#knitting factory entertainment

[kenpiercemedia]

Knitting Factory Entertainment & Nick Bodor Announce "Baker Falls/Knitting Factory Manhattan" Venue

Knitting Factory Entertainment & Nick Bodor Announce “Baker Falls/Knitting Factory Manhattan” Venue

The Press Release: When Knitting Factory Brooklyn closed in August with a performance by Hannibal Buress, they promised to return to their roots in Manhattan for the first time since the original venue closed in 2009, but remained coy about the details. Now it can be told: Hospitality entrepreneur Nick Bodor and Knitting Factory Entertainment (KFE) are excited to announce their first…

[probablyasocialecologist]

Today, the label luddite is an epithet for someone afraid of technology and the change it can bring. Merchant’s book makes clear that Luddites did not fear automation in the sense of being afraid of the machines or longing for an idyllic past. On the contrary, as Merchant points out, clothworkers were often themselves intimately engaged in improving the technology they used. Some of them proposed paying for job retraining by taxing factory owners who implemented the automating machines, earning the workers the title of “some of the earliest policy futurists,” according to Merchant. These efforts—to use official channels at the local and parliamentary levels—failed, however. With their futures rapidly foreclosing, the clothworkers invoked the fictional Ned Ludd (alternatively, Ludlam), an apprentice stocking-frame knitter in the late 1700s who, the story went, responded to his master whipping him by destroying the machine. Inspired by his act of sabotage against a cruel employer, the Luddites campaigned to halt the spread of the “obnoxious machines.” Soon factory owners found threatening letters signed by Captain Ludd or General Ludd or King Ludd. The letters also allude to another hero of working people from Nottingham, Robin Hood. Merchant argues that the mutability of Ned Ludd served as an organizing symbol akin to a playful but potent meme.

[...]

The Luddites used the tools at their disposal and did so through collective action. Merchant details the day-to-day organizing efforts of the movement’s leaders. We are ushered into a clandestine world of codes and oaths, of backroom meetings and nighttime training. The scheming makes for entertaining reading. But beneath the private planning and public sabotage lurks a more lasting lesson: movements to dismantle automation’s physical infrastructure often depend on building relational infrastructure. Tight-knit communities are extraordinarily important here: they buffered the Luddites from harm and fostered creative thinking rather than merely alienation among adherents and their allies. Increasingly finding themselves wrung out by those in power, these communities coalesced around shared causes that overlooked intragroup differences. This opened space for women, Merchant tells us, to claim the nom de guerre Lady Ludd and charge into markets to demand fair food prices from shop owners and food suppliers. It worked. The “auto-reductions,” as they were called, demonstrate the power of people working together to force change. Similarly, resistance to automation can be creative and provide openings to bring myriad others into the tent.

[dominickeating-source]

Dominic Keating Interview (2002)

British actor Dominic Keating hails from a mid-sized city in the middle of England called Leicester (pronounced "Lester"). Although now on a hit U.S. TV show, he hasn't forgotten his roots and the city of his birth. "Well, you can take the boy out of Leicester ?! I go to Leicester quite a lot. My mum still lives there. She's actually coming out this Christmas for the first time. She's going to visit me in LA. I love living in Los Angeles, but I'll never say never anymore."

With ten weeks off during the show's hiatus, did he have a chance to visit his homeland? "I did, yes. I also went to Germany to do a convention. It was my first Star Trek convention abroad — huge amount of fans. There were around 6,000 people there. And, officially, they haven't seen the show there. I told them I was the captain!"

Premature captaincy aside, he's not doing too badly for a boy from the midlands with no formal acting training. Instead, his education was on the job. "Pretty much, yes. I didn't go to an 'official' drama school. I didn't get in, actually," he confesses.

But persistence pays off and, like most actors, he started out small and worked his way up. "I got my first job at the Man in the Moon pub theatre at the bottom of King's Road in Chelsea. I did a play there called 'The Best Years of Your Life,' which got quite a bit of notice. It's a very moving play about an apprentice soccer player for Chelsea who was struck down with spinal cancer. I played his brother, and got a bit of notice from that. I then got my first proper agent and kicked off from there. Went off to [the] Edinburgh [Festival] with Timothy Spall and did a play up there that got a lot of notice in the summer of the following year. From that I met the writer of a sitcom called Desmond's (Trix Worrell), who cast me in the show, which ran six years. Meteoric rise!"

Citing influences such as James Bond or the "Carry On?" movies — a franchise of innuendo-laced British comedies — Dominic also points to an actor whose legendary career spanned several decades: Rod Steiger. "I was in my sitting room watching him in one of those movies, I think it was 'No Way to Treat a Lady,' where he played something like eight characters and I definitely remember a moment, as a ten or eleven-year old, thinking 'I wonder if I could do that?'" Ironically, this particular influence later became a professional contact. "I got to work with Rod a few years ago on a film called 'The Hollywood Sign,'" Keating says. "It was a great honor to meet him. He wasn't that pleased, though, when I reminded him how long ago it was that he made that movie."

His one other big influence dovetails nicely into what he does now. "I did watch the first Star Trek series pretty religiously."

Entertainment wasn't all TV and movies for Keating. "My mum took me to the theatre at an early age. I think the first play I ever saw was an Alan Ayckbourn play, 'How the Other Half Loves.' I remember a man in the audience in front of us turned around and told me to be quiet because I was laughing so hard! Typical, eh?"

Without the conventional drama school life, Dominic faced something many actors fear: a regular job. His r?sum? is nothing if not a bit unconventional. There were the typical bartending and waiting jobs, most of which he claims to be fired from, but there were also other odd jobs that seem miles away from an actor's calling. "I've done a plethora of things. I worked in a knitting factory in Nottinghamshire; I've worked in a rubber molding factory in Colville, making rubber moldings for car doors. I did a lot of work for the Manpower Services. One of my favorite tasks was going along to the schools where the coal cog had been blocked up by some part of a metal chair that some kids had stuck down the coal chute. My mate and I used to show up in my first VW Bug and then bury ourselves down in this coal chute and unclog the offending article and get that cog working again! I also did a bit of painting and decorating, the usual thing."

When stateside success finally landed, in the form of his Enterprise role, what did Dominic do with his first paycheck? "Good question! I did take a photograph of the first check, actually. Because it was a double episode for the pilot, it was the largest check I'd ever been paid in one lump sum."

Showing good monetary sense, he claims to be fiscally responsible. "I'm pretty good with money. I don't know that I went out and bought anything, because I knew what I was going to do," he pauses. "I'm sitting in it now, my beautiful Hollywood home out here in the canyon looking out on a beautiful summer's day. I knew I wanted to buy this house, or a house like it. The first season I literally just socked it away and I didn't buy a new car. I drove my old '87 Bronco, and I only just got rid of that about a month ago. I put money away for a down payment on the house. Six months ago, my girlfriend and I moved in and we love it!"

Surely he celebrated when he got the part on Enterprise? "You know what I did? I was with John Billingsley (Phlox) — we were the first two cast — and we went out and had a coffee together and called a bunch of our friends on our cell phones while we were supping on our double-latte mochas, or whatever. I came home to the two rooms that I was renting in Beachwood Canyon and I put on a CD on my portable player and went out for a walk up around the canyon. I went to look at some of the houses that I could now afford to buy and noticed the nice cars that were driving past me, thinking, 'Ah, I could probably get one of those as well,'" he says. "I went for a long walk and let it all soak in. Then on the way back down the hill, I popped in at my friend's house — his mother was over from England — and he could tell by the cheesy grin on my face. He knew I had been in the auditioning process for this job and he went, 'You got it didn't you? You bloody got it!'

"I've taken a few people to dinner since then."

One of the great luxuries about being cast in a Star Trek show is there is a good chance you won't be cancelled after 13 episodes. But even so, the threat will always be there. "Well, one hopes not. As long as you keep your nose clean and don't piss anyone off too much!"

Even with a job like this, an actor's dream, there is still a certain amount of anxiety in taking the part. "I had a brief moment on the Bridge in the first couple of days when I was pressing button 502 over and over again. The thought crossed my mind, 'I'll never do Ibsen.' Then the first check arrived and I thought, 'Ibsen, Shmibsen!' There was some trepidation. You are signing yourself up for a long haul playing one character. But I was at a time in my life where I wanted the security that a job of this nature was going to offer me. I was very excited about the prospect of being able to afford actually having a family, an educated child."

Keating's character, Malcolm Reed, is also someone he is grateful for. "They've given me so much to do on this show — like "Shuttlepod One." To be honest, it's the best work I've ever done in front of a camera," he says proudly. "They've given me another episode like that in the second season, episode three — "Minefield" — myself and Scott [Bakula] in a two hander on the exterior of the ship and floating in space. It's a fantastic piece of writing that Brannon [Braga] came up with."

But there may be more in store for the Starfleet officer. "I talked briefly with Brannon about this, and I know that the one thing he appreciates about the way Malcolm Reed's developed is that he is truly at odds with his character and he is quite enigmatic. You cannot pigeonhole this character. You can, but he does have the ability to play at odds with himself and not have the audience say, 'That's not in character.' I think the one thing Brannon appreciates, and I certainly do, is that Malcolm Reed is very human. 'Shuttlepod One' allowed the audience to see that. I think he can take this character any which way. I would love to see them explore a very dark side to Reed, something in the way of a Laurence-Harvey-tortured-man. And if anyone can write that for this character, it's Brannon Braga."

Working on a show like Star Trek can be taxing if you are in every scene in every episode, but for most, that isn't really a problem. "It's such a great job and because it's an ensemble piece, we don't work every day. The days I have off, I so appreciate now. I've got a bit of money now so I can go for sushi or take my girlfriend someplace nice. I also love body boarding and I've just started taking up surfing. I just graduated to standing up on the wave. And I adore golf. And there it is — I get back and I've got four wonderful scenes with great actors and such camaraderie. It truly is a dream, dream job. I'll sorely miss it when it's over. And it'll come about too soon. Seven years seems quite a long time, but you know what, it'll fly by and it will be sad when it's over."

In the meantime, occasional brushes with celebrity are bound to happen. "It happened the other night for the first time. Two weekends ago, my neighbors took me and my girlfriend out with some friends of theirs. They rented a limo and we went to the opening of this rather swanky, new, swish restaurant here in LA, opened by this trendy chef called Fred. The limo pulled up and I didn't realize what a circus it was going to be when we got there. We took our steps on to the red carpet and as we were walking down the red carpet — and I've been to Star Trek events and UPN events before, where I understood there would be people there who would want to take pictures of me but I didn't expect this for a second — all these photographers started shouting out my name. I was absolutely bowled over! I've got Beck in front of me, Gwen Stefani two back from me and they're shouting, 'Over here, Dominic, over here!' It really took me by surprise. I can't say that I didn't like it, but it really did take me by surprise. I had a bit of the recognition thing back in England after doing [the sitcom] Desmond's for a few years. I don't want to say I'm used to being recognized, but I'm certainly not phased by it. I was prepared. That moment coming out of the limo was definitely like, 'Oh, I've arrived.'"

His future bright, Dominic Keating can wonder comfortably what it holds. "Who knows? Certainly for the foreseeable future, I can't see why I would want to move back to England full-time. I still have a flat there. Nothing would thrill me more than to come back to London during the hiatus and do a really good play. Or maybe live in London for a couple of years after the show finishes ? do some guest roles on other shows, maybe.

"I'm really happy with the way things have panned out. I'm still a young man, [I'll] still be fairly fresh when I come out the other end. I think I'm pretty versatile."

Source: startrek.com

[dewitty1]

From CNN: Mark Margolis, ‘Breaking Bad’ and ‘Better Call Saul’ actor, dead at 83

Mark Margolis, ‘Breaking Bad’ and ‘Better Call Saul’ actor, dead at 83

(CNN) Mark Margolis, a veteran actor known for his performances on "Breaking Bad and "Better Call Saul,'' has died, his son, actor and Knitting Factory

Entertainment CEO Morgan Margolis, told CNN in a statement.

Margolis died Thursday at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York City following a short illness, according to his son.

He was 83.

[mixamorphosis]

Blog post and linked up tracklist [HERE]

Tracklist

01. Fela Ransome Kuti & The Africa 70 - Let's Start (Knitting Factory) 02. The Rwenzori's - Handsome Boy (E Wara) (Harmless) 03. Ekambi Brillant - Nyambe (Africa Seven) 04. Matata - Wanna Do My Thing (Explosive Entertainment) 05. Los Issifu & His Moslems - Kana Soro (Analog Africa) 06. Black Truth Rhythm Band - Ifetayo (Explosive Entertainment) 07. Tee Mac - Nam Myoho Renge Kyo (Hot Casa) 08. Sookie with Jeannie Otis - Rhythm On Rhythm (African Road Trip) 09. Tala A.M. - Black Gold (Africa Seven) 10. Osibisa - Sunshine Day (Gemini) 11. Manu Dibango - Soul Makossa (London Records) 12. Buari - Karam Bani (RCA) 13. Nana Love - Talking About Music (BBE) 14. Pat Thomas & Marijata - I Need More (Strut) 15. Fela Anikulapo Kuti & Roy Ayers - 2000 Blacks Got To Be Free (Eurobond Records)

Download available via [Hearthis]

[fluideli123]

Something something something FNAF AU where Foxy was originally from a horror attraction named Nightmare Factory and was then bought by Fazbear Inc. following an accident. Upon meeting the Fazbears gets introduced to the life of being a child's entertainment animatronic by the main three, led mostly by Bonnie.

They get up to a whole bunch of shenanigans. I mean, how can they not when you've got a new member who has never known a life outside of a horror attraction and a trio that have never known life outside of a pizzeria? Things are bound to get funny AND angsty.

Bonnie, Freddy, and Chica are all so close knit they're the others entire worlds! I mean, spending years together in the same place does that to you sometimes! They know everything about one another, things they've at times really never thought about, so having a new guy shake up the norm and get you to notice things really gives you a new sight into everything!

Plus finally getting to know someone new is so exciting! Like why would you want to look scary? What could be so scary about an animatronic? How come they work so differently than one another?

Not to mention the newbie is getting an eye full of ALL of the sights! How the hell could there be so much color in ONE place? What's an arcade? How can a place be so warm and cozy? And how come there are so many kids?

