, making Donna glow again.

"Fire!" the Empress yelled.

But the TARDIS was already around us.

"Off we go!" the Doctor exclaimed, dashing for the console, "Donna, remember what I said before about time machines? Well, I lied. And now we're gonna use it," he sent us shaking again.

He hadn't noticed Donna was crying. She stood with her back to us and silently wept. When the TARDIS stopped the shakes, I walked over to her.

"I don't know how much help a 17 year old girl can be for a heart broken bride but...maybe when she has a Martian for a friend I could be somewhat..." I brought her to the doors. I didn't even know what was on the other side of the doors but right now, I didn't care.

"No human's ever seen this," the Doctor joined us, "You two will be the first."

"All I want to see is my bed," Donna muttered.

"Welcome to the creation of the Earth," he opened the door for us. We both gasped at the beautiful, colorful sight, "We've gone back 4.6 billion years. There's no solar system, not yet. Only dust and rocks and gas. That's the Sun over there, brand new. Just beginning to burn."

"Where's the Earth?" Donna looked around.

"All around us...in the dust."

"Puts the wedding in perspective. Lance was right. We're just...tiny."

"Well, we progress," I shrugged.

"It's what you do," the Doctor nodded, "The Human race...making sense out of chaos. Marking it out with weddings and Christmas and calendars, This whole process is beautiful, but only if it's being observed."

"So, we came out of all this?" Donna asked.

"Isn't that brilliant?"

"Very..." I whispered, looking around. I hadn't seen anything like this since the very first trip Rose and I took with him. It made me miss the traveling a lot more than I really thought I did.

"Eventually, gravity takes hold. Say one big rock that's heavier than the others starts to pull other rocks towards it. The dust and gas and elements get pulled in, everything piling in until you get the..."

"Earth," Donna and I answered together.

"But the question is...what was that first rock?" the Doctor peered out.

"Look," I pointed to a star-shaped rock floating about, "What is that?"

"The Racnoss..." he rushed back inside, "Hold on, the Racnoss are hiding from the war! What's it doing?"

"Just...exactly what you said," I replied, "Everything's being pulled in by the rock."

"Means they didn't just bury something at the center of the Earth. They became the center of the Earth. The first rock."

"Oh great, our planet has a nest of spiders," I muttered, closing the doors.

Suddenly, the TARDIS shook and sent us all to the ground.

"What was that?" Donna asked.

"Trouble," the Doctor used the console and pushed himself back up.

The TARDIS continued to shake violently, making it hard for us to keep on our feet.

"What the hell is it doing?" I yelled.

"The trick I pulled...particles pulling particles...it works in reverse and now they're pulling us back!"

"Well can you stop it!?" cried Donna, "Hasn't it got a handbrake? Reverse or warp or beam or something?"

"Backseat driver, oh wait a minute!" he reached underneath the console, "The extrapolator!" he pulled it back up, "Can't stop us but it should give us a good bump!" he began whacking it repeatedly, "Now!" When the TARDIS stopped, he looked up and ran to the doors, "We're about 200 yards to the right now come on!"

"But what do we do?" Donna panted for air as we ran.

We stopped in front of the door with the ladder again, "I don't know! I make it up as I go along! But trust me, I've got a history!" the Doctor pulled up his stethoscope to the door.

"I still don't understand, I'm full of particles but what for?" Donna asked.

"There's a Racnoss web at the center of the Earth but my people unravelled their power source. The Huon particles ceased to exist but the Racnoss are stuck." He explained.

A hand flung over my mouth and pulled me back. Donna was in the same predicament and as the Doctor continued his ramble, we were brought back to the Racnoss as hostages. Wow was that man oblivious.

"Up to the webs you go!" the Empress laughed as we were brought in.

"Oi! Let go of me!" Donna yelled as she brought up.

"And as for you," the Empress looked at me, "I think you'll make a fine snack for my children."

"Oi, listen spider, I refuse to surrender," I rolled my eyes.

"Hm, interesting, you remind me of someone..." she tilted her head.

"Hate to be them if they knew you."

"She had the same word, 'refuse' in her vocabulary. Probably what got her killed in the end," she started laughing again.

"Yeah well I'm not dying, sorry to tell you," I snapped.

"Activate the particles! Purge every last one!" she ordered. I looked up and saw Donna had been placed in the web beside Lance. "And release!" the particles rushed down into the hole, "The secret heart unlocks and they will waken from their sleep of Ages."

