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amarantine-amirite · 2 years

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In the Light of the Fact

When I tell this story, people assume that I'm bad at sports. I'm not "bad at sports" in the conventional sense. The world has just changed, and I didn't.

Since the financial crisis, it's become standard practice for kid's sports programs to tell the parents, "Your son/daughter would be the next big sports star if they did this elite training thing" even when that's not the case. the sports program that's the side hustle no longer exists. The only way they can stay in business is by offering elite high-level training and coaching.

It's not like you're getting one on one coaching, high-level staff, or top-notch facilities. Nobody wants to pay enough staff for one-on-one attention, so they pile people into these groups. It's hard to get with the program when you're new to something if you're in a big group. They care about providing a low-cost service at a premium and hope that you don't notice they're ripping you off. It's particularly bad with horseback riding.

I'm not bad at sports, I just can't be played for a sucker. The only problem is everyone wants people who can be played for suckers. Oak Creek seemed like the only place that didn't do this.

Even so, it wasn't like what I was used to. I drive the horse with my legs and body (and only a little bit of hands). I generate my posting by pivoting in the knees and I roll the shoulders back to absorb the motion. I get into a genuine half seat and lean forward during two-point while remaining seated during the canter. I also use my crop on the rear. These guys expected me to steer with my hands and legs. They also wanted me to maintain a straight up and down motion while posting, with my elbows rigidly fixed to my body as well as standing in the stirrups during canter and two-point. They also told me to use my crop on the shoulder.

I have a weird feeling that I know where it came from. Right before we moved, I went to a riding camp somewhere called Roxham Road Stables. I distinctly remember the intake form saying "riders must be comfortable trotting and cantering on their own."

The program lasted for two weeks, and I never did get to canter. No, seriously. Depending on what horse they put me on, they wouldn't even let me trot without a lead line! It felt frustrating and ridiculous.

I still found it frustrating and ridiculous even after I understood where it came from. The horses of Roxham Road only had their turnout in that tiny little arena. Since they never went outside, they spooked at everything from the cat entering the arena to people opening the door. The looming threat of spooking made it next to impossible to stop being on guard. Being scared all the time does nothing to help you ride. Horses smell fear. They get afraid because you're afraid. They don't understand you're afraid of them.

The looming threat of a spooking horse changed the way instructors taught. They had a rule that riders under 10 years of age must work on a lead line unless they've been riding on the lead line for two years. Because of that, nobody learned to canter until they either came of age or rode there long enough. It's impossible to keep up with a cantering horse on a lead line. The riders never learn to sit the canter until they get off the lead line. Even then, the looming threat of a spooky horse gets in the way.

Not that long ago, I Googled Roxham Road Stables to see if anyone else had similar complaints, and to my surprise, I found no trace of them anywhere on the Internet. Their website has been taken offline, and their social media feeds only seem to mention horses winning multiple in-hand classes. I think they got rid of the lesson program and focus solely on breeding now.

Thanks to spending far too long on the lead line, the kids don't know how to steer. They start yanking on the rein every stride like a skier to get the horse to turn. They don't know how to get the horse to move, which leads to a lot of aggressive pony kicking. They end up going to shows doing stuff that they tell you not to do.

One day, we had a training session in a nearby park. Some car company filmed a commercial in the arena and the stunt driver knocked out a load-bearing wall. We couldn't use the teaching arena due to new riders doing assessments. The outdoor arena had been winterized.

The evening was cloudy. Everything still had a bit of moisture from the rain during the day. A lot of my peers found it unnerving, but I didn't. I don't blame them. Not only was the weather kind of witchy, but riding at night just feels strange in general. Nighttime means the barn belongs to the horses and visiting hours are up.

It was while tacking up in a moving horse trailer on our way to the park that my suspicions that the kids of Roxham Road wound up at Oak Creek were confirmed. I say this because I ran into Skye Chenery.