Okay, but, seriously, I've been foaming at the mouth over this AU since Halloween (unironically, the FNAF movie was awesome that day, perfect day for it, 10/10, still cry over them). And despite having a much more darker and angstier FNAF AU, I am in love with this one. I've already made the characters so complex and and the chemistry between all of them makes my heart melt.

And the fact the Fazbear company has a hand in making the fours lives angsty?? Like, imagine being a sentient machine but you're forced to act by the personality your directors place upon you. You have no free will in how you entertain and if you make any living mistake you have the threat of being shut down permanently.

Also because you're a sentient being with human ideas placed into your very programming, you go through queer experiences like being trans. And YES Freddy and Bonnie are Trans, and there is angst there as well as a sweetness I can and WILL cry over.

And Chica? God, imagine, IMAGINE having the personality given to you go against your true self so viciously, and because you're the "only girl" and your model is made fun of because of weird human ideas you have to put up with everyday.

And Foxy? GOD, Foxy, everything about him could be it's own post just like everyone else but KNOW that man is from a HORROR ATTRACTION. You know, a place a complete 180 from a family friendly place where things are secure and well taken care of. And also funfact, Nightmare attraction is named NIGHTMARE for a reason because this guy is based on Nightmare Foxy and the rest of his original crew? Based on the Nightmare Animatronics and Co.! God his entire backstory makes me foam at the MOUTH.

So, yeah, welcome to this blog's FNAF phase.

[sikapaonline]

Actor Mark Margolis from Breaking Bad passes away

According to his relatives, Breaking Bad star Mark Margolis passed away at the age of 83. Actor Mark Margolis from Breaking Bad passes away Following a brief illness, Margolis passed away on Thursday at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York City, according to his son, actor and CEO of Knitting Factory Entertainment Morgan Margolis. Margolis had appearances in more than 100 TV shows and movies, such…

[ghanashowbizonline]

Breaking Bad actor Mark Margolis dies

American actor Mark Margolis of Breaking Bad fame has died at the age of 83, his family has announced. Margolis died Thursday at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York City following a short illness, his son, actor, and Knitting Factory Entertainment CEO Morgan Margolis, announced. Margolis appeared in more than 100 TV programs and films, including Scarface and Ace Ventura: Pet Detective. Margolis…

[ask-jester]

time for a little oc bio!

(this drawing was made late last year, i still like it! it’s jester meeting sackboy!)

name: jester

age: 27 in human years

gender and pronouns: male, he/him

species: sackperson

shape: lanky, tall (17cm, more than double the height of an average sackboy)

materials: jester is made of spacedust woven into black polyester, stitched together with blue thread! his eyes and teeth glow white, and his zip is golden with a lightning bolt shaped hole.

outfit: jester wears the jester outfit (no way?!?!?!) in red and green. his zip is not visible in this outfit- it is hidden in his ruff, however the bells on his hat match his zip.

personality traits: jester is a fun-loving extrovert with a love for mischief and pranks! he has a good heart, but being a lover for mischief and as well as being very chaotic he can sometimes accidentally make his pranks dangerous. despite working for vex, however, he means no harm; he just wants to have fun and vibe. jester can be dense and clueless most of the time, but he is surprisingly intelligent in certain fields such as problem-solving, engineering, mathematics, etc.

hobbies: cooking and baking, dancing, and making things. he will bake treats and make cool things for knitted knights (like plushies, drawings, etc)

likes: meeting new people, vex, entertaining others, britney spears and her music (vex introduced him and he became obsessed), causing mayhem, being a general nuisance

dislikes: silence, bright lights (he has sensitive eyes), being ignored

fears: abandonment

backstory: jester suffers from retrograde amnesia. he cannot remember anything before he hit his head; he doesn’t know who he used to be, where he came from, or anything. he tries not to think about any of this and just buries it.

he lost his memory during the events of LBP3, when he was fighting a titan and failed. jester used to be entirely able to talk, but the head injury he received from the titan damaged his vocal chords as well as causing memory loss. he managed to get a voice box from the interstellar junction, but it does not often work, so he mainly communicates in sign language or writing/typing.

he was created to be a minion for the negativitron, but he was a factory error and therefore ended up getting tossed in the bin.

also, despite his appearance, he isn’t actually vexed! vex inspires jester, he isn’t being controlled or manipulated or anything like that.

[clubyukhei]

[1:15PM]

“yangyang? do you like that girl?” 

babysitter!yangyang nearly chokes on his americano at how that question came out of nowhere. 

the toddler in the baby carrier strapped to his torso, wei, bursts into giggles as he looks up at his uncle coughing hysterically. across the table sits a five-year-old girl, yun — wei’s older sister and yangyang’s beloved niece — who’s also giggling while watching her uncle struggle.

“what girl, yun?” yangyang asks, letting out a sigh. he knows damn well who she’s talking about.

“the girl who brought the food to our table!” yun smiles, taking a bite from the madeleine between her fingers. “you like her?”

“no, i don’t.” 

she stares at him for a few seconds as she chews, observing her uncle closely. then a huge, cheeky grin begins to spread across her tiny face. 

“why didn’t you look at her just now? when she was talking to you.” she questions. 

“i did!” 

“nope. you didn’t.” yun shakes her head. she reaches for an eclair from the plate of pastries on the table. 

yangyang lets out a huff of surprise to mask the now bubbling pit of anxiety in his stomach. why is he sitting here allowing himself to be interrogated by his five-year-old niece? 

his eyes wander to a distance away and fall onto you. you’re behind the counter once again, smiling brightly at a customer who also has a toddler in their arms. the same smile yangyang saw up close and barely survived. 

he also barely survived hearing your voice and laughter. and the sight of you cooing at wei. and the way your hair frames your face and how you manage to look so pretty even in your work uniform. and the fact that you gave him a free cookie to go with his americano.

“papa says that sometimes, when a person likes you, they can’t look at you because they’re too nervous.”

“your papa just says things.” yangyang deadpans, making a mental note to nag at kunhang once he gets back home. that’ll definitely be a conversation from friend to friend — not brother-in-law to brother-in-law. “i don’t like her.”

cut the crap, whines a tiny voice in yangyang’s head. he doesn’t just like you a little, he likes you a lot. heck, he is head over heels in love with you — someone he met literally not even an hour ago. and if you spare him just another second of your attention, he would probably earn the title of the world’s happiest man alive right away.

if it was any other day, he’d attempt to strike up a conversation or tell you one of the three stupid jokes he has memorised by heart. but the circumstances of today are simply pathetic. yangyang cringes just thinking of how lame he must look, sitting in a kids’ cafe wiping baby drool off his jeans and making the silliest faces to keep wei entertained. 

“hmm. but i think… she likes you too.”

“sure.” yangyang mutters. 

yun gasps. “let me go ask her!” she puts the half-eaten eclair back on the plate and slides off her seat. 

“no!” yangyang hisses in panic, the star-shaped cereal puff he was about to feed to wei falling onto the ground. “get back now!”

but it’s too late — the little girl is already running to the counter and getting a hold of your attention. glued to his seat, yangyang watches the entire scene in horror. there’s no saying what yun will blabber to you now. maybe it’s better if he doesn’t know.

then he catches you laughing at something yun has said.

it’s over, yangyang thinks. two girls laughing at him — one of them the girl of his dreams and the other a literal child. it can’t get worse than that... but it does. as if yun had just heard his thoughts, she turns around and points her finger in his direction proudly.

yangyang could seriously cry. why is this happening to him? 

he looks down at wei, muffling a groan into the knitted beanie sitting on top of the toddler’s head. oh, to be a toddler munching on cereal puffs, peacefully unaware of what’s going on. 

when yangyang steals another glance, he finds you already staring at him. LOOK AWAY NOW, he screams internally. but he can’t. 

it feels as if the world has stopped moving just so he can fully appreciate this moment and everything about it — how your eyes sparkle under the rays of afternoon sunlight, how the most beautiful smile he has ever seen stretches across your lips… yangyang doesn’t even realise he has frozen altogether until wei starts squirming around, tugging the strings of his hoodie with his tiny fists. 

in a matter of seconds, he circles his hands around wei’s hips and starts bouncing his knee. when he looks up this time, he spots you grinning as you grab a marker and a small piece of paper. you shake your head to yourself, that silly grin never leaving your face as you pen something down and hand it to a very excited yun who’s tip-toeing against the counter.

“yangyang!” yun exclaims after finishing her marathon from the counter back to their table. she’s waving the folded piece of paper in the air like it’s a golden ticket to willy wonka’s chocolate factory. “look! i told her you like her!”

yangyang snatches it out of her hand, his heart pounding as he shakily unfolds it and comes face to face with a series of letters and numbers written in red marker ink. no fucking way.

for the cutie. (the baby. or... you ^^ )

XX-XXXX-XXXX 

“i think she really likes you! papa and mummy got married after she gave him her phone number.”

“oh my god.”

-

[thewuzzy]

9 11 10 update predictions

charles returns to britain and is immediately promoted to senior advisor to the queen. jean grey gets adopted into the royal household and princess margaret immediately teaches her how to chain smoke

charles ingratiates himself as the new acceptable face of the british mutant establishment and thereby negotiates a new treaty with the EBS where future child soldiers are only stolen from the welsh borders and the outer hebrides

jean encourages charles’ penguin to waddle up to various ministers and peck them in the eye if they don’t vote with charles. jean thinks this is hilarious, society is outraged, charles insists he has no idea what is happening

raven invites charles to join her underground mutant resistance trying to assassinate the queen and institue a republic, and is completely bamboozled that charles in now on first name basis with the woman who obliquely sent him to his death. ‘but if you met her you’d see she was doing it for the greater good, my dear. she didn’t have a choice, the gulf stream raven darling --’

raven has accreted an entourage of admiring mutant orphans much like nancy from oliver twist, if nancy could and would kill both bill sykes and charles dickens

charles invites raven to debate mutant politics over tea in halls at oxford. raven outlines her plan to blow up the houses of parliament. charles is shocked and offended and says ‘this isn’t you, my dear.’ raven says ‘it’s the champage socialism for me, you twink prick’ and storms out completely blue and naked. at least 2 deans of colleges faint as she leaves

charles has a grand old time going to cabinet meetings and committees on ‘the mutant issue’ that never go anywhere. raven gets bored and so kidnaps the duke of edinburgh and forces him to make a televised address to the nation at gunpoint declaring equal rights for mutants

meanwhile in america, kurt singlehandedly destroys free west morale by teleporting into the middle of stryker’s propaganda speech, farting loudly in the microphone, and then running

moira clubs vice president slade to death with charles’ gemstone

emma thinks she may forgive charles for trying to run because it would be entertaining to bring this vapid twink back to the fold via the medium of *lots of torture* but she WILL NOT forget the kidnap of jean and so for this charles must DIE

emma is so distracted by rage so logan and marie finally have the chance to BOINK. they go at it like small predatory mammals and several items in the mansion get destroyed in the proceedings

erik stalks charles across the atlantic by creating a raft out of melted barbed wire, spending three days rolling on the ocean waves wearing only stained corduroy trousers and carrying a machete in his teeth

erik slams open the door to idfk, baliol college, while charles is trying to flirt with someone at a formal. erik is naked, dripping wet, and for some reason smeared in badger faeces. they immediately fuck

they fuck in the bodleian 

they fuck on the white cliffs of dover

they fuck on the road to coventry

charles puts the crown on the statue of erik in his mind and that just does something. erik remembers everything and it’s brutal

charles and emma go 1 v 1 irl for the fate of the eastern seaboard. just, truly enormous amounts of shit explodes. waves of brain pain lance out across the atlantic, everyone in a 5000km radius gets a migraine

emma has the advantage of experience and skill, but charles starts to overpower emma through raw brute strength. but then emma unleashes a factory re-set erik on charles like a rabid rottweiler

erik is seconds from ripping charles’ throat out with his teeth when raven yells ‘Oi, furzknödel!!!’ and throws princess alexandra at his head. fluff hits his face. she mews and erik’s eyes unglaze over. he whispers ‘Geschikte rabe’ one last time before turning around to murder emma using thousands of tiny knitting needles

president mactaggert of the free west and prime minister darkholme of great britain negotiate a peace treaty and create a feminist mutant utopia

charles gets blindlingly drunk at the peace celebrations and makes some speech about the power of friendship which repeatedly quotes the iliad and everyone tries desperately to ignore him

charles and erik fuck under the canape table. azazel tries to join in and this goes very unpleasantly for everyone

!!!!  they all live happily ever after !!!!

[catsaar]

Factory One - Community Garden

The community has come together and transformed the old factory into a community garden and entertainment space for young and old.

40x30, Community Garden, Evergreen Harbor, placed on The Waterfront

Cc free, available on the Gallery

EA ID: CatSaar

Tray Files: simfileshare (no ads)

Uses: All current EP’s, Strangerville, Jungle Adventure, Parenthood, Dine Out, Spa Day, Outdoor Retreat, Nifty Knitting, Tiny Living, Moschino, Laundry Day, Toddler, Bowling, Backyard, Kids Room, Movie Hangout, Perfect Patio, Holiday.

Place in build mode with bb.moveobjects on.

Please do not reupload my work or claim as your own.

@maxismatchccworld Thank you!

Community Space version HERE

Buy me a coffee?

[sneakerdoodle]

"(Not) Alone", Chapter 2

Rated: K

Get some uhhhhhh friend times, winter outfits, background gays and existential crisis! Alternative summary:

"Miriam is like you're gonna' rummage through the contents of my heart? okay. what's in your drawers"

- @buttercup-bug <3 big thanks to them for their support and consultation too!!!!

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General warnings: states potentially resembling a panic attack; moderately graphic metaphors, including mentions of drowning; familial tension

- This time I see where I'm flying, at least, - Miriam mutters, seemingly to herself.

Kiwi, fiddling with the strap of the bag hanging behind them, thinks back to Miriam's first and latest visit to Chismest. The flight there is hard to remember through the blur of pain they were in, but they can vaguely recall their friend complaining about the smog through coughing fits, as well as the jerking movements of the broom as she would aggressively rub her watering eyes.

Now, the skies above Chismest are clear, and the frosted trees below are sparkling in the sunlight. It is quieter, too, without the incessant thud of machines that would vibrate through the atmosphere in a low vague hum.