"What's down there?" Donna asked.

"How thick are you?" snapped Lance.

"My children, the long lost Racnoss," the Empress replied, "Now will be born to feast on flesh!" Sure enough, the little pitter-patter of spiders were heard from down the hole, as if coming up, "The web star shall come to me!"

"Let me go!" I struggled with the stupid robot clasping my hands together.

"My babies will be hungry! They need sustenance. Perish the web!" the Empress ordered.

"Use them! Not me!" Lance was quick to yell.

"Funny little Lance," the Empress turned to them, "But you are quite impolite to your lady friend. The Empress does not approve."

The web sustaining Lance loosened up and let him fall straight into the hole, "Lance!" Donna cried.

"Told you," I muttered, pausing my struggles for a moment.

"My children are climbing towards me and none shall stop them!" the Empress hissed and turned to a robot standing on a staircase, "So you might as well unmask my clever little Doctor man."

The Doctor removed his cloak and mask and smiled, standing in a staircase rail, "Oh well, nice try. I've got you, Donna!" He used his sonic and made the web loosen just a big.

"I'm gonna fall!" Donna yelled, frantically.

"You're gonna swing! I've got yah!"he held out his arms for her.

She used the web and swung towards him, but unfortunately smashed right into the wall underneath Doctor.

"Oh...sorry," he said with wide eyes.

"Thanks for nothing!" Donna yelled from the floor.

"The doctor man amuses me," the Empress smirked, then turning to me, "The human girl, not so much. Throw her in!"

"What?" my eyes widened as the robots started dragging me towards the hole, "No, wait! Stop!"

"Empress of the Racnoss, I give you one last chance!" the Doctor yelled, "I can find you a planet. A place in the universe to coexist. Take that offer and end this now!"

"Doctor!" I cried as I grew closer to the hole, "Help! Please help me, Doctor!"

"Don't worry, I'm coming Rose!"

My eyes widened, and for a moment, I was struck. He had done it again. Again. And it wasn't the right time or the right place, but it had gotten to me. It really had. I could feel the prickly feeling of tears whelming in my eyes as I neared the hole.

"Minerva I'm so sorry!" he quickly retaliated, "Please! I-I'm sorry!"

"Don't!" I screamed, gritting my teeth, "Just...don't."

"I decline the offer, doctor man," the Empress laughed.

"What happens next is your own doing," he declared, "Relax."

Suddenly, the robot behind me stopped and when I looked around, I saw every single one had done the same. Quickly, I ran away from the hole, keeping a careful eye on the robots.

"What did you do?" Donna asked.

"Guess what I've got? Pockets," he took out a remote control from his inside pocket, waving at Donna.

"How'd that fit in there?" She gasped, intrigued.

"Bigger on the inside."

"My children may feast on Martian flesh," the Empress hissed.

"Oh but I'm not from Mars," he shook his head.

"Then where?"

"My home planet is far away and long since gone. But its name lives on. Gallifrey."

That sent the empress off, "They murdered the Racnoss!"

"I warned you. You did this," the Doctor had a different look now, so cold and rigid. No matter how angry and upset I was with him, I could tell he was worse.

A few baubles were thrown in the air and quickly rushed for the walls and even around the Empress. They began smashing and letting all the water from outside rush in at large. One of them exploded near the Empress' feet and caused a fire. I quickly rushed for the stairs in which Donna was before I was gobbled up by the water.

"My children!" cried the Empress. I looked back and saw the hole being filled with water, "No! My children!"

I joined Donna and as we looked around as the Doctor continued. Donna looked up, almost frightened, "Doctor! You can stop now!"

I looked up and saw he was watching the Racnoss writhe in pain but he showed no emotion. He stood cold and completely unaffected. It almost scared me. I had never really seen him like that and I decided that I never wanted to see that expression on him again. With a sigh, and another bite of my tongue, I called up to him. "Doctor! We should go! Please, listen to me...she'd want you to go!" that made him look down, "You didn't survive to die for a spider...we should go."

"Time I got you out!" he shouted after a moment and so we ran up the stairs.

"But what about the Empress?" Donna asked as we hurried up the ladder.

"She's used up all her Huon energy, she's defenseless!"

We reached the top and the first thing I noticed...the Thames was completely empty now. No water. At all.

"Hey, there's one problem," Donna said, catching her breath.

"What's that?" the Doctor asked.