"Nancy, is that you?" Skye asked as I tried to pick out Misty's hooves before the trailer started moving.

"Hey there, Skye! I haven't seen you since Roxham Road!"

I know, right?" she giggled, "It's been forever!"

"Sure has!"

Skye put her hands on her hips so she watched me brush my weird-looking but endearing four-legged bestie. "And you're still putting the bridle on last?"

I felt my stomach drop a bit when she said that. Some people who feel they have been wronged often choose to sit on that information until they're ready to do something about it. It's slowly started to occur to me that Skye Chenery may be one of them.

What do I think I've gotten away with? Well, here's how I'm used to tacking up. First, I pick out the horse's feet and give them a brush. Then I put the saddle on. Finally, I put the reins over the horse's head and put the bridle on.

This wouldn't be a problem, but the people at Roxham expected us to put the bridle on first and hold the reins like a lead rope and put the bridle on like a halter. Next, we brush the horse and do the feet, and the saddle goes on last. All while holding the reins like a lead rope.

I struggled to tack up that way. I can kind of do the saddle one-handed, but I found it hard to pick out their back feet because I can't reach them if I hold the reins like a lead rope. Mind you, one thing I did learn from all that was how to secure the hoof on your thighs like a farrier.

During the first week, I did my normal tack-up routine in the stall, but we got a different coach during the second week, and she didn't let anyone tack up in the stall. The barn had cross ties, but we couldn't use them because it's a "fire hazard", and I never got an explanation as to why we weren't to tack up in the stall. "Yeah," I replied, "I know for a fact that I can't do it any other way."

Skye cocked her head and closed her eyes halfway. "As you know, lesson horses are great at knowing who they can take advantage of. What if the horse walks off and causes a kerfuffle?" She spoke to me like I didn't know what I was talking about.

"That doesn't explain why the idiots at Roxham wouldn't let us tack up in the stall" I shrugged. I picked up my saddle.

"Tacking up in the stall is unsafe."

"Yes, but why? Why the hell are we only allowed to hold the horse with the reins while doing everything else? What's the advantage?"

Skye rolled her eyes at me. "We're back on this ride again, aren't we?"

I dropped Misty's girth and turned around. "Again?"

Skye pulled out her phone and showed pictures of me tacking up the "wrong way" in the stall. "In my defence, Tacking up the way they wanted us to sounds like a disaster waiting to happen," I said, hoping she would listen to reason. "Even the best rider in the world would struggle to coordinate holding a horse by the reins and also picking up their feet, brushing them and saddling them all while still holding the horse." I could have on top of everything I just said, you'd run the risk of breaking the reins or accidentally knocking the horse's mouth by the bit, but I felt fairly certain that I had made my point.

Skye didn't listen to reason. "But wait, there's more," she said. She pulled up a video of me arguing with the coach that she had taken. I had the proverbial paddle ball eyes as I watched myself say "It doesn't make sense, Sasha! The fire hazard thing only holds water if the crossties are in the aisles. The cross ties are in a booth!"

It frustrated me to relive the conversation. It frustrated me to watch myself tell Sasha that I struggle to tack the horse up like this and need to put the bridle on last, only to have her blow me off as just "your Aspie motor issues acting up again" and "you don't like change."

"Forget it, this conversation is over," I said as I got my helmet on and the reins over Misty's head.

"Not if I keep talking."

The argument was still going strong even after we got off the trailer. "You're not listening!" I shouted, "You're far better off tacking up in the stall if you can't tie the horse up."

"But it isn't safe," Skye repeated

"Why isn't it safe?"

"It just isn't!"

We had a substitute coach, Kendra. I recognized her from Roxham Road. She was an instructor, and I'm pretty sure she was also the counsellor for camp the year I was there. She heard us arguing. "What's going on?"

Skye pointed at me and said, "I've got a video of Nancy tacking up the horse the wrong way."