- Still too hecking cold, - Miriam grumbles and clenches her fists harder around the broom to get the blood flowing.

Bard readily leans closer in, sharing whatever body heat they can. Their cheek smooshes against Miriam's back, and the next words come out slightly muffled.

- You must be glad we're packed! Want me to get your cape?

Miriam shakes her head emphatically.

- Nope, thanks, no bag-rummaging in the air.

Kiwi nods slowly, looking past their dangling feet, down below, to the town's edge.

Miriam brings the broom to a bit of a rushed stop, and it hovers in the air, gently swaying up and down. Bard straightens, pulling away.

- Well, we're here. Where to? - Miriam's head is turned as she examines Bard's face, questioningly and with a hint of suspicion.

- Down! - he chirps nonchalantly. Miriam rolls her eyes.

- Thanks. Great tip. It's too early to go to the Observatory, so down where?

Bard contemplates, sinking a bit into their shoulders, and watches the town below. It's changed, a lot. The streets are lighter, and the people are moving through them at a much more of a leisurely pace. There seems to be no shame about being out and about during daytime, no one is in a hurry to get from one place to another. From somewhere below, they can even hear what sounds like faint, soft music.

Bard smiles timidly, entertaining the thought of actually having a good time in their hometown.

- Let's go on a tour!

They land at the outskirts, and Miriam shivers instinctively as the snow crunches under her foot. Bard immediately dives into the bag Saphy has lovingly packed for the two and pulls out a warm woven cape and a wide magenta scarf, presenting them to Miriam with a shining smile. She takes them from their hands, begrudgingly, as if having a body capable of getting cold is something to be self-conscious about. As soon as the cape rests on her shoulders, however, her expression softens into one of comfort and quiet content.

Bard follows her example and wraps a similar long shawl around their own shoulders. It's soothing, both with its warmth and weight, and they close their eyes for a second, sitting with the calm. A long hand-knitted striped scarf follows, and Kiwi feels the most equipped for the cold they can possibly be.

The bag is still heavy on their shoulder. They reach in and pull out a warm and pointy winter hat – and can almost hear Miriam's defenses coming right up. She looks at them with a determined frown, fight-ready.

- No.

- Aw, come on, Miriam! - they try not to smile too widely. - You should stay warm!!

Miriam stares at them in ferocious defiance, unblinking, for a good ten seconds. With a groan, she finally caves in, snatches the hat out of their hands and puts it on. Her face goes red with embarrassment, and she promptly looks away and pulls the scarf over her mouth.

Pulled on in a hurry, the hat sits on Miriam's head slightly sideways, with ruffled hair sticking out from under it and getting in the girl's face. She puts one messy lock away in a jerky motion, tucking it under an ear flap before crossing her arms and looking down at her feet. Bard watches in unconcealed endeared amusement.

- How come you don't get one, - Miriam blurts out, in a tone that implies that she does not expect much of an answer. With an annoyed sigh, she grabs Bard by the sleeve and heads towards the town.

- Not a word to Saphy.

Walking through the streets of Chismest is... strange, almost overwhelming. The town is unexpectedly loud, with the voices of its residents bouncing from one corner to another, sounding from the windows that used to barely ever open. The distant sounds of music Bard heard from up on the broom are closer now, creating an uncharacteristically melodic ambiance. And the weirdest of all, there is so much variety.

Beth's diner is inviting people in to try Katya's new pastry recipe. The Gift House is no more, replaced by a general store. Tanya stands in front of it, fixing a sign that reads: “Next island fruit shipment: TUESDAY, 12 PM”. She notices the two guests and waves at them before going back inside.

Johann is standing in front of the ex-factory building, frowning at the timetable of various workshops, community meetings and the Astronomy Board sessions, apparently figuring out a scheduling issue with Elmer: the lesson on identifying local plants seems to be encroaching onto the public presentation of his newest potential enterprise.

Miriam lingers under the very lantern she would spend her time by back when she and Bard visited Chismest together for the first time. She looks at the large building that used to house the endless deafening machines. It is still slightly shocking in how it looms over the rest of Chismest.

- ...Weird, - Miriam says after a while. Bard hums noncommittally. Miriam looks at them, impatient for a more engaged response. - Very weird, right? I'd only been there for a week, and it still freaks me out to be around this... thing. How are they all just, getting on with it???

Bard is quiet for a moment, unsure whether anything they have to say is worth voicing, but Miriam's gaze is insistent, so they give it a try.

- They're taking it back?.. I think... it's always been their town, and now they can sort of... take it back for themselves?

Put into words, the thought surprises them. They reflect on it for a moment. Is that the reason they still aren't keen on coming back, even after hearing all about the wonderful transformations Chismest has gone through? Maybe it's never been their town, they way it has been for all its other victims, all these other people that were hurt by it but never left. Has it.. always been a question of belonging? Not one of finding a better life?..

She is pulled back out of her thoughts by Miriam's skeptical hum. The girl shifts her weight from foot to foot uncomfortably a couple of times before asking, unsure:

- Do you... wanna go in?..

Kiwi hurriedly shakes her head, and Miriam lets out a sigh of relief.

- Yeah. Me neither.

They continue on their way, approaching the Clocktower Pub, which appears to be the source of music tinting the town views a subtle but cheerful color. In front of the pub, a group of people is gathered in front of a samovar in a seemingly passionate discussion. Among them, Bard recognizes Elara. Like everyone else around her, she is holding a steaming mug.

Boris splashes some of his tea as he swings his arm to make a point.

- Zere is enough coal, no? Nothing iz broken, so why fix?

Elara wrinkles her nose and shakes her head, still calm, but more ardent than Bard remembers her. Before she gets to make her defense, Miles chimes in with a tired groan.

- Yeah, well, the Lights are right there every year, so why the hell not.

- But ze expenses...

- Why not think of it as an investment... - Elara starts, before noticing the two visitors approaching the group. She blinks in surprise behind her glasses. - Oh! You're here already.

Kiwi smiles awkwardly while Miriam waves her hand, then demonstratively hugs her shoulders. The next moment, a mug of tea lands in her palms, expeditiously passed from hands to hands from where the samovar is sitting on a large wooden table. Miriam looks down at it in surprise, startled into her special sort of quietness, processing the simple and natural act of kindness.

- We arrived early! - Bard replies, smiling gratefully at Miles who hands them another mug. - Just walking around for now!

Elara nods slowly.

- This place has changed a lot, hasn't it?

Bard pulls their lips into a smile. For a moment their gaze lingers on Elara, thoughtful. It's so different, seeing her as a part of the community, freely sharing her practical solutions, engaging openly rather than conducting interventions from the margins. She fits right in.

- Well, Winston will be waiting for you in the evening. I hope to stop by as well.

She turns to Miriam, who's been quietly sipping her tea and looking at the group from over her mug.

- You're going to need to have a night's rest before heading back, aren't you? You are welcome to stay at the Observatory, if you would like.

Miriam chokes on the tea and coughs, her cheeks growing pink.

- Oh, - she croaks out, - no, I'm good. Uh. Thanks.

Elara nods.

- Well, let us know. Now, if you excuse me...

She turns back to the group, where Miles' eye rolls are starting to get dangerously expressive.

Miram finishes her tea in a bit of a hurry, circles around the gathering to place the mug on the table and slips away, seeming slightly overwhelmed by the hospitable treatment. Bard follows, waving goodbye to Elara and the rest.

They catch up to Miriam and look around absentmindedly, eyes gliding over the fronts of multi-storey buildings. Ahead, they catch a smudge of orange and red – and slow down. Miriam slows her pace, too, and follows his eyes to where flowers growing in front of the window of his childhood home are nodding their colorful heads to the faint music.

Miriam stops with a quiet sigh.

- Are you sure about it all? - she asks, with the emphasis that is only natural, considering she has already had to ask this question at least thrice.

Bard tears their eyes away from the flowers and turns to her. They take a few seconds, then nod.

- Yeah 🎶, - they sing, low and quiet, and fidget with their hands for a second before continuing: - Just... for a bit there, can you...

- ...Yeah. - Miriam rocks back on her heels for a moment, gearing herself up, then steps towards Kiwi and takes them by the hand. Her expression is nervous and awkward, but she musters a small reassuring squeeze. Bard feels slightly less alone. - Come on.

Bard's hand sits firmly in Miriam's as they sigh before knocking on the door; Miriam does not let go once they are already inside, either, waved in by Kiwi's Mom.

- Sit down, now! - Mom coos in her customary enthusiasm. - I will brew you some tea. Are you and your friend hungry, muffin? - before Kiwi can mumble anything vague in response, she continues: - I have the lunch all ready! Too bad your father is on one of his walks. - Mom shakes her head with that signature vocal laugh. - What a restless man he is!

Bard's sigh of relief is so resounding that for a moment, they are scared Mom will notice. Luckily, she seems too busy rummaging through the cabinets. They look at Miriam, reassured, and loosen their fingers. Miriam's hold persists, however. She gives them a serious, meaningful look, an “I'm here, okay? So don't be stupid” that she can't quite express with her words. Only then, she lets go, but does not break eye contact. Bard's gaze drops down to their feet as they take a second to internalize the sentiment. When they look back up, their smile is timid and grateful.

- Are you hungry? - they ask in a dramatic whisper. Miriam shrugs, then shakes her head. - Thanks, - Kiwi says to Mom, voice slightly strained, - I think we'll just... hang around!

- Nonsense! - she titters in response, turning around with a tray already holding a tea set. - At least have some tea with your old momma!

Bard gives Miriam an apologetic look. She seems downright agonized at the thought of forcing more hot beverages down her throat so soon.

The tea break is the appropriate amount of awkward. Mom asks Miriam about the life in Delphi and the everyday routines of an average witch household, and Miriam grumbles her replies while doing her best drinking impression. The ruse is up once Mom goes to pour everyone another round and discovers Miriam's cup about as full as it was at the start. After having a proper laugh about “that curious friend of yours, muffin”, she finally dismisses the two of them, saying it is time for her to take care of some chores.

Bard plops down on their bed and sighs. They look at Miriam with a sorry little smile. She is standing in the door, looking around the room with a perplexed expression.

- I've never been here before, - she notes, mistrustfully, somehow.

- Oh! I guess you haven't! - Bard looks around the bare walls and minimal furniture. It's not much.

Miriam seems to arrive at the same conclusion.

- Doesn't seem like you, - she says, poking a bouquet of dried flowers.

- There used to be more, - Kiwi mumbles absentmindedly, resting their chin on their hand. - Miriam!! - they gasp with a jump as their friend throws one of the drawers of the bedside table open. Miram stumbles backwards, startled.

- Yeesh, sorry. I thought you weren't one for personal boundaries??

Bard sits with this fair observation for a moment, processing their own hypocrisy.

- W... well--

- I'm not pushing or anything, - Miriam grumbles, - just... surprised you're familiar with the concept.

Bard shrugs and hums an awkward inconclusive sound. They look over to the open drawer and shuffle closer to it to see what is inside. Miriam pointedly looks at the wall in a demonstration of her respect for Kiwi's personal space.

At the bottom of the drawer, there is a handful of crayons and an old notebook. They pick it up and leaf through it, an array of colorful drawings flickering in a quick succession. All the bright fantasies of their childhood are momentarily revived before them. A small smile tugs at the corners of Bard's mouth.

They linger on one page and giggle, then open the notebook wide and hold it in front of them, demonstrating. Miriam looks over and arches her brow.

- What am I looking at exactly?

- Me!, - Bard helpfully supplies. - As a witch 🎶.

And that is exactly what the drawing depicts. A younger version of them, with a different hairstyle, in a pose resembling an overexcited starfish, clad in dramatic dark robes and a pointy hat with a big glowing star on it.

Miriam stares for a good few seconds.

-....why.

- Because witches are cool!! - Kiwi exclaims, without a shred of sarcasm. The skeptic look on Miriam's face deepens. She squints at the drawing.

- Is... - she snorts, - ...is your hair pink?

Bard cracks up again, and Miriam shortly follows, the two dissolving into a duet of giggles.

Kiwi pats the space next to them, and his friend joins, looking over his shoulder at the series of doodles detailing Witch-Bard's magical adventures.

Hours pass effortlessly, in joint reminiscing, daydreaming and doodling.

***

- ...and once you're all set and sure of where it's pointing relatively to, uh, the Anchor, you use the finder to, well, find things!

Winston pauses his slightly nervous chirping and looks at his audience comprised of Miriam, struck into overwhelmed silence, and Bard, who is otherwise occupied.

- Did... did you get any of that? - Winston inquires with the same frantic smile.

Noticing the break in the background noise of thorough astronomical instructions, Bard finally looks up from giving Berry all of the most loving pets in the world – to see Miriam looking at them in quiet despair. Reading the look of blissful unawareness on her friend's face, she sighs.

- Can't you, like... write it all down or something??

Winston nods hurriedly, already on his way to the desk. From the looks of it, he has pretty much moved into the observatory full time, and happily. Bard watches him stick his hands into the pockets of the labcoat and make it flap against his legs, for about the tenth time in the past hour. They wonder why an astronomer would need a labcoat. Do they have to get one too?

Miriam walks over to Kiwi and watches glumly as they scratch Berry behind her ear.

- Aren't you excited? - Bard asks, noting the moody energy. Miriam hums in uncertainty.

- Just... - she gives another annoyed sigh and kicks the floor with the pointy toe of her boot. - Nothing. - She crosses her arms and averts her eyes, then finally shares in a low, muffled voice: - ...hate feeling stupid.

Bard looks up, blinking in surprise.

- You're not!! You know so many awesome things, Miriam!

She stands there silently for a few seconds, before crouching next to them. Bard readily scooches over.

Miriam slowly, nervously extends her hand towards Berry. Their four-legged friend sniffs the tips of Miriam's fingers before lovingly sticking her nose into the girl's palm and wagging her tail. Miriam exhales in relief and gives Berry a few slow, focused pets.

- Thanks. - There is another pause as she struggles with the words for a bit. - We're... gonna try together, yeah?

Bard flashes an enthusiastic smile.

- Yeah! 🎶

- ...Okay, - Miriam does not look away from the dog, who is leaning into the touch with half-lidded eyes. - Then… don't make me figure it all out on my own, - she continues in a more casual grumble. - Don't hang around here for too long.