"We've drained the Thames!"

The two erupted into laughter. I looked away, not wanting my upset face to ruin their fun.

~0~

We materialized in front of Donna's house and led her out into the dark streets, her home across.

The Doctor was pleased the TARDIS was working up again, "She can survive anything," he said, smiling.

"More than I've done," Donna sighed.

He scanned her up and down with the sonic, "All Huon particles have gone. No damage, you're fine."

"Yeah...apart from that..." Donna looked around, "I missed my wedding, lost my job and became a widow on the same day."

"I couldn't save him."

"He deserved it," she pretended to be fine. I gave her a look, making her rethink, "No, he didn't," she started for her house, "I'd better get inside. They'll be worried."

"You're the best Christmas present they could have," I said, suddenly remembering she hated Christmas, "Oh...you hate Christmas, sorry."

"Yes, I do."

"Even if it snows? the Doctor asked, doing something with the TARDIS and causing a ball of light to emerge from the box of wonders and explode in the sky.

"I can't believe you did that!" Donna laughed.

I held out my hand and caught bits of snow in it, making me smile to myself, "I love snow."

"Basic atmospheric exciation," the Doctor explained.

"Merry Christmas," she smiled.

"And you!" I exclaimed, "What are you gonna do with yourself now?"

"Not getting married for starters...and I'm not gonna temp anymore. I don't know...travel?" she thought, "See a bit more of planet Earth. Just go out there and do something."

"You could always..." the Doctor trailed off.

I looked back, giving him a nod. If Donna came along, maybe he'd finally stop using Rose's name on me. Show him how different we are from her. More importantly, how different I was from her. That was something he needed to learn fast.

"What?" Donna asked.

"Come with me," he finished.

"No."

"Okay," the Doctor quickly said, almost like he was barricading himself from any other rejection.

"I can't..." Donna continued.

I frowned but didn't make an insistence.

"No, that's fine," the Doctor assured.

"Do you live your life like that? Just like today?"

He remained quiet, "...Not all the time."

"I think you do and I just couldn't."

"But you've seen it out there," I said quietly, "We could see more."

"But it's also terrible," she said, growing serious, "That place was flooding and burning and they were dying and you just stood there like...I don't know...a stranger. And you made it snow...I mean, you scare me to death!"

"Well then..." the Doctor said, so low you could barely hear him.

"Tell you what I will do though, Christmas dinner," she clapped her hands, 'Come on," she gestured with her head, "Mum always cooks enough for twenty!"

"Donna..." I said, giving her a soft smile. The idea was tempting but...I knew the Doctor wouldn't do it.

"Oh, what about you?" she turned to me, "You said you were human...got your family around here? We could give them a call."

"They're a bit busy..."

"On Christmas?"

"Work," I shrugged, "No time for anything."

"Then with more reason, you two should come."

"Oh all right then," the Doctor said, "But you better go in first and warn them. And...don't say I'm a Martian," I looked back; he was lying, "I just have to park her properly, she might drift off to the Middle Ages. I'll see you in a minute," he gestured for me to follow.

Yup. We'd never see this ginger again.

As he started the materialization program, we heard Donna shouting from outside. The Doctor stopped and rushed out, "Blimey you can shout."

"Am I ever gonna see you again?" I heard her ask.

"If I'm lucky."

"Just...promise me one thing: Don't travel alone."

That took me by surprise. She said it more like a warning...

"I won't," he assured.

"No, but I'm serious. Minerva, she seems like she has some reigns on you. Better keep her around. She can stop you when you need to be stopped."

I took her words into consideration. The Doctor had remained quiet for a moment but then assured her he would.

"Doctor?"

"Oh what is it now?" he replied, somewhat irritated.

"That friend of yours...what was her name?"

I looked up and waited for the response.

"Her name was Rose," he then closed the door and turned around.

"Glad you know her name," I whispered as I entered the TARDIS.

I watched him enter a few minutes later, going directly for the console to set us in motion. Without hesitation, I walked over and blocked him from it with my hand.

"Minerva?" he frowned, looking up at me.

"I'm not Rose. You know that, right? I'm not her. I'm Minerva. And I'm sorry, but I will never be her."

"I know."

"Then why do you keep calling me that?" I demanded, trying my best to not get angry but...this was just the last straw, "I know you want Rose here and I know you're angry because I'm here and she's not. But that is not my fault!"