I wasn't at all surprised that she tried to rat me out. Skye knows that she, and the bulk of the show team, never learned to stop or turn without whaling on the horse's mouth. Rather than see me as her inspiration to improve her riding, she instead chose to crap on me. It also doesn't help that I am at least thirty pounds heavier than the other girls.

We got on. The lesson could finally begin. "Good evening, everybody, my name is Kendra," she began, "for today, I've set up a jumper course big enough for all of us to do together. It's better for the horses because jumping in groups is more natural."

She traced out the following path. We would start with the five jumps on the soccer field. Next, we would head down the bike path to the circle in the field to the left of the bike path, then up the hill to the ten bounces to the right of the bike path. After that, we'd turn around at the bridge and come back over the two oxers on the opposite side of the bike path as the field. Finally, we'd go over the heart-shaped jump by the aviary.

The flat work portion of our session we're off without a hitch. Something ominous happened when it was time to complete the jumper course. "I'm warning you right now, that there's a catch: this is the elimination round." Kendra said, "If any of you fall off or get lost, you're off the team." After she said this, I saw her give Skye something that looked like a remote.

Not falling off or getting lost was harder than it looked. I went over the first vertical and I knocked it down. It felt like the pole moved as I went over it. The next two jumps on the soccer field had the same problem. Both of them moved underneath me. As I went over the fourth jump, it dawned on me that all the jumps had an adjustable height feature, and they'd be jacked up to impossible proportions as I passed.

The last jump on the soccer field went up before I got there. Only the top rail could be adjusted to make the jump higher, so it left a gap. I aimed for the gap and did the laminar flow thing. It didn't take me long to figure out that I needed to get ahead of Skye because she had the remote for the jumps.

It never occurred to me until I got to the bike path that I had been set up to fail. Skye had seen me get lost on courses because I misinterpreted spoken directions. Everybody knew I was out of practice with jumping because I hadn't had a consistent mount up until this point, and that I had trouble with vague last-minute instructions. She and Kendra engineered this situation so I would screw up.

It didn't work. Quite the opposite. I was the only person who didn't get lost on the course. Another side effect of doing two years on the lead line was that nobody knew how to drive. At no point did I see anybody else instinctively watching for traffic.

Even though I've been set up to fail, I handled it better than I thought. Jacking up the jumps super high caused a lot of horses to refuse (and I don't blame them - that's not fair to expect a horse to jump over moving obstacles). About half of us came off. People squealed. That made horses spook. Nobody else knew how to defuse a spooky horse out in the open; they only knew how to ride a horse into the wall of the arena. Lots of people ran into each other because of this.

I felt like I could coast. I was wrong. Coach Kendra snuck up behind Misty with an air horn. She spooked.

One upside to the learning environment at Roxham Road was that I learned very quickly how to defuse a spooky horse. If you're outside, you can either turn the horse around in a shrinking circle or have it go up or down a hill. That way, it will think about where to put its feet.

Since we didn't have enough room to turn around for a circle, I took Misty down the hill. She seemed to calm down when we were heading down the hill, but once we hit level ground, she went back to running like a maniac. Long story short, we ended up on the road.

I tried to look for a place to turn Misty around so we could head back to the park. The best we could do was the mall parking lot. I pulled out my phone and left a message on Coach Sharma's machine. "Hey, Sharma, it's Nancy. Misty spooked and ran away. Don't worry, I stayed on. Anyway, I'm in the parking lot of Holt Renfrew. Do you need me to pick up anything before I head back to the park?"

The sun had gone all the way down by the time I made it back to the park. Sky and Coach Kendra went out of their way to make me look as stupid as possible, and yet it backfired. We all ended up on the road at some point. On the journey back, I noticed that two people wound up going into people's yards, and I think I saw Skye fall off and land in somebody's hot tub. I was the only one that made it back to the park on horseback. Everybody else came back on foot.