Bard nods slowly, turning away from Miriam, back to where Berry has dissolved into a euphoric puddle.

- I... won't.

Winston returns with a small stack of papers scribbled over with a frantic hand and awkwardly shoves them in Miriam's vague direction. She just barely manages to get back up on her feet and not lose balance as the paper tumbles into her arms. Winston hurriedly withdraws, slapping his arms along his body, and laughs nervously as Miriam disgruntledly tries to keep the pages from raining all over the floor.

- Uhm, - Winston fiddles with his hands and avoids Bard's eyes when she looks up, questioning. - Is it... just you?.. I mean, joining the project...

- There are many!! - Kiwi rests their chin in their hand, thinking back to Delphi and recounting everyone who seemed excited about the arrival of the telescope. - Ryan and Mitzi, so Dani as well, Lena, Fredrick, Whit...

- Shockingly, - Miriam mutters from where she is still fussing with the instructions, trying to fit them into the overpacked bag. Bard shoots her a scandalized look, a trained non-verbal substitute for “Miriam, be nice!!”.

Winston marks each mentioned name with a nod, a wide thin-lipped smile on his face.

- I... don't know who any of these people are, - he concludes, finally, before turning away and marching back over to his desk. There seems to be a glimmer of genuine joy in his embarrassment, however. Bard thinks back to Elara's letter, inviting them to become a part of the mapping initiative.

“I would be proud to take credit for the project, were it actually mine. Winston is, undoubtedly, the heart of the operation. I told him his conception of it was outstanding - he seemed equally hopeful and horrified. I think he'd take great pleasure in that: making this sort of connection with so many new people. Finding... cohorts, if you will”.

Once the last final glare of sunshine dissipates completely, Winston invites his guests over to the observation deck, the telescope in tow. Kiwi and Miriam fumble with the stand under his fretful watch, but manage to fix the apparatus in place without breaking anything. Winston points out the Anchor star, once again, and fixes the telescope on it.

- Try the finder first, then--

- Yeah, yeah, - Miriam hurries to interrupt, and Bard catches the familiar notes of embarrassment in her voice. They gently bump their shoulder against hers in silent support. Miriam draws a steadying breath. - ...I think we got it. Uh, thanks.

She looks over at Bard, quietly tilting her head towards the telescope in invitation. They light up and step towards it, holding their breath. The most beautiful colors bloom in their mind, inspired by all the magical stellar landscapes pictured on the walls of the observatory. What will be the first shade of the whole rest of the Universe that they will see?

Bard puts their eye straight to the eyepiece (Winston whimpers somewhere out of view, forcibly choking the word ''finder'' back). They squint, trying to make anything out in the blur.

- Well?? - Miriam asks, antsy.

- Iiiii don't see anything! - Bard replies, hoping their disappointment is not too apparent in how hollow their usual casual tone comes out.

From the sounds of it, Winston is on the verge of unraveling as he is trying desperately to let the two figure things out on their own.

Miriam groans.

- Stupid overcomplicated glass tubes... Let me... - she steps towards the telescope cautiously, like it is a wild animal, and stares at it for a while. Then reaches for one of the lenses lined up at the end and moves it out of the way with an unsteady hand, looking deeply unsure and skeptical.

- Try now?..

Bard puts their eye back to the glass, trying really hard to not get their hopes up.

- Miriam, - they utter under their breath, - come look.

Through the lens of the telescope, they are seeing another world. It is distant, silent, seemingly unmoving. And yet, in the swirling pattern of stardust, they sense a spiraling dance, sweeping their soul away with it.

Pure, awe-struck exhilaration rises in their chest, all but bringing them to tears in a sudden crescendo – when suddenly, they feel their heart drop, endlessly, like it is hurtling through the dark suffocation of space surrounding the twirling stars.

The arms of the spiral galaxy, its overpowering gravity, remind them of the dark pull of the black hole at the end of time. And no matter how hard they try not to think about it, they know exactly what lies on the other side.

Bard all but jumps away from the telescope and stumbles backwards, instinctively throwing their hands up in front of them in a protective gesture. The familiar despair laps at her heart, and suddenly she feels so hopeless she could cry.

- Kiwi??

Bard blinks a couple of times and turns to Miriam, who is giving them the most concerned look they have ever gotten from her. Winston is hovering behind her, not even trying to conceal his panic.

Miriam steps towards them gingerly.

- Are you okay??

Kiwi draws a breath and tries to straighten himself up.

- I, uh... - they look at their feet, struggling to find any words that would sound at all plausible. But this time, they can hardly even convince themself to brush the overwhelming feeling off as unimportant, as their trained impulse commands.

Miriam takes another step and reaches for them, then freezes. She throws a quick self-conscious glance at Winston, one breath away from shriveling up. Winston seems to take it as a hint.

- Umm, I'll!!.. - he fumbles with his hands for a second before sharply turning around and marching over to the exit without another word, to descend back into the observatory.

Miriam remains frozen in place, stubbornly inspecting the patch of grate floor beneath her feet, until Winston's steps fade away; then throws her head up, looking at Kiwi with a concerned frown.

- What was that??

Bard looks down at the floor, uncertain, as if the needed words were scattered all around it in a chaotic pattern.

Miriam opens her mouth, seemingly preparing to speak again, but no words follow. She stops trying to catch Kiwi's eyes and lowers her own, crossing her arms.

Bard looks up to see her face overshadowed by a disheartened, lonely, distant expression, and feels a tug at their heart. Perhaps... Perhaps it's worth trying to talk about.

They lower themself to the floor, back leaning against the dome, and sigh shakily.

- Do you... do you ever get... scared?..

Miriam looks up, still lost, but apprehensively open.

- Like... in general?

Kiwi looks at their hands resting on top of the knees for a moment, trying to figure out what they are attempting to share.

- Of... the world, I think. Or... the universe... - they cross their arms and hold their shoulders. - How it's... really big.

Miriam's posture loosens and softens. She sits down next to Kiwi, hugging her knees, and looks at them expectantly.

Bard goes on.

- It's alright if there are a lot of people, - they're not sure this makes sense, but it's hard to talk about as it is, so they just let themself continue, - 'cause then together, you are something big enough? But if it's just you..., - they feel their mouth go dry and their body tense up with adrenaline, the vivid, unraveling sensations of the recent nights creeping up from the back of their mind. They swallow, hard, and grip their shoulders.

Miriam is silent for a good while.

- ...It's not, though, is it? Just you?..

Kiwi looks over to see her staring in front of herself with a concentrated, contemplative frown. Her words are coming out labored and strained, like she is unhappy with having to actually say them out loud.

Miriam's head sinks into her shoulders, just slightly, and her fists clench, before she speaks again, sounding almost fearful to assume:

- We're figuring it out together?..

Bard feels a crack at their heart, stinging and painful, breaking them away from the deep cold despair that's been filling it with steady certainty. They never meant to imply that Miriam's friendship is anything other than cherished, and comforting in every possible way.

- We are! - their smile comes out pensive, but somehow rejuvenating still, just like the fresh crack in their chest. He leans against Miriam's shoulder. - It's just.. - they take a second, trying to nail down the core of the overwhelming feeling that's been haunting them for the last couple of weeks, - what if we weren't?..

It's surprisingly hard to articulate what exactly is making Kiwi freeze with terror every night. This weird incessant pull, somewhere out of life, as if some part of them is trailing behind, threatening to bring them down with it, to drown them. Like some immeasurable weight their limbs are getting too numb to carry, slowing them down, making their legs give off, while everything else effortlessly speeds forward. They cannot find any context or explanation for it – not one they are ready to face, anyway. All they have is this overwhelming, overpowering, incomprehensible fear. What if they get left behind?

Miriam sits with the idea, silently. Her expression is difficult to read, but for a moment, Kiwi seems to catch a glisten in her eyes, and feels immeasurably guilty. They don't get to express their concern, though, before Miriam speaks up again.

- I... do get scared, - she takes a deeper breath, - of... being alone. Again. But I'm not. - The last words come out almost stubborn, like Miriam is arguing with a naysayer. - Things are changing, right?.. It... doesn't have to be the same.

Kiwi holds that thought: “Doesn't have to be the same”. They try to take comfort in it. A distant, neglected part of their heart aches and squirms at it, like a disturbed wound.

Doesn't matter. This can change. Everything else is.

The two sit in silence for a while, shoulder to shoulder, each rocked by their own waves of chilling thoughts. But – Bard has to remind themself – not alone. They are not alone.

- The stars are really cool, - they say quietly, with a small, meek smile. Miriam looks at them, glum and questioning. - You should try the telescope!

- ...Nah, - their friend replies after a moment of contemplation. - Whatever. - She rocks back and forth a couple of times in uncertainty before carefully suggesting: - ...Wanna go back inside?

Bard nods slowly.

- Maybe... in a moment?

Miriam wordlessly settles back in. Kiwi closes their eyes and leans heavier into the touch, focusing fully on the warmth of their friend's arm against their own, holding onto that feeling with everything they have.

They bring the telescope inside with them, already dismantled, and pack it into layers upon layers of protective wrapping with Winston's help. It is then hoisted up on Miriam's broom as she floats a couple of feet above ground, testing out if it would be possible to carry the instrument on her own.

Miriam slowly lowers the telescope to the ground and hops off.

- Should be fine?? - she says nervously, which does not at all reassure the sweaty and frantic novice astronomer. Winston gives her a shaky smile, nonetheless.

- Great! - he croaks out and rushes to change the subject. - Um!! If you're not in a hurry, Peter is coming over soon?? I thought it... might be good... - he trails off, looking at his guests in a silent plea to interpret the rest of the sentence on their own.

Bard and Miriam exchange glances. Bard certainly is not itching to go back to their Mom's... parents', home, and his friend does not seem to, either. Kiwi looks back at Winston and nods excitedly.

- Sounds great!! 🎶

Peter shows up about half an hour later, bringing his balalaika and, quite unexpectedly, a fruit basket. As Kiwi tries to process the dissonance between his ever-melancholic demeanor and the colorful bow on the basket's handle, Peter seems to be processing the presence of anyone but Winston at their meeting place. It doesn't take him too long, though. He silently hands Winston the gift, then turns to greet the two ex-co-saboteurs.

He shares a mutually awkward but overall amicable handshake with Miriam, then moves on to Bard and startles them once again, by putting a hand on their shoulder and sighing meaningfully.

- It is good to not be the only person of musical nature around here, - he shares. - I'm sure you are familiar with the longing.

- Sure! - Kiwi chirps out with a smile, not even trying to parse this.

The four of them settle down at the center of the large domed room, right on the floor, and Berry excitedly joins them, curling up between Winston and Miriam. The group passes the fruit basket around and shares the news from the last couple of months.

- Chismest is a changed place, - Peter shares solemnly while pulling apart a peeled orange. - People are no longer weighed down by the chains of numbing, thankless labour. We are finding joy in communal connection and personal power, once again. The need for manufacturable happiness substitutes is no more.

- Cool! - Bard looks at the small fuzzy kiwi fruit in their palms and considers the implications of eating it. - Langtree is sort of haunted now!

Winston produces a vague high-pitched sound in reaction to that, like a choking questioning laugh.

- Well, there were ghosts there before, - Bard readily elaborates, - because they were worried about their families before the... – a cold wave of terror washes over their heart, once again, at the thought of the end of their old universe, and they gulp, as subtly as they can, -...the world almost ending. And they did return to the Spirit World, at the end, but we can contact them through the songs they've left behind! And some of them just visit on their own. Mary always follows Woody around, so I guess... it's Woody who is sort of haunted now?

The room is silent, for a bit. Miriam absentmindedly nods along to the familiar story while picking berries out of her hand, and Winston and Peter are processing the mound of new information. At last, Peter nods wistfully.

- The world is healing at large, - he pronounces, chewing on an orange slice. - People are finding more ways to forge unbreakable bonds with those they meet and those they've lost. It fills me with great hope. I had to express it in a song, - he throws a somber, mournful look around the room, - it is in B major.

Peter strikes the first chord on his balalaika and closes his eyes, swaying slowly back and forth. Kiwi feels the familiar fizzy excitement of a life performance bubble up in her chest – along with a slight prick of jealousy: he never did get around to learning any instrument.

Peter continues his playing, the sound climbing up and up, reaching for some beautiful, exhilarating future that now, for the first time in many long years, seems to be just around the corner. The energy is moving and contagious, the waving melody pushing Kiwi's heart closer and closer to this sensation of unbounded hopeful anticipation with every strike against the strings.

Peter starts harmonizing, his melancholic voice blending with the movement of the music in paradoxical, enchanting ways. Winston joins in, his voice high and nervous, but bustling with genuine restless joy. For a while, it is just the two of them, singing their hopes and prayers for what tomorrow brings. They share a glance and smile at each other, a brief, shy moment.

Miriam, who's been nodding off for a while, is swaying softly to the rise and fall of the symphony with her eyes closed, hugging her knees. Then, there is a soft, unexpected sound as she quietly joins the harmonies, her voice gentle and raspy, as if she is simply muttering in her sleep. There is a small, hesitating smile on her face, lurking behind the hair falling in front of it, but visible enough from where Kiwi is sitting.

Miriam opens her eyes, leaving them half-lidded; her voice grows slightly louder. She looks over at Bard – and stops, the now so familiar confused, vaguely concerned frown setting in.

The sudden interruption on her part draws the attention of the other two, and now the whole room is looking at where Bard is sitting, back straight, extremely tense and hyper-aware of not having sung a single note.

There is a moment of deafening, unnerving silence as Peter stops playing.

Kiwi feels short of air.

They must look really pathetic, because the next moment, the music picks up again, mercifully, although without the same sort of blissful absorption. Winston and Peter return to singing between the two of them, as if conjuring an invisible screen for Miriam and Bard to communicate on the other side of. Miriam continues looking at Kiwi, concern growing deeper, grumpier.

Bard casts their eyes down and takes a shaky breath.

There is shuffling next to them, and suddenly they feel Miriam's hand on their own. They meet her questioning look once again, but she promptly averts her eyes, already feeling awkward. Instead, she squeezes their palm harder, passing on a bit of a reassurance.