"No, I don't think of it that way!" he quickly exclaimed.

"I saw the way you looked at me back at the reception. And I could bet everything I have that you weren't seeing me...you were seeing Rose. She was the one dancing, not me," he stayed quiet, not even angry or upset. It made me think that I was right, and for once, I didn't want to be, "You're upset with the universe because I survived and she didn't. I'm here and she's trapped in another world. And, I'm sorry Doctor. I really am but it's not fair. I don't want to be here if all you're ever gonna see from me is Rose Tyler. I'm all for getting to know each other but it's not going to be happen if you're not seeing me. I swear to you I will walk out those doors right now and you will never see me again because I'd rather return to my old life than be the reminder of a ghost that will not and cannot ever return," I walked past him, doing my best to maintain as neutral as possible...and failing.

"Minerva, wait," he called out, catching up and grabbing my arm to turn me around, "I'm so sorry. I know I keep saying it and it's not enough to make it up to you. But the truth is, yeah, I am upset. But I'm not upset that you made it. I am relieved you made it, that you are here in this world with me and more importantly where your family is. I am so happy for you, believe me," he paused, slowly letting go of my arm, " I'm upset because she didn't. But that does not mean I wish I could replace you with her. I'd like both of you to be here. I'm sorry for calling you Rose. The way you called for help, the way you rambled...I don't know, I imagined her right beside you, adding on to what you said. But that was wrong. By doing that I hurt you, again, and made you believe things that aren't. You are most definitely not her and you will never be her...and I don't wanna change that. You seem like a lovely girl, and I'd like to get to know that girl. Rose was...she is wonderful. But she's not here anymore. You are not a replacement, but you are all I have left of the short glimpse of a happy life I had. And if you walk out those doors, I'm afraid that I'll never get that happy life back again. You're not a replacement, you're my hope. I want to be happy, but I need my friend to be with me. Please, Minerva...Minerva Souza, don't walk out on me."

Seeing him now, the way his face had no more grins nor remnants of curiosity as he usually did, made me feel like I just had to stay. Donna was right, he needed someone. Someone to stop him. He seemed awfully sincere and, maybe, I should give him another chance. It had been a mere day since he had lost his friend and I wasn't making things easier by expecting him to just move on in an hour. I needed to put in my part and help him, help progress our relationship together.

"Say my name," I ordered quietly, "Say my name, Doctor."

"Minerva Souza," he quickly said it, "Minerva Souza, the American, the clever girl, the seventeen year old American girl I'd love to travel with."

"I'm not the British girl who worked in the shop..." I warned, "...and certainly no longer 'Joy'."

"No, you're not. You're much different, and I wanna know what those differences are," he began to smile a little, and it was quite contagious, "And besides, I think 'Minerva' is much more fitting for you. Just as pretty, right? Forgive me?"

"Forgiven," I smiled, "But you better get my name right, Martian!"

He mock glared for a second before hugging me, "Minerva, I got it. Now and forever. I promise."

"Good, because the next time you say mix it up, I won't just leave, I'll ruin the most precious thing you have."

"What?"

I pulled back, a slight smirk on my face, "Your hair."

His eyes widened and his hands immediately flung to his hair, "No!"

"Is my warning clear now, Martian?"

He nodded fast, "Loud and clear."

"Good," I walked past him towards the corridors, "If you don't mind I'm gonna raid the wardrobe for some sleeping clothes."

"Off to bed already?"

I sighed, "Yeah, this human needs some kind of rest after everything. Maybe read a book."

He nodded, "The TARDIS has a room for you. And there's this big library you could check up."

"Really?" I asked, completely curious now, "How big?"

"Really big," he smiled.

I gasped quietly, "You never mentioned that room before."

"I did..." he said sadly, "To Rose."

"Oh..."

"But, your room, that's always been there. The first time you stayed with us, we barely got sleep and then you just..left. And then we took those non-stop travels so I never got the chance to tell you the TARDIS had already prepared a room for you. It always remained in case you want to stay again. For real."

"I want to stay," I smiled, going for the corridors. I suddenly stopped when I remembered my first encounter with Donna, "Doctor," I looked back, "I met Donna before. That day we first met, I met her right before you came."

"Did you?" he was still unconvinced.

"Yes, I met her! She killed the first Auton with this hot knife and then she said, and I quote, 'Might not be as 'awesome' as a screwdriver but it sure as hell gets the job done'. What other screwdriver could she be talking about?"