This is what you get for setting someone up to fail. It didn't make you perform any better, and now, everyone knows you're a gigantic asshole.

@daily-prompts

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #short fiction #short story #horsblr #horse

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sidehugsnsideblogs · 3 years

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FCSU #38 The Breaking Point

With the majority of the FCSU members moved to the New Place or houses of hiding, a wave of fear and paranoia swept through the Prospect and the surrounding lands.

By this point Teresa just felt tired. Her church was changing in ways she hated but felt powerless to change. The families left behind in the Prospect and Badlands were obsessed with ascending to the New Place and were constantly on the lookout for some kind of infraction so they could tattle back to the Prophet and win favor for themselves. There was no sense of community anymore, only paranoia. With her delivery date looming she kept working fulltime hours just to make sure the vulnerable in the community were taken care of. Many were seniors left behind by their families. It was heartbreaking to see. Teresa was burning herself out trying to make sure everyone was taken care of.

Likewise, Isaac poured his heart and soul into teaching the remaining children in the Prospect school. He was constantly being sent stranger and stranger curriculums from the Priesthood higherups. Science had been all but abandoned, Math only went so far so the children could understand a recipe or measure construction materials. With such a focus on building Isaac wondered what would happen to all the men once construction finally stopped.

Royce Culton looked to remove all obstacles between his followers and their salvation. His latest fixation seemed to be pets. From deep in hiding he sent word to the flock to abandon their pets. In one week’s time any remaining pets would be rounded up and culled. Teresa and Isaac took the news especially hard. Maggie and Felix were both elder dogs and an integral part of the family.

Isaac was especially gutted. His dogs had been his companions since his bachelor days, keeping him company while he studied through college alone in an unfaithful town. He camped with them, he hiked with them, he watched them forge close bonds with his children just as he had with his own childhood pets. He couldn’t imagine that a life without his dogs.

Isaac sent a letter to his brother pleading for Maggie and Felix’s lives. He explained that the dogs were 12 and 10 and likely wouldn’t be around much longer. He asked that they be allowed to live out their natural lifespans and avoid Royce’s culling. He told Teresa not to worry about the dogs, that he’d talk to his brother and she should just focus on resting and having a healthy baby.

A few days later Teresa was overcome with labour pains, she spoke to Rachel on the phone who told her that Royce had a vision that her child would be harmed should Teresa give birth in the clinic. She should give birth in the home with only Isaac on hand for support. Teresa couldn’t believe it. Her twins were born in the clinic without complications. Why did she have to have a homebirth now? She decided several hours into her unmedicated labour that this was simply and exercise in power for Royce. Teresa finally gave birth to Hannah, a healthy 9lb baby girl.

The Prophet called them a couple weeks later to bless the child.. He seemed to be in a good mood so Isaac took the opportunity to again plead for his dogs. He was met with a long pause. Royce then addressed Teresa through the phone “You are released from your marriage, a car will arrive in 90 minutes to transport you and your children to the New Place for reassignment. Gather what you need.” Teresa and Isaac looked at each other, completely stunned. “Isaac you have lost your ranks among the Priesthood. You will remain in your home and perform acts of penance, the first of which will be to put down the dogs yourself. My men will be there in 90 minutes.” The line went dead.

Teresa stood up robotically and began gathering the children’s books and toys. Isaac broken down and cried. He felt Teresa pulling him to his feet. A steely determination in her eyes. “You can cry later. We have 90 minutes to get out of here. I need your help to pack.”

By the time the Prophet’s men arrived, house was empty. All the pictures torn off the walls. Toys, books and bedding were removed from the bedrooms although larger furniture remained. The dogs and all their clutter were gone, there was no sign that they had lived there at all. The fridge and pantry had been emptied but the stove was still warm.