They sit in silence for a while, one hand holding another firmly, until the song passes the bridge and returns to the final repetition of the chorus. Bard looks up at Miriam, and she looks at them. They find silent agreement in each other's eyes, and just as the first note of the chorus is about to break, they draw a synchronized breath and join in.

Bard's voice is quiet and unsure, and so is Miriam's, and there is comfort in that. It feels like mutual acknowledgment of something Kiwi isn't quite ready to put into words. And it's different from the high-spirited call of the song, but it belongs. And with every note shared in a low-key, tentative voice between the two, Bard feels a bit more secure.

The melody draws the two of them in once again, gradually and insistently, and at the end of the chorus, their voices sound firmer, brighter, conceiving of the same reassuring promise. The final note rings in the air, and the company shares a moment of sweet, comfortable, inspired silence. Then, without a word, Peter strikes the strings again.

The second time around, all four of them sing from start to end. Kiwi gives Miriam a grateful, timid smile. They settle into a comfortable volume, audible but private enough. There is still a slight tremor to it, and from time to time, it tumbles down, missing the high upbeat note. But Bard tries to find relief in the comfortable unity the group is sharing, and the others seem willing to accommodate. Through all the self-consciousness and hesitation, and the deep underlying fear of what it means to struggle with something so natural, Bard tries to focus on the swelling of the music, and lets it carry them wherever it wishes.

The door to the Observatory opens in the middle of the song, letting in the cold night air and Elara, looking tired but distinctly happy. She lingers at the entrance, taking the sound in, then slips past the group into her room, as quietly as she can - but leaves the door just slightly ajar.

Here and now, everything is alright.

***

It's like being dragged on a hook wedged deep into your heart. Your tired, aching heart, endlessly bleeding out into the nothingness around you.

The world is twirling in a symphony of color and sound, somewhere else, somewhere ahead, somewhere that exists. Somewhere with space to soar through in its triumphant spiraling dance.

It is a state you can never reach again. You are expulsed, empty, broken. The world chose light and movement. It chose to leave you far behind. The weight of you was never significant enough to make it reconsider its trajectory.

You were never significant enough to stay around for.

It's a cruel joke, to still sense it, constantly, hurled through space and time you are left on the outside of. The proverbial hook sits firmly in your beating flesh. Every turn of the unfathomable planet indulging in its endless dance out of sight, out of any conception to your lost, isolated mind, is another tug on your pulsing wound. Each of them reminds you of the life that goes on without you.

The elusive, torturous link drags you along, like an endless drawing punishment. You resent it for leading you on. Why keep any illusion of connection when you have already been severed, irredeemably, tossed aside like a rotten part threatening the whole? Why tether you to the existence that is no longer yours, if not to take sick pleasure in giving you false hope, and watch you agonize over every movement of the vital dance far beyond?

Life is malicious. It did not simply choose to leave you behind. It decided to never let you forget.

You're not giving it the satisfaction of making you hope. It will have to learn that you were never foolish enough to believe, even for a moment, that you are not alone.

***

Kiwi wakes up with a start and bolts upwards, hand at their chest, gripping the fabric of their pajamas. They are short of breath. Again.

Desperately wading through the panic flooding their brain, they attempt a breath, waiting for the tightness in their chest to soften and recede, bit by bit, letting her steady her heartbeat. Once they can fill their lungs again, they breathe in, deep, and pull their knees up to their chest to hide their face in.

The panic fades, leaving them one on one with the dull, isolating desperation. It sits at the center of their being, patient, waiting for them to turn their attention to it. And Kiwi tries his very best not to, but it's there, time after time.

They look up to where Miriam is asleep on the opposite end of the couch, her knees tucked up to her torso. She looks grumpy, even now – perhaps because Bard had straightened their legs in their sleep, again, not leaving her with much space to get comfortable. Or it might be the blanket that has fallen to the floor, leaving her open to the chilly atmosphere of a Chismest night.

Kiwi slides off the couch, as lightly and quietly as she can, and walks over to the fuzzy woven quilt. They pick it up and hold it in their hands for a moment. It's about as old as them, and worn, and the hastily mended patches look glaringly out of place even in the heavily dispersed light. Bard covers Miriam, as slowly and gently as possible, and hopes the threadbare blanket is enough to keep her warm.

They shrivel and hug themself, staying still for a moment, in the dark and quiet. Or... partial quiet. From their, parents', room, they can hear the quiet cooing that immediately transports them to their childhood, and the many sleepless nights spent with Mom peacefully dozing behind the closed door. Tonight, she is joined by deep, mighty sighs and an occasional cough, uncannily close to jingling chimes. Kiwi isn't sure they will be able to fall asleep again, with the new addition disrupting the more familiar ambiance.

She looks over her shoulder, to the window, behind which the colorful flowers are gently bobbing their heads in the quiet wind. That is familiar, at least. A splotch of color in the dark northern night, as she stands alone, barefoot, cold, feeling inexplicably lonely.

Bard leans into the familiar sensation of rough floorboards under their soles as they quietly make their way to the window. He climbs up onto the chair pushed against it and gently presses his hand against the frame. It opens, letting a gust of crisp fresh air in. Bard takes a deep breath, hoping the night chill sobers them up, soothes them, yanks them out of this quicksand of weird, confusing feelings.

The night tastes so disorientingly different. Breathing is easier than it has ever been around these parts, with the once ever-present tint of soot gone and all but forgotten. The air is pure and sweet, and the flowers blooming in it are shining brighter than ever.

Bard looks at them with distant eyes, feeling herself sink deeper into the sand. Their defiant colors used to be a source of greatest comfort. The many nights spent at the window, leaning onto the ceiling and looking out, endlessly waiting, passed easier with the company of the resilient blooms, still joyful and bright in this cold, suffocating place. When the flowers responded to Kiwi's song with a play of color, a new nightly routine took root. Bard barely thought about the wait, anymore. It was about the shimmering petals, the glow in the dark night saturated with smog, and the promise of greener pastures somewhere far away. It was a promise of a different place, full of sun and nature and song, where the world would respond to the melody of their heart.

Chismest is that place, now. Its own brand of it, and definitely falling behind Langtree when it came to daytime hours, but renewed, and welcoming, and singing. A redeemed and reclaimed environment, no longer poisoning all life it gives home to. And the flowers at their Mother's windowsill seem to celebrate that with every fiber, unfolding proudly and happily to drink in the fresh clean air. The world has changed for the better, and they healed alongside it, naturally, as its inalienable part.

...Can Bard still do the same?

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Just a simple song. One sweet song to share with their long-term friends, to join in on the celebration.

Bard exhales a note, low and soft as to not wake Miriam up, feeling around for the melody they sang not so long ago: Peter's new piece. Just as earlier, they are stumbling over the notes, which feel clumsy and wrong in their chest, like a puzzle piece that is being forced into a misshapen hole. But perhaps, that is okay, Bard reassures themself. It doesn't have to be perfect. It has always been enough to just sing from their heart.

They open one eye, fearfully, their face scrunched up into an apprehensive cringe.

The color does not shift even a shade. Notes fall flat onto the petals, not one of them moved even in the slightest.

Bard lets the song die away once their breath is exhausted. They look at the flowers, endlessly lost, searching for any hint of an answer. What had to even happen to take something so natural away from them? What could they possibly have lost?..

Something scary crawls up to the forefront of his mind, replacing the vaguely panicked confusion with a feeling of cold doom. He could try singing differently. He could sound the notes that have been ringing in his ear the past weeks.

Kiwi breathes deep. Singing the song would mean... something. Something big. It almost feels like on the other side of it, they might stop recognizing themself. But... if this is the only one they have left--

Over on the couch, Miriam grumbles in her sleep and fusses under the blanket, disturbed by the cold night air. Kiwi hurriedly pushes the window shut. Their friend settles a few seconds later, burrowing deeper under the warm cover.

Bard sighs and throws one final dejected glance at the unresponsive flowers on the other side of the glass. They curl up in the chair and hold themself tight for the rest of the night.

[haxorus-imp]

Human Perspective - Reader LBP fic

Gender neutral Reader - No romance - Little Big Planet - No dialogue 

A human is lost in the imagisphere and is struggling to cope with their new surroundings. AO3 for those that prefer to read it there - > https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741977

You really don’t remember how you arrived here in this strange place. One moment you were resting peacefully, the next thing you know, you were being woken up by a small little humanoid fabric creature.

Once your eyes focused, you had gotten startled upright from the presence of the being, which was obviously understandable. In a hurry, you scoot away from the being and frantically look around. Despite just waking up, it took mere moments for you to realize that something was completely off about the land you were in...let alone how you got there. You were left completely dumbfounded. The small little humanoid seemed a bit worried about you, despite just meeting you.

Flustered, your confusion only grew when you tried to ask the little creature where you were and it simply spoke in sign language. Which you didn’t understand. Seeing your expression of complete loss, the little being thought for a moment before it decided to wave at you in a ‘follow me’ motion as they turned and waddled away. Still lost and confused, you really didn’t have a choice.

You picked yourself up and followed the little being through some garden-like areas before the landscape began to change and buildings made out of wood and cardboard slowly appeared. While on the walk over to who-knows-where, you decided to slightly distract yourself with looking around at your surroundings.

It was strange, as it almost felt like you were back home on Earth. However, this was far from the case. An example of your strange predicament lies in the horizon and around yourself. It was all made of fabric...just like the ground was...with an exception of other things. Like the cardboard buildings and creatures that dwelled nearby, as well as the fabric clouds that floated on by. The only thing that could be deemed ‘normal’ around here, at least to you, was the water that flowed in the rivers under the bridges you two passed by. Everything was strangely made to look like projects of arts and crafts.

Not even the locals were exempted from this rule. As the little creature that was leading you somewhere was made entirely of knitted wool. I just left you puzzled and completely stumped at where you even were.

But hopefully this little biped would be able to provide some answers. Your first set of strange contacts was with a small group that the little sack...thing...person...was leading you towards. Your approach didn’t go unnoticed. Once you and the little creature arrived, the three figures were giving you wary glances. But the little sackperson stepped forward and began to sign to them. It was quite a surprise to learn that these larger beings seemed to be British...despite this place not looking like Earth. A bit of back and forth later and you finally managed to introduce yourself and explain your situation to the three larger beings. In which, they introduced themselves to you as well.

There was Larry Da Vinci, an elderly individual with a paper beard and cardboard 3D glasses, who seemed to be rather forgetful, as it took him a moment to remember his own name before the bun-having blonde next to him spoke up.

Her name was Victoria, who had doll-like features and a steampunk-inspired body. She also seemed to be very polite too. Despite being an older female, her and Da Vinci even seemed to be a thing. If the sweet-based names he kept calling her had anything to say for it.

Then there was a rather depressed-looking individual named Clive, who was a man with an eraser for a body and a cyan desk calendar for a head, which was just to name a few things that caught your eye about him. It was just so strange to see paperclips merely sticking to a body without an anchor. But he was still polite none-the-less, even if he wasn’t as enthusiastic as Larry or Victoria.

As for yourself? Well, you were a human. Made of flesh and blood, unlike the natives of this realm you happened to get lost in. It wasn’t hard to take notice of how the others would look at you strangely from time to time.

Not only just because you showed up out of nowhere, but because your appearance just seemed...as that Ginger-Haired prideful loudmouth ‘Avalon’ would put it - “Highly suspicious-looking”. You didn’t think you looked that bad...or creepy. So, you just played down their doubts by just explaining that you're from very far away and that you were lost. It took a bit of convincing from Sackthing to see if Larry had any leads on what to do.

Many of them acted like they had never seen a human before and it wasn’t hard to see why. I mean, they even thought you looked ill and took you to an apple-headed nurse, who was strangely in a birdcage of all things, named Eve to have a look at you. She apparently tried to find your ‘stitching’, which took you awhile to explain that you weren’t born with ‘stitching’. She seemed completely lost with your explanation on a normal human body and she did some typical tests. Took your temperature, tested your reflexes, and gave you a few psychological tests. All came back okay, showing that you were in fact a perfectly normal human being. Even if she seemed slightly disappointed. The rest of the time was spent visiting the other creators once word got around that a unique stranger was visiting Craftworld from ‘very far away’. Despite meeting a fair chunk of them within the first few hours.

It was most likely Avalon who let the cat out of the bag, the dude probably can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. If your first encounter with him had anything to say about it. Dude even had the nerve to call you a ‘rubbery-looking tall weirdo’.

Thankfully, Larry chewed him out for his rudeness before you could. So one by one, you met the creator curators and visited their homelands with Larry as your guide, since sackthing had other duties to attend to at the time.

It was quite an exhausting trip. Thankfully most of the realms could be accessed by rocketships that were provided by Larry Da Vinci. Yes, rocketships. Made out of cardboard...with a jet attached to them.

You didn’t understand how they worked, so you pretty much just went with it and didn’t ask any questions. Each encounter was as unique as they came as you headed off to the other parts of Craftworld with Larry. Your first encounter was with the lovely baker you met before, Victoria. She was very interesting to say the least, having a lab and bakery hybrid that she called home. She explored the possibilities of pastries and science. A strange combination. She even tried to offer you some of her baked goods, which you sadly discovered you couldn’t eat. At all . You just couldn’t force yourself to eat a literal SPONGE cake, so you had to turn her down gently but gratefully thanked her for the offer anyway. After that was Clive, the same depressed individual from earlier. You eventually discover that  he has lived in a factory for most of his life and just knows the day in and day out of being at work constantly. No wonder the poor sap was so blue. He obviously needed a long vacation. After a typical meet and greet, you toured the factory he called home and had a lot of fun watching how things operated while Clive rambled on and on about work and various activities he would perform around the factory. You even got to meet the cute little sackbots while you were there. Which was a pleasant experience in itself! After that was Eve’s Asylum where she and Professor Higginbottom were located. You met Higginbottom at the Asylum. Which was probably the strangest thing you have ever experienced...aside from being lost in this fabric dimension. He seemed like someone who got into the bong and never came out. Though, listening to him talk was quite entertaining. Even if you didn’t understand anything that came from his mouth. Eve was present there as well. Despite the underwhelming encounter from earlier, Eve was still elated to observe you and see how you were coping.  She apparently ran the asylum that was filled with beautiful flora, magical trees, and crazy people. Which wasn’t a surprise, but you were just happy that they were under the care of someone as loving as Eve. Even if she got a bit frustrated that she couldn’t make heads or tails about your ‘strange biology predicament’. Even with an unnecessary ‘second analysis’. Then finally, there was Avalon. The dude was about as loud and as arrogant as they came.