He sighed and thought about it, "I suppose...maybe in the future, we'll get a nice surprise."

"I'd like that," I admitted, smiling at the thought of seeing Donna again, "Have a good night, Doctor. And...merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," he said, a faint smile on his face.

I grabbed the first pajamas I saw and walked into my room. It was Christmas again and I would be taking a shower and going to sleep. How different it was from last year. With Jackie. With Mickey. With Rose. All set up at the table and pulling crackers for a paper crown. How different it had all been.

This year, I'd be spending Christmas alone.

I stepped out of the shower and dried my hair with the towel. I brushed it and let it fall down to my waist as usual; letting it air dry. I looked around and at my solemn room, letting out a heavy sigh. A knock on the door made me turn back. I went to open it and found the Doctor standing on the other side.

"I, uh...stepped out for a bit," he said. I looked around, not really understanding, "I was going to bake these..." he pulled out a bag of snicker-doodle mix from behind his back, "But then I realized I didn't know how..." he smiled softly, "Can you help me?"

I looked at the bag then up at him, recalling Jackie's attempts to find a shop open on Christmas just for this cookie mix. I supposed maybe...he did listen at times. "With some hot chocolate?" he nodded silently, "Then yes," I smiled, stepping out from my room and closing the door, "I'd love to."

Maybe I wouldn't be spending Christmas alone.

I might just be spending it with a lovely friend this year.

[oculusius]

Desk Jockey

“I want that report on my desk at 6 AM tomorrow or your ass is on the street.”

I look up from my keyboard, from the sickeningly modern, blank desk to the even worse face of my branch manager. Picture what you’d expect the person saying this to look like, and you’re probably right. Tall, dark hair combed back, slicked back with just enough gel to not be disgusting. Attractive, but only conventionally, because it hides his fetid interior. The rotten, wriggling insides of the kind of guy who relishes other’s misery, especially when he’s snorting high grade blow on the weekends. Though he’d probably prefer orphan’s tears (But that’s a story for another time).

I’ll do my best, you fucking cretin.

I mumble out some garbled excuse. I won’t even tell you what I said because I forget, or rather, it was so insignificant that I never committed it to memory in the first place. “Sorry Eric,” (He’s one of the ‘hip’ bosses that makes us call him by his first name), “Won’t happen again”, Please don’t take my healthcare away I will literally suck your dick to keep it. He shakes his head and walks away. We’re the last ones in the office, one of the tallest buildings in our shitty, Midwestern town; all glass and steel like some gaudy San Francisco startup. The only lights still on are in the lobby; besides that the only other illumination is from the sickeningly crisp glow emanating from my monitor. As soon as the elevator doors close behind Eric, I grasp my hair in my hands; it’s drenched in sweat and I’m balding already, despite being in my late twenties. Flakes of dandruff are appearing on my scalp, but by the time I get home from work I’m too damn tired to remember to get that special shampoo. Stress related? Probably. Did I have time to fix it? Fuck no.

I swear to God you motherfucker I’ll name you when I eat a fucking bullet you shit fuck…

Stop. The more rational voice in my head. Finish this shit in the next—5 hours? Shit, it’s already 1 AM! I’ll smash bottles and get proper wasted when I’m finished. And when the following day is over, seeing as I’d probably be pulling an all-nighter. Fuck. I take two caffeine pills from the nondescript tin in my top drawer.

Alright. I need to get the excel sheet from that old email inbox the intern left when he quit (not that I blame him). To do that, I need to go through my inbox and find that time I CC’ed him about scheduling that conference call. But to get into my inbox, I need to reset my password because company policy is to change passwords every 3 weeks, and it can’t be a past password…

Alright. One step at a time.

 It’s two hours later. I found the file, finally. I feel like I crossed the fucking Rubicon with no limbs to get here. Now, to get the shit I need from it and send it to Eric. I hope he chokes on it. While bleeding. From every orifice, and then some. I open the file, and I’ve never been so goddamn happy to see the sickening green of excel. Document recovery—what’s that? Fuck it, I’ll deal with it later. I ctrl f the account name. Beads of sweat are dripping off my forehead. Outside, it’s still the vaguely pinkish black of night in any big city. I might actually get some sleep tonight…

WHY IS THERE A FUCKING HYPERLINK HERE?