#fundie sims #fundiesims #fcsu #sims 4 story

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musinglymuse · 4 years

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This recommendation list focuses on the main pairing, the hottest couple in Check Please: Eric “Bitty” Bittle and Jack Zimmerman or more affectionately known as Zimbits. They’ve come a long way since the beginning of Check Please!

I’ve compiled some of what I consider excellent fanfics that feature this couple although it does not contain all of my recommendations. They are in no particular order. I plan on creating more recommendation lists down the line, especially for other pairings in this fandom.

As a reminder, please make sure to check the tags and any warnings before reading. Take care of yourself!

Hold It All At Bay by psocoptera Psychic Bond AU // ~50k // R

The theory of extrapolative synchronization of the mirror neurons was debunked back when he was still in his teens, so Jack is reluctant to mention that he can smell Bitty's pies baking from across campus.

Easy P-Z by ebjameston HGTV AU // ~21k // PG-13

Jack and Kent are the ridiculously handsome house-renovating married retired hockey players that’ve been making HGTV an absolutely stupid amount of money with their new show.

And Eric Bittle just got hired to be their show’s caterer.

Eric Bittle, NBC 10 by foryouandbits Journalist AU // ~82k // NC-17

In 2009, Jack Zimmermann was drafted 2nd overall to the Providence Falconers. After a tumultuous first season in the minors, Jack returns to the NHL and is named captain within a year. Known to the media as the "hockey robot," no one seems to be able to break through the polite barrier that Jack has built — no one until Eric Bittle, newest intern at NBC 10. Bitty, interning as a requirement for his journalism degree at nearby Samwell University, forms an instant connection with Jack. Throughout the rest of the season, and the rest of Bitty's junior year at Samwell, the two grow closer while learning how to both trust each other and succeed in their respective careers.

What I want to feel, I want to feel it now by RabbitRunnah Bakery AU // ~28k // PG-13

Eric Bittle knows the way his life is supposed to go: According to an old family curse, the love of his life will take one bite of his famous apple pie and fall madly in love with him. And they'll live happily ever after.

There's only one problem: Jack Zimmermann doesn't like pie.

Back to You by PorcupineGirl Canon Divergence // ~15k // PG-13

When Jack kissed him at graduation over a year and a half ago, Eric had been too shocked to really think about what it might mean, long-term. They'd talked constantly over the next six weeks, enough for him to feel confident that Jack felt the same way he did, and to start to imagine what those far-off futures might look like together.

And then Jack came to Madison for the Fourth of July, and Eric made the stupidest mistake of his life: He let himself and Jack talk themselves out of it.

he will take you by hockeydyke Camp Counselor AU // ~55k // PG-13

Jack Zimmermann has been a part of Camp Samwell for the majority of his life-- first as a camper when his parents spent summers in nearby at a lake house in scenic upstate New York, then as a counselor, and now as the program director of the entire camp. The problem now is that the camp is attracting bad luck left and right, and they’re losing campers and staff at an alarming rate. Enter Eric Bittle, Jack’s new co-director. He’s young, enthusiastic, and maybe he’ll have what it takes to get the situation turned around.

Unfortunately, something powerful is in control of Camp Samwell, and it wants Bitty to get out.

<lj-cut text="you see who I am and what I did"> by tomato_greens Rock Band AU // ~11k // PG-13

Rolling Stone

No Jack Zimmermann Is An Island by Jennifer S. Harada

After avoiding me for a week, Jack Zimmermann calls to ask me to meet him at a bakery. Or maybe a diner; he’s not sure what to call it. A brunch place, although they make great pies, too.

“Sure,” I say, “whatever you want, Mr. Zimmermann.”

“Jack,” says Zimmermann. His voice is higher than I expect it to be, and his Québécois accent more pronounced. “I’ll see you there.”

someone to count on (and other cheesy idioms about finding your soulmate) by heyfightme & omgpieplease Soulmate AU // ~9k // PG-13

Eric’s counter reads 1. That’s all. Just 1. He’s eighteen years old, has not left the state of Georgia in his entire life, and his counter reads 1.