However, he pushed it to a point where he made it endearing rather than annoying, but your traveling companion could beg to differ. It seemed that Larry and Avalon had a lot of disagreements on who was the leader of “The Alliance”. Whatever that was. Both of them mixed like oil and vinegar, like broccoli and pizza, like boomers and millennials...it was honestly kinda funny to watch them bicker. However, you haven’t forgotten that rude comment he made about you. So you were still on the fence with him. Still, Avalonia was a wonderful place to visit. Looking at all of the strange gadgets that were made, the types of vehicles, and the sheer ethereal aura that the place radiated...Avalon really did have a strong reason to flex after all.

But as fun as it was to visit these Curators, you still needed to find your way home. Plus, you had to keep moving if you were going to be able to find anything to eat.

I mean, you have been offered food on numerous occasions while on your trip, however it wasn’t anything you could actually eat. ‘Sponge’ cakes, icing that was too sweet, jam that was too sticky, crackers that were made of cardboard, cookies made out of paper, fruit made out of fabric or plastic… It was all fake...and you were starting to starve.

Your lack of eating also seemed to worry Larry, but you feigned being fine. Despite the fact that you hadn’t really eaten in days. It was wearing down on you pretty bad at this point. Despite your lie, Larry seemed to still be lost on what to do with you. You honestly couldn’t blame him though. You were quite an enigma. Then, Larry was reminded of something and had explained that he was going to go to a place called Bunkum to attend a session in a place called Popit Academy and graciously offered if you wanted to visit while he was participating. At that time, you really didn’t know that you could explore other planets...but this was a strange new universe with strange new ways. So what could possibly go wrong?

So, from one planet made of patches to one with strange gadgets on it, you arrive at a place called “Needlepoint Peaks”.

Which was filled with crisp mountain air and little floating objects that harassed you at every angle. It was quite frustrating, as they would cling to you and you would have to constantly shake them loose. It seemed to amuse Larry to the point of chuckling as you both headed down the mountain together. While on the way, you even decided to take a bite out of the crackers that were sticking out of the ground. Which turned out to be a big mistake.

The ‘treat’ was about as stale as they come. It was hard to chew and it had the lingering scent of cardboard and dust. You promptly spat it out and coughed violently while Larry looked at you like you had lost your marbles.

Despite everything looking tasty, it was all dried and stale, nothing more than deceptive decorations for your ever growing hunger that gnawed away at you from your insides. You could only sigh helplessly as you passed the deceptive goodies and just focused on following Larry to the next destination. Once down from the mountain, both of you arrived at a place called ‘Stitchem Manor’, which seemed to be occupied by two lightbulbs and a monster. The family greeted Larry and seemed to notice you, despite you attempting to hide your taller figure behind the Elder Curator. The smaller lightbulb seemed to be very eager to meet you, as he strode up and waved and said a rather friendly hello. You timidly come out of hiding and meet up with him too. Returning the greeting politely. The lightbulb seems to happily chitter about as you stare at him. He then graciously introduces you to his father, a clear idol in his eyes, and his mother. Who wasn’t a monster. She just looked scary as hell.

You politely greet them in return and Larry explains your situation to the family. It seemed that Larry had decided to see if you could visit with the Pud family, which was a rather strange name, until he was through with his lessons at the popit academy. Seeing if one of them was available to show you around Bunkum until he came back later. You almost rolled your eyes at the thought of needing a guide or babysitter, but you didn’t know this place. So you really should stick with someone until you understand the ropes. The younger-looking lightbulb, who was named Newton, proudly volunteers to show you around Bunkum. A desire to give his ‘new strange-looking chum the best tour of Bunkum they have ever experienced’. So he says. Apparently, his parents were both worried about his proposal. Not because of you, but apparently Newton had caused a heap of trouble for the natives of Bunkum and was still in too-hot water because of it. Despite making peace with most of the locals and trying to clear his name from the titan incident...whatever that was. It sounds bad just by the name alone.

However, after enough begging, his parents gave in and decided to allow him to show you around Bunkum. Satisfied with the ordeal, Larry had headed off and Newton’s parents headed back inside the large manor.

Once alone, Newton had grabbed your hand before suddenly letting go in surprise. When questioned, he just stared and made a comment about how your ‘knitting’ felt strange against his hands. You just merely shrugged and walked ahead, Newton quickly taking the lead again as he rambled on and on about stuff to do while you were visiting.

The first stop was Manglewood. Which could only be reached by boat. Which just made the ride over much more boring than usual, except when Newton would talk about it and mention all the things to do there. It helped to pass the time until the island in question came into view. By appearance alone, you would’ve thought you both were lost in some bayou in the heart of Louisiana, but that wasn’t far enough from the truth. There were film reels, movie cameras, and set pieces all strewn about the landscape. Making it look like a set that was covered in moss and willows. However, you also took notice of a strange figure sitting at the edge of the landmass. Simply sitting there and watching the boat. Once close enough, you seemed to make out that it appeared to be...dog-like? Like a sock puppet type of dog? It was just waiting there and once you both touched down on land, it sped over to investigate. In which, it happily jumped aboard and sniffed around.

Once it glanced at Newton, it’s face changed to a certain type of disinterest but once it scanned over to you, it began to wag its’...butt...and bark happily. You confusedly look at the animal before waving and greeting the...dog-thing. Having it jump up on you and lick you with a fabric tongue, thankfully it didn’t seem to leave any slobber behind.

Newton explained that it was a creature called Oddsock and it seemed to be protecting Manglewood. He almost seemed a tad bit jealous that Oddsock had taken a liking to you so quickly, even if he didn’t show it openly.

He led you off of the boat and further into Manglewood, the dog sticking close to your side.

There, you both found a man who introduced himself as Marlon Random.

He was quite a character. Looking like a spool of film with a strange hairstyle to go with it, the dancing, the personality, the references to movies and such...he was probably the most enjoyable to be around. He didn’t even seem to mind Newton. Greeting him as if it was any other day, in which Newton had replied half-heartedly and explained your situation. Once Marlon heard of your plight, he stopped and looked at you closer. Taking notice of your strange appearance as well, he nods and laughs lightly. Eager to show Manglewood to you, despite Newtons’ protests. You had decided to visit the space area and discovered that floating in space was incredibly fun. The zero gravity, peaceful music playing in the background, and just the weightlessness of it all...it was truly an experience. After that, he took you over to the old-style diner. You jammed out to some old-style tunes, which strangely came from Earth of all places, and you even tried to take a few bites out of the food laying around. Getting the same result as the one from Needlepoint Peaks. You even tried the milkshakes. Which were SO SWEET. Too sweet even!

It was like everything around here was made out of two dumptruck loads of sugar. Plus, you couldn’t really force past it, as it was strong enough to hurt your teeth anyway. One secret spit out later and you lot had decided to settle in for a bite.

With the exemption of you. So while Newton, Marlon, and even Oddsock enjoyed the food...you found yourself without a meal yet again. Your aching belly rumbling in disdain as you sigh quietly. You just had to endure for a bit longer...you would get home soon...hopefully. Thankfully there was water to drink. So you had that instead. Still, you had a kick watching Newton shove fries and pieces of food into that hole in his neck. Which made sense, as he simply couldn’t shove it past the glass that covered his head. It just made you wish you could enjoy it with them...wait...why were they looking at you...why were they laughing --? A tickling sensation pretty much crawled around you as those bothersome floating objects began to stick to you again, resulting in you crying out in agitation and shaking about in the seat to dislodge them. Your companions seemed to find the situation hilarious as you pluck them off and flick them away from yourself. Huffing a bit at your group as they laugh at your grumpiness. But once it was all said and done, the last places being too ‘dangerous’ for you to explore, you both decided it would be time to head out to the Ziggurat. You would’ve headed to a place called ‘Zom Zom’s’ however Newton explained that he only took a special type of currency called ‘collectabells’, which got a chuckle out of you. Sadly, you didn’t really have any currency at all. So you skipped on going there. He probably wouldn’t have anything in your size anyway. So, both of you cross the bridge and ride the gondola into the distance while Marlon and Oddsock waved you both off. In no time at all, the temperature began to drop and snow began to fall from the sky. The wind from the gondola didn’t help the situation either, your clothes could barely keep out the chill. Newton didn’t seem bothered by it, which wasn’t a surprise to you. That fluffy coat he was wearing looked comfortable.

You would ask to wear it, but it was just too small for you. Plus, Lightbulbs radiate heat, so he was probably all warm and toasty underneath that fabric. Talk about being lucky.

Finally, the gondola came to a hill and along that hill seemed to be a towering figure. It almost looked like a burlap sack...like something you would shove potatoes in. Once closer though, it seemed similar to the last creature you encountered.

If logical reasoning could be fathomed here, that must be this land’s protector as well. Seeing by how they grew alert to the approaching elevator. Once it stopped and you and Newton stepped off, the large figure approached curiously. Similar to before, the creature met Newton with a poker face about as blank as the snow, but he gave you a rather silly smile once he looked in your general direction. What you didn’t expect was a large friendly hug to accompany that smile. You were pretty much scooped up and pressed against the taught cloth-chest of the large figure, gasping for air as it cuddled you. Newton began by explaining that this was the Ziggurat, which also happened to be Toggles’ home. Which was the name of the creature hugging you. He told you about the grand library and the ballets that would be held here every day and that hopefully you would enjoy the shows while you both were here. With a few desperate taps on Toggle, you were released and were finally able to get a full breath of air. You almost felt bad for Toggle’s worried face, but a reassured pat on their arm seemed to make them satisfied that you were okay. You walk along, following Newton as he gives you a brief tour of the entrance. Toggle following close behind you both as you walk towards a large and towering brass-like structure that was the centerpiece of this frozen wasteland.

Then, you met Papal Mache in the temple sanctum. Who gave Newton a rather skeptical glance after your arrival before staring at you for a brief moment. Once again, another remark on your appearance was made.

It almost made you wanna put a bag over your head and hide away from the world.

And what is with everyone asking where your ‘stitching’ was? You’re not made of fabric!

You just let out another sigh as Newton repeated the spill from earlier encounters while you busied yourself by looking at the temple architecture. From the looks of it, it seemed to be the insides of a large pipe organ, with stained glass windows of ballerinas and russian-esque soldiers. Which made sense, as Russia was known for its musical culture and revered classics in the modern world. While you admired the art and such, Papal Mache seemed to understand and decided to escort you both down to the library. Which was being looked after by...a dog...woman...thing.

You simply just shake your head and decide to listen in on her history lessons that were offered to you, which were indubitably interesting and selectively inspiring.

Especially once you began to read some of the pamphlets that Toggle helped save from a flood. Toggle even stayed and sat down to listen to his heroic deeds for a bit. Out of curiosity, you pick up one of the pamphlets. No wonder the lady-dog would’ve been so upset to lose some of this history, it was pretty interesting! However, it was short-lived once Newton grew bored and pulled you away from the library with a rushed goodbye to the friendly dog lady. Nearly leaving Toggle behind. Only then did you realize how cold you were getting from the temperature after sitting still on a cold floor. You begin to shudder as the cold wind brushes against you and you slow down as the cold bites at your flesh.

Curiously, Newton had questioned what was wrong as you trembled helplessly in the frigid gales. Once you explained that humans can get something called hypothermia from excessive cold and die, Newton practically flipped his lid.

A quick grasp of your hand and he took off with you in tow.

He quickly rushed past Papal Mache and through the temple to get you to a large furnace on the other side.

Once close enough, you could feel the warmth of the furnace melting away the freezing ice that had wrapped itself around your body. Replacing it with warmth and comfort. Once at the entrance, you graciously sit down on the warmed metal and let out a blissful sigh of relief. You were pretty much scolded by Newton for not telling him earlier and a worried Papal Mache arrived on scene not much later. A brief questioning later and Papal figured it might be best if you don’t stay here too long. Not that he didn’t enjoy new visitors, but because you just weren’t equipped for such freezing temperatures. Which were even worse when night fell.

You nodded in understanding and let out a sigh of brief disappointment, but the snow was hard to endure at this point. Once you thawed out, you both would be heading to your final destination, Bunkum Lagoon.

The sound of small rapid footsteps grace your ears as a smaller version of the big guy came scuttling onto the scene. A brief slide later and suddenly it was the big guy again! Only then did you realize what ‘Toggle’ meant. It made you almost wanna laugh. Papal Mache decided to speak up to the large silent hero about your incident and Toggle seemed to become saddened by the news, but nodded in understanding anyway. You felt bad for such a rapid departure, but what else could be done? It was best to finish touring Bunkum so you could get back to Stitchem Manor so you could wait for Larry. Once you got warm enough, you stood up from the ground and Newton rejoined you as both of you walked back into the temple and towards the back where a large elevator awaited. Both of you got on and Papal Mache and Toggle waved their farewells as the elevator began to move and drop down. You had no idea how this would get you to a lagoon, but if you weren’t at the risk of getting hypothermia, you may like it a bit more… Newton seemed to be more apprehensive about this place, unlike the last two places you both visited. He began to talk about a wicked queen who probably boils her disrespectful subjects in hot oil and how she would probably tear him limb from limb if she as much as smelled him. You probably broke a sweat listening to his anxious worries about the next destination. Didn’t seem to be as peaceful as the last two places, just from what he was saying alone. You gulped as the air began to become more humid as the elevator slowed to a stop.

Once outside, the first thing your eyes caught was the sunset that was glistening over the very large lake that resided in a city filled with towering spires and buildings. You couldn’t hide a gasp of awe as you stepped out into the residential areas and admired the masquerade theme that the city had going for it. Plus, there were airships and clouds as far as your eyes could see. It was truly breathtaking. Newton slowly slinked out after you, scanning around as if to keep an eye out for danger. You had thrown caution to the wind as you walked out further into the Lagoon, Newton squeaking and following behind you for a change. You pretty much just happily stroll through the town, looking at all of the cardboard, stickers, and crafted creatures fluttering about. A stark contrast to a human like yourself.