Oh boy, this better not cost me my job. I get sent to a greyish webpage, the kind of soulless portal that screams ‘high finance’. A nondescript login page for “Kleene-Rosser Accounts Management LLC”. I roll my eyes. Management occasionally threw us these shitty platforms because their friends from way back developed them, and they wanted to help them out. Because God forbid we use Citibank.

There’s no login, but there’s a support number on the bottom of the page. Maybe if I call, they can help me? It’s worth a shot. I mean, I had nothing but time, and if it actually worked and saved my job, I would fly all the way to India or some shit to kiss that phone technician on the lips. Alright. God, when I was an undergrad did I ever imagine this would be my waking life (or lack thereof?) I should’ve joined the military. Better to be blown up overseas then mentally scarred over here.

4-887-612-393: 24/7 Live Support

I call from my office phone, in the hopes that it’ll lend credence to the claim that I fucking need this login. The phone rings for what seems like half an hour, but I can tell from the clock on the wall that it hasn’t been a single, godforsaken minute. Maybe I’d died and gone to purgatory? Seemed believable enough—although, I wasn’t sure what I’d done in a past life to deserve this. Maybe I was a Mongol slavedriver, and…

“Hello, this is ZenDesk, my name is Robert. How may I help you today?” My crisis of existential spiraling instantly, mercifully, shatters. I put on a cheery voice.

“Hi, I work at [company name]. I really need to find something for my boss, and in this accounts payable excel file, it says that I’m supposed to login to a ‘Kleene-Rosser Accounts Management?’ I have all my company info if you need it, I was just never told we used this firm before.”

A beat passes. I hope he heard the desperation in my voice, because if I had a guardian angel, it’d be on the other end of that phone line. Why did I tell him I never heard of this place? He doesn’t care! He isn’t paid to care!

“Of course, sir. Just a moment please. What’s your name sir?”

That thin veneer of politeness again.

“Uh, Keith Sanders. I also have my company email, if you can send the password there…”

“OK sir, what’s the address?”

I spell it out for him. My fingers are digging into the faux-leather of the chair. I’m starting to sweat. If this doesn’t work, I’m fucking hosed…

I tell him the address, and soon I have the URL to reset the Kleene-Rosser password. Surprisingly, my company email works for the username. Lucky guess I suppose? I thank him, truly from the bottom of my heart, and wait for the page to load.

According to the web page, the site was some kind of file storage service. Besides a few nondescript tabs on the top leading to “Home”, “Support”, etc. there’s nothing but a grey background set behind a very basic file directory.

[company_name]/Accounts/Accounts_Payable/2019/May/.

There it is! So deceptively close. 05.19.19.xcl

When I try to open it, I hear the most awful of noises: the Windows 10 error sound, impossibly loud. File corrupted. WHAT THE FUCK? HOW DO YOU CORRUPT A FUCKING EXCEL FILE? SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS SIDEWAYS?

I dig my fingertips into my temples. I can feel the faint outline of an engorged vein on the side of my head. I imagine it, an angry, vibrant purple, the shooting representation of my immense, earth-shattering frustration.

It was as if every cog in the infernal machine that was my work place was designed specifically to drive me fucking bananas. Like my life was some cosmic joke to see how much I would endure before going postal, or at least smashing my monitor. Jump out an office window, strapped with speakers blaring “FUCK THIS PLACE” over and over again, even when they’re scraping me off the pavement with a comically large spatula. Every little thing piled atop one another to form the worst shit tsunami eternally suspended above my head. Every wriggling, squealing fucking cell in my brain…

Alright, let’s think of solutions. Eric wanted the file, and if it was corrupted, I’d just tell him the truth: that it’s how I found it. Man, why did I drive myself up the wall earlier? So stupid… I log into my email. Actually, I don’t. As soon as I hit enter in the URL bar, I get that fucking google “no internet” error dinosaur. At this point, I try to keep rolling with the punches. Alright, network diagnostics, here we go. After what feels like centuries, after windows resets the router, etc. I finally get an answer. Sort of. An error code. I had two hours left before I was unemployed. I take another caffeine pill and keep going, determined to see this shit through to the end.

Hidden on the fifth page of the search results is my answer. It’s on an obscure, early 2000s web forum that had a grand total of 2 users online, probably bots. A post from a literal decade ago has my same issue, and one of the commenters mentions he had the same thing. Apparently, it’s a hardware issue with the router. Despite being woefully underqualified to deal with IT issues, I have no other choice. No fucking way Eric will believe that the internet cut out 2 hours before my deadline. I find the tech support number, and pray that the information is up to date and that they won’t have to send a technician out to fix it.