He has spent many mindless afternoons and worn out many pens in tracing it over into a 0. If the counter did read 0, the morning wouldn’t be looming like the black rainclouds that Mama used to call “omens.”

Eric is leaving for college in the morning. When he passes the state line from Georgia to North Carolina in the passenger seat of his Mama’s sedan, he’ll also be passing the last chance he has for the counter to make it to 2.

Calendar Boy by darter_blue Canon Divergence // ~15k // R

It was supposed to be totally innocent. A friend of Lardo’s was putting together a little project, compiling a calendar of some of the openly gay athletes on campus, fundraising for the LGBTQ+ community outreach programs at Samwell.

Bitty hadn't really even been reluctant. Excited about the prospect of a fun photo shoot and a chance to dress up a bit, do something glamorous.

And he thinks it's a great photo (if not a bit more revealing than what he was expecting…). And when the calendar comes out it’s nerve racking but exciting. Until one by one the team finds a copy (Jack may be hiding one under his mattress), and then it's pandemonium.

is it too late now to say sorry by magneticwave AU // ~5K // PG-13

I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS, Eric types furiously into Twitter. THIS IS LIKE RENAMING LAKE WOEBEGONE “LAKE SCOTT WALKER.” // Or, the only person in the entirety of Canada who is upset about Jack Zimmermann’s first Stanley Cup is Eric Bittle, and by God is every single one of Eric’s 160,000 Twitter followers going to hear about it.

I Can Feel the Storm Inside You by Effyeahzimbits AU // ~15k // NC-17

Life is going good for Eric Bittle. It's summer, he has an exciting new job with the Providence Falconers, he's in a club celebrating with his friends, and he currently has a Canadian Adonis grinding up against his ass. Life is good.

Until said Canadian Adonis flees the morning after some mind-blowing sex, leaving behind a rubbish note. Bitty tries hard to forget about him and his huge, pert ass and focus on his new job, but then Canadian Adonis and the Falc's grumpy, anti-social captain turn out to be one and the same. And Bitty really couldn't forget about that huge, pert ass.

three words that became hard to say by the_one_that_fell Canon Divergence // Series // ~35k // R

Ten years after Samwell, Eric Bittle and Jack Zimmermann find each other again.

Flight Check by edgarallanrose Flight Attendant AU // ~15k // NC-17

Flight attendant Eric “Bitty” Bittle has been working his way up at Samwell Airlines for the past four years, and his new promotion has provided him the opportunity to work with a brand-new crew. Unfortunately for Bitty, that crew includes an incredibly handsome but equally grumpy pilot, Captain Jack Zimmermann, who seems to want nothing to do with Bitty. Even worse, Jack refuses to eat any of Bitty's baked goods. Will Bitty be able to win the captain over? Or is there another reason Jack has been avoiding Bitty?

Bits of Heaven by WrathoftheStag Older / Bakery AU // ~22k // R

At age 44, NHL legend, Jack Zimmermann, knows three things for sure: retirement is boring, love is probably not in the cards for him, and his aging father makes a pretty good roommate. When the bakery "Bits of Heaven" opens up down the street, Jack finds that a happily ever after is possible—even late in the game.

A Tolerance for Pain by uniqueinalltheworld Soulmate AU // ~3k // R

It makes sense, his mother tells him when he's nine: Jack's such a physical person, of course his indicator would be his soulmate's pain. Jack doesn't have anything to say about it, really, he just scowls and winces as his soulmate falls down again. Alicia Zimmermann, whose heterochromia reversed itself upon laying eyes on Bob for the first time, because she’s more passionate about visual media, pats him on the shoulder with a completely insufficient amount of sympathy. Jack's backside is sore for months as the falls keep happening, and he can only think that somewhere, his soulmate must be learning how to skate.