Suddenly, a sudden shout came from above. The noise made Newton cry out in fear as he hid behind yourself as a hovering platform came into your view. On top of it was a marionette looking female as she called down to the both of you. From the tone of her voice, you already knew you weren’t gonna like her. Her tone was bratty and easily portrayed the type that she was. That type being a heavily spoilt princess that expected everyone to obey and respect them, despite them not deserving any. She was also being followed by another sack creature, this one resembling a bird. She immediately began to chew out Newton for one reason or another, you weren’t exactly paying attention as she hissed at your companion. It was almost like she was demanding an explanation as to why he was in ‘her’ kingdom. Newton had managed to pluck up enough courage to creep out from behind yourself as he explained your situation once more. About how you were from ‘very far away’ and a friend had asked if someone was willing to show Bunkum to the newcomer. Despite the fact that he tried to pass it off as him trying to make amends by doing this ‘tour’ with you. Despite the fact that he selflessly volunteered for it, no pressuring from his father or anything. Still, you said nothing as the ‘Queen of Bunkum’ introduced herself to you and you to Swoop, who had landed and was staring at you after giving Newton another neutral passing glance. It even almost seemed to flutter happily for a bit. It made you wonder why all of these sack creatures seemed to be happy to see you, but that can be pondered later. Right now, you just wanted to go and explore this last location before the night began to fall.

With courtesy, you bowed a bit and greeted Pinky. Being sure to call her ‘queen’ in a respectful manner. She looked like the type that was prone to suck-ups.

In which you assumed correctly. Almost seemingly flustered with your polite behavior, she cackles a bit before welcoming you to the Lagoon and ‘knowing fully well that you WILL enjoy your stay ’. However she does give you a warning to keep ‘that yellow ninny’ out of trouble, to which you assured her that she had nothing to be concerned for. Satisfied, she calls swoop back to her side and the levitating platform hovers off into the distance. A thankfully short encounter. Newton lets out a relieved sigh as you continue on. A desire to explore in your veins as the sun continues to set. It was kinda sad that you couldn’t hang out with the bird like you could the other two, but it probably has a job protecting the queen. Still, you continued on. Your lightbulb co-conspirator follows you from close behind. Just waiting to see what you decide to do with the rest of your day. And It was a rather eventful rest of the day.

Both you and Newton had attended various events. Such as an air joust festival, a puppet show, and you two even climbed the tallest tower in the district and listened to the bells of the tower ring. You even got to see the ‘legendary creative heart’, which was strangely disturbing. Despite it being just a giant valentine heart with large bird wings, it still pulsed like an actual heart. You honestly didn’t know how the locals could stand being next to it for so long. Even from this distance it was loud enough for you to hear. You just brush it off and try to ignore all of the bothersome floaty things that came from it. Hopefully none of them would stick to you. At the end of your trip, you both stopped on a pier to watch the sunset over the lagoon. The purple and pink clouds just brought out a tranquility in the atmosphere that almost made you forget about your troubles and your lingering sleepless exhaustion. Despite being here for about a few days, you were starving and getting any sleep was rather rare. Mostly since weird things would occur while you were dozing.

You fell asleep in the rocketship once and a large flower garden had grown up around you while you had slept and you only took notice when you woke up. It was hard to explain it to Larry. You even crashed in Clive’s factory and when you awakened, some new robots were by your side. Seemingly not made in the factory at all, as they didn’t even have the same body shape as the Sackbots. Clive was about as stumped as you were when you showed him. It was just...when you fell asleep, weird stuff would happen to you and the things that surrounded where you were sleeping. So now, you just try to stay awake as much as possible. Even if your eyelids felt like cinder blocks and tiredness nipped at your aching muscles. The thing that bothered you the most as your empty stomach.

If you couldn’t sleep nor eat, how would you even make it out of here?

There was no sustenance to keep you going. You’re pretty much running on emergency energy right now. Burning stored calories and trying to stay alive while you were at it. The constant insomnia was also wearing down on you. You just felt like you could fall asleep right here on the pier. But Newton jostles you awake by reminding you that you both had to head back to Stitchem Manor before night fell on Bunkum. You nod slowly in understanding and finally muster the strength to stand up with a long stretch. From there, Newton led the way back to his home. Leading back the way you came. Back up the mountain, back through the Ziggurat, back down the mountain, through the swamp again, and back to the boat. Once you both set sail, you watch the sinking sun with a lazy gaze.

It was quite a trip...but you really wish you were home. It wasn’t like you were miserable here. These strangers were so nice and open to you, despite your off-putting appearance. You just wished you had something to eat right now...and maybe a nap. Or a thousand year sleep, which would be far better. Still, Stitchem Manor came into view at the cliffside and you both began to dock the boat. By the time you both arrived home, the sky had turned to twilight as you slowly walked after Newton.

Who seemed to be rather jovial after todays ‘adventure’. Both Nana Pud and Captain Pud were there to greet you both at the gates of the manor, Larry Da Vinci was there as well. Seemingly having an idle chit chat while you both arrived. Once you two were noticed, you sluggishly came to a stand still next to Larry while Newton griped about being pampered by his doting mother. You and Larry couldn’t help but chuckle as you all said your goodnights and you and Larry headed away from the manor. You manage to look over your shoulder as the younger lightbulb seems to be happily waving to you while he and his parents go inside the manor. You returned the favor, albeit a bit more slowly as exhaustion slowly caught up to you. Once you were out of sight of the manor, Larry had asked how your day went. You pretty much told him everything. About the fun you had in Manglewood, the freezing experience in the Ziggurat, and the jousting shows in Bunkum Lagoon. You spoke of all the people you met and how Newton was informative and made sure to look after you. It seemed to earn Larrys’ approval as he nods as the pod comes into sight. Once you both were aboard and a course was set for Craftworld, you decided to settle in on the pillows on the far side of the pod. Where it was a bit quieter than the control room. Larry decided that he would drive you both back to Craftworld while you took a nap. You didn’t mind and happily accepted the offer. Though, he probably could tell that you weren’t getting enough sleep. You could practically see the darkness lining your eyes.

Now you were wrapped up in soft materials and laying in a nest made from pillows and such. Your mind was so tired and strained from being awake for so long that all you could think about was how many people you met in the last few days. How many potential friends you could make...but it was still a mystery as to how you arrived on Craftworld in the first place. Let alone how to get out of this dimension and safely back to Earth. If you wanted to go back...that is. I mean, you were still hungry. Even more so now. You could only sigh as the feelings of hunger went away some time ago after you tried to not focus on anything. You were still lost. Even if you met some friendly faces along the way. Still... how did you get here? And how do you get back? You merely blink as these questions run through your mind and you just let out a deep exhale and close your eyes tightly. You just needed some sleep for now. Maybe this is all just one big fever dream and you’ll wake up back in your normal bed with normal humans around you. No fabric, no cardboard, so sponges...just flesh and bones. Organic stuff... REAL stuff.

Or...at least the things you HOPE were REAL things. Oh, but it was just another problem to solve for tomorrow.

You let out another final long sigh as your heavy eyes finally close and you drifted off to sleep in record time.

Blissfully unaware of the images and energy seeping from your head while you slept peacefully throughout the whole trip back to Craftworld.

[how-masterful]

Remastered

Dhawan!master x reader

Chapter 1: The Crimson Horror

Summary: After falling victim to curiosity and finding yourselves in the clutches of the dastardly mrs Gillyflower and her strangely silent partner mr sweet- the now cured master, after escaping from the factories reject pile and surviving the failed preservation process, descends onto Sweetville with one mission: finding and saving his human. That is, if he can find you- and if you can be saved...

Notes: oh my god, its finally here! I've been so excited to start this series, the reception to the announcement was absolutely heartwarming! I've had so many ideas for where i can take this, i hope you all enjoy!

A big thank you to @plethora-of-imagines , you've been the complete supportive backbone of this series! I hope you enjoy! ❤

The gate to Sweetville loomed through the late night mist, piercing the dark through the weak glow of the streetlamps flanking its entrance. The Master stood before the wrought iron, TCE gripped tight in his palm. The air was cold, the Yorkshire chill biting at the back of his neck. But the rage inside him burnt hotter than any fire ever could.

He knew you were there, you had to be. There was no possible way you'd ended up on the reject pile like he did, the pilgrims at the factory would've made sure you survived the process. Too many rejects caused too many questions, are you were far too beautiful an Eve to miss out on mrs Gillyflower's home grown eden.

The lock on the gate cracked with a metalic whirr, the Master slipping between the open bars and descending on the row of houses before him. Perfectly pristine doors and windows lined the house's of Sweetville's main street, the flowerbeds decorating the center soon trodden under the Master's vengeful feet.

Instinct told him to kick each door down, rampaging the Victorian utopia until he found where they'd kept you. But he knew, for your sake, he had to stick to the silent dark. Exposing his presence would no doubt ruin any chance of getting you back to the revivication chamber and curing you of your petrified state. If you could be cured, that is.

The horrified expression on your face when you'd both been brought to the front door still burned inside his head, the petrified people soon exposed alongside the dome they resided in. You'd instinctively dived into his arms as the pilgrims surrounded the pair of you, his grip tightening around your shoulders as they attempted to prise you both apart. You'd fought and resisted, always a fighting spirit, but the descending forces were too strong- even for him to combat.

He didnt even know if you could be cured, despite his insistance on eternally promising to try. Just the thought of that caused his Gallifreyan blood to boil.

The Master soon found his way to each door, silently peeking inside every residence to inspect the residents under each dome. Each door returned nothing but measly, random humans, the Masters patience running thinner by the second. Of course he'd keep searching for you, refusing to relent in any regard, but his decorum for the orchestrator of this scheme and his willingness to hunt silently were both plummeting to nothing. He had to find you. Fast.

He continued to hunt, each door still exposing the frozen faces of strangers. He resented the way his heart's would jolt at every curtain covered door, the anticipation crippling him as he scowered the street for your presence. You had to be there, he refused to entertain the thought of finding you thrown into the canal like the other common humans entangled in this mess. Not even he knew the reign of terror he'd bestow upon the universe if they'd not only murdered you for vanity, but desecrated your body in your death.

"C'mon love... Let me find you." He whispered to himself, before crossing the street to the next house along.

He pushed the red and white curtain aside, twisting the knob of the pristine white door with tense urgency. He forced himself into the front room, tracking fresh dirt from the trampled flowerbeds onto the cream carpetting. He let his gaze find the dome and instantly froze in his tracks, brown eyes widening and jaw falling slack in horror, brows knitting together in a hybrid of fury and fear.

It wasnt a stranger sat under the dome, not this time. This one was far more precious to him than any other silly little trapped human. This one was the one he'd been hunting for.

This one was you.

"Y/N!" The Master rushed towards the glass, palms frantically pressing against the barrier between you. They'd posed you on a chair, poised and propper, a man at your side with a hand on your shoulder. Your face had been pushed into a gentle smile, but your eyes were glazed and lifeless. You looked like a perfect doll under there, and the Master was determined to get you out.

He assessed the situation- there was airflow into the dome, the process putting your body in a stasis, albeit in a petrified, frozen form. But it still required a level of oxygen, meaning the living component required propper lung function and supported circulation. You were most definitely alive in there , which pleased him despite the circumstance.

His fists pounded hard against the glass, teeth gritting together in rage, a snarl ripping from his lips. The glass was thick and reinforced, most likely to contain the concentraited air, so he needed something to function as a battering ram. Nothing too big that could cause you harm, but something strong enough to shatter the glass. He furiously scratched his beard in thought, tugging a hand through his hair before spotting his perfect weapon- an innocently placed chair.

The Master swiftly grabbed hold of the chair, raising it above his head with a yell. The object came crashing down upon the glass, sending the dome shattering into a cascade of falling shards. The chair was quickly thrown and discarded, the Master having far more important things to worry about.

"Y/N... my sweet, beautiful Y/N, what did they do to you?"

The Master crouched to your level, palm reaching for your cheek as the other took hold of your frozen hands. His thumb caressed over your cheekbone, the skin hard and hollow as he gently drumed his fingers on the bone. You were ice cold but still moveable, the Master's fear of shattering you like the dome disappating out of his mind.

"They made a big mistake, a big, big mistake taking you like this." He whispered, raising your hands to his lips and gently pecking the back of them. He moved your hand to hold his own cheek, the familiar warmth of your touch gone from your skin. You had no pulse either, a notion which made the timelords stomach drop.

His eyes suddenly fell on the hand atop your shoulder, glare narrowing as he followed the body to reach the face of the man they'd posed alongside you. He sneered at the figure, brandishing his TCE and aiming it at your partner. The man instantly shrunk with a digital 'zip', falling into one of the many piles of glass that littered the floor. The Master smirked smugly, cocking an eyebrow in victory.

"Sorry Adam, shes taken." He jibed, before turning his attention back to you.

A hand carefully brushed away the shards of glass that had fallen on you during impact, the Master's touch gentle against your unmoving form. He had to get you out of there before the pilgrims came to check on the commotion he'd obviously caused. There was no way nobody heard the sound of the dome smashing, but he didn't wish to wait and find out.

"C'mon love, lets get you out of here."

Carefully, he stole a blanket from the green armchair sat in the corner, draping the material around your shoulders before gathering you in his arms. He refused to let you freeze while he carried you towards the factory, who knew what your new condition would leave you susceptible to. Your head fell to his chest as he held you like his bride, the Master wincing at your eerie, permanent smile.

"Hold on doll, i'll have you back in no time."

He placed a delicate kiss to your temple, a silent promise that everything would be alright. A sigh escaped his lips before he clutched you tight towards his chest, carrying you out through the front door and towards the looming factory above.

"Just hold on for me Y/N, I promise."

There was a back road connecting Sweetville to the factory- he couldnt risk any of the pilgrims catching sight of you both as he made his way through, so the front gate was a no go. He frowned as he slipped through off the beaten track, your body still clutched tight against his chest as he made his way through the midnight streets.

Bypassing them was easy. They patrolled in routines, groups of three's working their way through the factory floor, a small gap between them, perfect for the Master to slip through. He traversed through corridor after corridor, sticking to the dark corners of the warehouse as he found his way back to the chambers- all the while keeping tight purchase on your form.