As the phone rings, I ponder my situation. I was unlucky enough to find what I needed right as the Wi-Fi died, and it was probably one of those issues that fixes itself in an hour anyway. There it is again; I can almost see the shadowy gears of the universe working against me, trying to crush my psyche beneath their teeth into bits of mental scrap. When I finally get a response, I’m caught off guard. This guy seems American. His voice is a bit hoarse, and I picture him as the fat comic book guy from the Simpsons, gut and all.

“----- tech support. How can I help you?”

I don’t like the way his voice trails off every word, leaving a breathy wisp behind like the tail of a comet. It makes me want to shudder.

“Yeah, uh—“

My mind blanks for a minute. I’ve been derailed, and it takes an agonizing few seconds for me to decide what I want to say.

“I was trying to email my boss, and—“again with the unnecessary details “I got this error code, and I saw online that it was an issue with the router.”

“Uh huh.” He sounds skeptical. And disapproving. I imagine he’s wrinkled that gob of cartilage clinging to his face he calls a nose. “What’s the model number?” He finally asks.

I read off the name, and he laughs. He fucking laughs. Is my suffering amusing him? Arousing him?

I have a clearer image of this guy now. Pervading my mind, filling the gaps in my brain, covering my synaptic gaps with fucking cement. He’s grossly overweight, in some dark room somewhere. He smells like BO and he is sweaty milky beads off his forehead that are landing into his keyboard and congealing. The scent is odious, like a corpse coated in mayonnaise and left in a tomb for five millennia, except it’s still wet.

“Sir?” That subtle tone of annoyance again. “Do you understand me, sir?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry. Would you mind repeating that? I was just—talking to someone.” Idiot he can tell you weren’t.

I write down his instructions, but first he pontificates about some issue with a chip in the router or some shit. Apparently I have to call the manufacturer? And they can help me dust it off or some such?

He’s fleshy and sickeningly soft, like a malformed, hairless puppy. That shirt’s been pasted to his damp stomach longer than you’ve been on Earth. It’s just a crude impersonation of the kind of people that run this industry. And you’re just his plaything, to be antagonized and fucked with until…

As soon as my attention is re-centered, I say “Alright thanks bye” without even knowing what he was rambling about before. He laughs. No, cackles. I can practically smell the stale coffee and tobacco on his breath. I slam the receiver down. It was starting to stick to my face with sweat and I really wanted to switch to my cell anyway. Peeling it away was orgasmic.

I examine the napkin I had scribbled on. I’d written it down in a haze, and it almost felt like I was reading someone else’s handwriting. Was that a 5, or a 6, or what? Doesn’t matter. I plug in the numbers, to some obscure fucking company I know nothing about. There’s like 12 digits, not like any number I’ve ever dialed. Unbeknownst to me, I was about to make the worst fucking mistake of my life, worse than taking on that debt to go to college or that time I puked on grandma’s casket at the funeral. Light years away, I imagine, some metaphysical blade was eagerly, sexually, preparing to scoop out my insides and flay them across time and space, flicking its imaginary tongue back and forth in anticipation.

I had expected that infuriating error code, but instead, I feel it. All of it. The other side is cold, and every hair on my body stands right on edge.

“Hello?”

The phone’s definitely connected.

“Hello?!”

This time it seems to echo. I’d opened a door, a beaming ray of light into a place that hasn’t been graced by it in eons.

“Is this Infolink appliances?” I gulp suddenly. My throat is impossibly dry. Everything that made me me, my identity, my memories, my interests… were spilling out into space, into an impossible void far blacker than even the darkest of nights. Please. Like my brain was a plastic bag full of air, but now it’s been punctured. It’s getting sucked out like a breached spaceship, and my body is curling around the now torturous void. I am a husk.

I drop the phone on the ground, and the screen cracks. But I’m far beyond caring about that screen now. The spiritual, inky black is billowing out of the phone like an endless wave going out in every direction. And there’s something else. A raucous laughter, and sneering, they’re laughing so hard somewhere backstage that their mouths, or whatever they call those fucking gullets, are overflowing with sickening white foam with streaks of yellow bile. Dark silhouettes that have been eagerly waiting this whole time for this horrible climax. I’d played my part. Everything else was out of my hands now.