#zimbits #omgcp #omgcp fic rec #jack/bitty #bitty/jack

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lost-tanuki · 3 years

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First Lines Meme (repost dont reblog)

List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Thanks for the tag @connork1000!

1) Buzzing in his head, loud, constant. Horrors Told - Outlast

2) Lucien dragged the wet rag across the window and watched the blurry shapes moving around beyond it. The Ildenmoor Tragedy - Wayfaring Curses

3) "All right, Leonida. Are you ready?" The Disaster Five - The Disaster Five

4) It was summer in Detroit. Pigments and Solvents - Detroit: Become Human

5) Gintoki hit the wall with the hammer again and again, the dry sounds of dense metal smacking against thick concrete wall loud in his ears. Kabe (Continuation) - Gintama

6) The solid thunk of a boot connecting with the bone of a jaw echoed through the room. Lucky Dog - Detroit: Become Human

7) Connor glanced at his reflection in the dirty window of the nightclub. Out of Left Field - Detroit: Become Human

8) Markus felt anxious. Not A Beta - Detroit: Become Human

9) A hush had descended upon the audience seated in the wide skating rink. Gliding On A Broken Wing - Detroit: Become Human

10) It had been a week since the man named Markus had found him. Things Don’t Work That Way - Detroit: Become Human

11) Markus leaned in the doorway with his arms crossed and gazed fondly at the younger man laid out on his belly on the floor, chest propped up on a pillow, elbows planted on either side of it as he studied the open book in front of him with intense focus. Hot Apple Cider - Detroit: Become Human

12) Connor quickly slipped the cold hard muzzle of the gun back in the waistband of his pants, his mind reeling with the shock of terror and guilt. Good morning, Lieutenant - (Vol. 1) The Defective Deviant - Detroit: Become Human

13) Hank Anderson was a solitary man. The Three Little Werewolves - Detroit: Become Human

14) Settling in Canada hadn't been that easy, Alice could tell even if Kara tried her best to be optimistic. The Big Sad Monster And The Brave Little Girl - Detroit: Become Human

15) Worn buildings loomed over lifeless streets. Stray’s Shelter - Unfair Lives

16) Isaac was running late that evening and when he finally showed up at the park where he and Chris were supposed to join up, he noticed that the rendezvous point was devoid of any tall man with silver hair. A Beast Leashed And Caged - Teen Wolf

17) Nines had been investigating a crime scene with Gavin. Just gonna break it a little - Detroit: Become Human

18) A thin man with red hair, happy green eyes and a wide grin greeted Gwen at the entrance of the camp she was going to be working at as a counselor for the forseeable future. He Smiles - Camp Camp

19) Markus, Connor, North, Josh and Simon were drifting along with the crowd that filled the fairground they'd just showed up at, trying to communicate aloud as best as they could over the sounds of laughter and screams of fear as the various rides that surrounded them swooped up and down in a concert of metallic noises and whooshes of air. Ferris wheels are romantic, right? - Detroit: Become Human

20) "Move it, loser!" yelled Sixten from the rolled down window of his car. Down the road we go - Detroit: Become Human

Whew, done!

Well, one thing I can say is that’s it’s pretty frustrating to be limited to a first line, especially for stories where my first lines are a two-beat thing where the first sentence sets up the second... Which happens a lot, apparently. I guess that’s my pattern! Short sentence starters. Also, I’ve noticed I don’t do a lot of dialogue starters nor do I often start with descriptions that don’t come from the character’s POV. I mostly begin by focusing on something in the character’s surroundings, or by referring to their sensory inputs, or by stating something that is generally true for them (their living situation/temperament...).

As for my favorite opening line, it’s gotta be Good morning, Lieutenant’s! I think it’s the one that does the best job of grabbing the reader’s attention because it’s already so fraught with tension. Then again, it is a direct continuation to a tense scene in the game, so... Can I go beyond the rule and make a podium? I’m making a podium. I also like the one for Hot Apple Cider because it’s so soft, and the one from Down the road we go because I find Sixten very funny even if he’s rude as hell.