Soon making his way towards the chamber corridor, the Master pulled the TCE from his pocket. He'd come too far now to succumb to an ambush. He swiftly made his way towards the revivication chamber, unlocking the door with the device in his hand and yanking open the heavy shell. Carefully, the Master stood you inside the human shaped box, pulling the blanket from your shoulders and placing a small kiss atop your forehead.

"Good luck" he whispered, before sealing the door to the chamber and activating the device, blanket disreguarded and pooling on the floor.

The machine gave out a low groan, the mechanical ticking of the interior rotar echoing quietly through the hall. He could just about see the top of your head through the grated window, smoke eminating from the inside and drifting into the atmosphere. The timelord stood guard, a silent prayer on his lips, palm pressed flat against the exterior metal.

The chamber was warm, heat radiating off the body of the machinery, a hellish red glow emerging from inside. It was no doubt doing the same thing it did to him, reintroducing heat to the body and restarting all regular interior function. The preservation process had gone wrong for him, no doubt due to his irregular (and in his opinion superior) timelord biology. The Masters condition been easy to fix- a partial motory shutdown acompanied by a telltale vivid red complexion, a sign the preserving process had failed. But you were a full blown case of successful preservation. Would you even be able to recover?

The chamber continued to tick on, working away at the effects of the venom. The Master continued to peek inside, watching the process intently. The timelord was transfixed, all attention focused on his human. He didn't even notice the oncoming footsteps of the pilgrims approaching the corridor, until one of them dared to step forwards and adress him.

"You will come with us immediately."

The Master turned towards the man with a furious glare, a smirk playing on his lips and an eyebrow raised in question. There was around 7 of them, all men poised with wooden bats and menacing expressions- but none of them were a match for the Masters. He'd had thousands of years to perfect his spinechilling glare, after all.

"If you're thinking about stopping me, i suggest you rethink your next actions very, very carefully."

The pilgrims watched the Master intently. They'd recognised him from the day you and he had arrived at Sweetville. The Master leered at the closest pilgrim with a twisted smile, hand still pressed against the ticking metal.

"Sure, you pulled your little preserving stunt on me, and credit where it's due- its a cute plan, it really is."

The Master mockingly laughed gently, a confused expression creeping across the face of the pilgrim leader. The timelord toyed with the TCE in his hands, tone laced with an absolute dark malice.

"But you made a one crucial mistake, one very, very crucial mistake. You were so close, so very close to getting it all right. Who wants to guess?"

The pilgrims stood in comanding silence, the Master's judgemental gaze panning over their solemn faces.

"Nobody? Well then, guess i'll have to spell it out for you all."

The leading pilgrim sighed in frustration, the Masters stoic glower landing on his expression. He took a step forward, squaring off his shoulders like a wild animal, smile dropping from his features as his teeth clenched in a snarl.

"Your mistake, boys... was thinking you could also do it to her. You took her from me and hurt her, and god knows thats enough to doom every single one of you."

A pilgrim within the cluster rolled his eyes, raising his bat and lurching forward to swing at the Masters head. The timelord growled in annoyance, presenting the TCE with a flourish and sending the man crashing to the floor as a shrunken minifigure, instantly trodden under his foot. Another followed suit, the Master's elbow colliding with his jaw and fist landing square across his face. The pilgrim screamed in pain, soon joining his associate as a shrunken minifigure on the floor- the timelords hair flying wild as he quickly span on his heels and pinned the leader against the second revivication chamber, all in one swift swing. His hand clasped tight around the mans throat, gritted teeth practically spitting with rage as the pilgrims bat dropped to the floor from shock.

"So, two questions for you. Do you really want to attempt to take her from me again?"

The Master raised the TCE to the pilgrims face, a viscious fire lit behind his eyes, harsh voice barely over a whisper beside the pilgrims pitiful whimper.

"And are you really stupid enough to try?"

The pilgrim shook his head with a groan, hands still scrabbling against the Master's monsterously strong grip. The Master nodded in agreement, relenquishing his grip on the pilgrims throat and gesturing with his head for him to leave with an almost innocent expression. The pilgrim gasped for air, windpipe almost crushed under the timelords inhuman strength, eyes flitting towards the exit in a sudden panic. He began to bolt for the following hall, the other pilgrims backing away in fear.

The Master calmly raised the TCE, a concentrated blast landing straight against the mans back. The pilgrim shrunk with a shrill scream, a wave of horror surging across the four remaining men. Terrified feet scrambled against the hard stone floor, leaving the Master stood alone within the empty corridor, the sound of wooden bats being dropped against the flooring ricocheting through the hallway.

The Master released an almighty huff, tension falling from his shoulders, TCE returning to his inside pocket. He suddenly turned his attention back to your chamber, and every remaining ounce of fury melted from his face.

"I'm sure you would've enjoyed that, love. You're always partial to a good fight, arent you?"

The Master smiled to himself, peeking into the glowing red of the chamber between the pannels of horizontal grating. He quickly removed the TCE and gave a quick scan of the metal machine, a satisfied expression sinking onto his features. You were just about done, and it looked like the process had worked a treat. He'd have you back in no time.

The Master heaved open the door with a low grunt, the bellowing smoke dissapating out into the atmosphere. There you stood among the internal pipes and valves, eyes fluttered shut, swaying gently from side to side. All sense of stillness had escaped from your form, your eyes twitching and nose scrunching as you carefully began to come to. The Master gently moved a stray hair from your face, fingers trailing across your now warm skin as you subconciously nestled your cheek against his palm.

You were slowly starting to wake, your fingers subtly twitching as your once still lips slowly parted. Your balance hadn't yet returned though, your limbs suddenly falling weak. You began to fall against the timelords chest, the Master instantly curling an arm around your waist to keep you upright, your hands instinctively flying to his shoulders. The other hand remained on your cheek, thumb caressing the apples of your cheek as your eyes finally fluttered open.

The world was hazy, images fuzzy and your vision lacking any sharpness. Your eyes focused on the figure before you, the soft mound of shapes in front of your eyes carefully creeping towards clarity. You groaned softly, squinting as you made out the features in your eyeline. Fluffy hair, a scruffy beard, and brown eyes that looked down upon you with such a caring, fond warmth it made your heart begin to race.

"There she is, there's my Y/N"

Your ears practically perked up at the familiar voice, your mind slowly working through the sluggish lull it was trapped in. The puzzle pieces began to ease together in your mind, the soft palm against your cheek bringing you such comfort as you processed your surroundings. There was only one person you knew who would even get chance to hold you like this, let alone desire to.

A warm smile spread across your face, recognition gleaming in your eyes as you scratched your nails against the underside of his jaw. The figure before you hummed in appreciation, your finger raising up to gently boop him on the nose.

"Master"

Your voice was amost a dreamy sigh, gaze brimming with affection as you nestled further into his arms. The timelord above you hummed out a laugh, a blush spreading rapidly across your cheeks. The arm around your waist tightened, your hold on the masters shoulders shifting from desperate grappling to tender affection. You had no clue how long it had been: days, weeks, months - but you felt like you'd missed his arms, the familar comfort an utter blessing.

"You came back for me" you murmured, placing a tender kiss against his wrist. The Master raised his eyebrows, allowing his face to be burried in your hair as he pulled you tighter to his chest. You nestled your nose against the crook of his neck, your arms winding around his torso.

"Hey, of course I came back for you, love. I'd always come back for you."

His hands gingerly rubbed up and down your spine, the familiar scent of his collar drifting up your nostrils as you gave yourself to his embrace. The hug was comforting, caring, something you'd been craving ever since you stepped foot into Sweetville. Gone was the terror of the unknown, the looming peral that stood behind the factory doors. You'd found your way back to Master's arms, and everything felt right again.

Questions wracked themselves through your brain, your mind having finally caught up with your racing heart. You pulled yourself to face him, hand making its way to hold the side of his neck.

"What happened to me? What happened to you? What's our next move? Where's Mrs gillyflower? How are we gonna stop her? What-

Why are you looking at me like that?"

Your ramblings were cut off by the masters fond expression, face shapen into a loving smile and eyes gazing down at you with an unspoken adoration. He brushed the hair from your face once more, fingers caressing down your jawline before gently landing under your chin.

"Just thinking... Did I tell you how much I missed you?" The timelord mused, stupid grin still perched atop his lips. You rolled your eyes and smirked, gripping onto his jacket collar and curling your fingers under his lapels.

"No, but you can show me." You returned, before pulling his collar towards your chest and crashing your lips against his.

The Master fell deep into the kiss, hands grasping hold of your waist as he tilted his head, nose brushing against yours as he slotted himself further against your face. You let out a gentle moan, his lips prising away your dominance as your eyes closed in bliss. His mouth was warm and inviting, lips soft against your own as they carefully guided your movements, creating a symphony of coordination between both of your mouthes.

He tasted hot and desperate, teeth almost clashing as he hungrilly delved deeper. His fingers dug into your side as you moaned once again, the air being snatched away from your lungs as you succumbed to his every movement. He could sense you were running out of momentum, his forehead pressed against your own as he carefully prised himself away, your lips shining a glossy red as you gasped out for air.

"Now that...that was a good show."

The Master looked awfully proud of himself, your eyes meeting his own, chest rising and falling in a gentle pant. He could've kept going, his respiratory bypass an absolute boon when it came to intimacy. You however, being human, needed a break now and then. Not that the Master would have you any other way.

"Right then, my dear Y/N. It seems, as the locals would say, 'there's trouble at mill'."

You couldn't hold back your laughter, the Yorkshire lilt he added to his voice simultaniously perfect and horrendous. You couldnt help but think it was a minor jab at a familiar blonde timelady, but her and her vocal habits were the last things you were concerned about right now.

"And, now that you're finally back in one very beautiful piece, we need to solve this little mystery of ours."

You giggled lightly, a confident smile encasing your reddened lips, a proud blush spreading across your cheeks. The Masters eyes were alit with something fabulously excitable, lips curled into an eager grin. He was absolutely raring to go, shoulders straightening proudly.

"Whats your plan, Master?" You asked, curiosity coursing through your veins. The Master flashed a dazzling grin, obviously happy you'd asked.

"I think, love, its about time we finally had a talk with our dear old friend Mr Sweet."

The Master extended his hand towards you, your own hand slipping in perfectly against his palm. He squeezed your hand gently, sending you a wink that almost made your knees buckle. The effect he had on you would never stop being practically magical.

You squoze back, beaming up at the renegade timelord with determination before the pair of you ran towards the large crimson door of the factory, ready to face whatever horror's lay in store- together.

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

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Upper Wilds

Dan Friel has been a mainstay of Brooklyn noise rock since the aughts, first with the obliteratingly loud (but kinda hooky) Parts & Labor, then with a series of ebullient solo albums and now, three records in, with Upper Wilds. Reviewing Venus, his latest, Jennifer Kelly noted with approval that it was, “a continuous barrage of bass and drums, knocking his inimitable fuzz-crusted hooks sideways and to pieces and rampaging on regardless.” Here, Friel lists some of his favorite live performances, and we agree 100% about the Coachwhips.

Friel notes that “It's been a good year for reflecting on the importance of live performance. Here is a wildly subjective list of good shows I ended up at. The clips aren't necessarily from the sets I saw, but I tried to be somewhat era-appropriate.

Suicidal Tendencies (1992)

My first show. I was 16, and really liked “How Can I Laugh Tomorrow If I Can't Even Smile Today.” Not something I still listen to a ton, but thrash-era ST is just a fascinating combination of anger/positivity, chops, and fashion choices. I got a ride to the show in Worcester, MA with older kids who had to shovel beer cans out of the backseat into the Stop & Shop recycling center for change to put in the gas tank. Suicidal were just past their peak, but still had some of the best players in thrash (Rocky George forever) and blew Megadeth off the stage (near as I can remember).

Rorschach (1993)

My first punk show, in a former porno theater, with Universal Order of Armageddon. I had never seen anyone move around that much while playing music and thought their cover of King Crimson's “21st Century Schizoid Man” was an original for long enough that hardcore and prog are still hopelessly intertwined in my head.

Ornette Coleman and Prime Time (1994)

My first big jazz show. Ornette took some extremely punk violin solos, the set was short and chaotic, and the whole thing was so fluid and conversational it felt like watching a group of people form a river.

Black Star (1999)

My first night living in NYC. I had just started working at the Knitting Factory, and Black Star played for like 2+ hours with The Roots backing them up. A long way into the set, Questlove took one reality-shredding 8-bar drum solo, and then quietly went back to holding it down for the rest of the night.

Sainkho Namtchylak (2000)

Sainkho Namtchylak is an experimental vocalist from Tuva. I went into this show blind, and still think frequently about the range of sounds she was able to make, and the point where she seemed to visibly realize she didn’t need the microphone to fill the 250-capacity room with those sounds.

Yeah Yeah Yeahs (2001)

The first YYYs show I saw was also at the first real show I played in Brooklyn. Karen O performed wearing a plastic bag for a shirt and screamed real good on “Art Star,” and their set was the first time I felt like I was watching a band become famous in real time.

Friends Forever (2003)

Friends Forever was a band from Denver that played in their van instead of venues. They were goofy and loud and highly representative of the moment. I saw them a few times, including a Halloween-ish show outside Brian Chippendale’s space in Providence, which included a lot of flying pumpkins and punks jumping through a small fire.

Coachwhips (2004)

John Dwyer is never not entertaining, but there was this one small show in a junkyard outside of Austin where he just kept picking up lit fireworks and throwing them back at the audience, and I really wish there was footage somewhere. This show was good too.

Justice Yeldham (2006)

Justice Yeldham (aka Lucas Abela) has been traveling the world biting off pieces of amplified broken glass for a while now. I first saw him at Monkey Mania 2, Friends Forever’s space in Denver. Beyond the obvious madness of performing with broken glass, he’s an extremely dynamic musician with crazy range on his instrument, and it always rules.

Pet Shop Boys (2010)

A wise British friend dragged me to this at a festival I played, and I'm still confused as to how they pulled off this billion-dollar Broadway-esque trick of projecting onto a wall of bricks, having the wall collapse, having dancers pop out of the bricks, and then having the bricks reform the wall. It's true that I don't go to a lot of big-budget stage productions, but I swear it was nuts. Having 10,000 people sing along to the chorus didn't hurt either.