This was an interesting little experiment! I’ll tag (if you’ll allow me to, cause I’m pretty sure half of these great writers don’t know/remember who I am, but listen, I really like what you do and I’m curious to see what your answers would be) @lokiitama, @emiliaf25, @liketolaugh-writes, @not-poignant, @taylortut, @kianraidelcam, @unholygrass, @connor-rk, @a-good-omen, @ao3gingerswag

and I also tag everyone who sees this and wants to participate~

#tag game #connork1000 #first lines meme

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katefiction · 4 years

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Second Chances - Part I

by mrandmrswales (Emily) / August 23. 2013

This is slightly different to what I normally write but I’m quite proud of it so far! There should be another part to it, as its quite a long fanfiction. Thank you to the lovely Maria for helping me with the title, I was stuck about this but I think it fits nicely. Anyway, don’t forget to give me feedback and I hope you like reading it! (This is all fiction)

The first thing that 19 year old Catherine Middleton saw when her lids fluttered open that first morning was the sight of rain pouring down outside the thin glass window. The trees swayed vulnerably under the force of the cruel wind. Kate let out an inaudible groan and squeezed her eyes shut again, imagining that the rain and wind were nothing but the soundtrack to a typical morning at home. The previous night had been a haze of plane flights and driving through rocky terrain until a cluster of cabins had loomed out of the night. Kate and about 20 others had been herded from a car and split into one of the many cabins, males one way and females the other. By that point, everyone’s eyelids had been drooping and sleep had been a welcome relief.

‘All right everyone up!’

A shrill voice echoed through the hut and several loud groans echoed across the room. Kate grinned at the sound, remembering the fuss that would occur in the mornings at boarding school. She pulled herself up off the floor, her back protesting at the night slept on the floor. Her body would have to get used to it, she had 10 weeks left of this.

Half an hour later, the women were herded out of the hut, across the wet, cold yard and into a small kitchen. A huge vat of porridge bubbled on the small cooker and roughly 10 boys sat bleary eyed at a long bench while many more were gathered in a parallel room to be briefed by the other guides. A couple of hushed whispers and giggles erupted from behind Kate and she turned back to see the source.

‘Oh my god!’

‘I can’t believe it’s really him!’

Kate rolled her eyes and turned to sweep her gaze across the bench, her eyes eventually settling on a young man with familiar eyes and a mob of blonde hair. It was no other than Prince William.

————————————————————————————————————————————–

‘Hi I’m Will.’

‘Kate. Pleased to meet you.’ William met her gaze from under his blonde mop of hair and smiled bashfully. Kate turned to the sink to hide the sudden blush creeping up her neck.

‘Shall we get started?’

‘Yep. What needs to be done?’

‘I think the dishes and then the cutlery.’ Kate said, her gaze sweeping over the pile of dirty plates beside the two tiny sinks. Outside the window, the sun swept its golden rays from over the distant hills and the sound of their friends laughing and chatting filled their ears. ‘Let’s get it done shall we?’ Kate said at the envious look on William’s face.

‘So…um, where abouts do you live?’ William asked racking his brain for conversation starters. Kate smiled.

‘I live in a village called Bucklebury in Berkshire.’ She replied softly. ‘You live in London I suppose?’

William shrugged, ‘Yeah, but I also live in Scotland I guess. I go there quite a lot.’

‘Ah nice. I love Scotland.’ Kate replied with a reassuring smile.

William grinned, happy to have a mutual interest at last. ‘Yeah. It’s always been my sanctuary because the paps can’t get to us there.’ He replied casually and Kate shot him a glance. The idea of being chased around by strange men seemed absurd, but to him it was presumably normal.

‘What’s it like being royal?’ She asked suddenly, blushing furiously at his amused look. ‘Sorry..I..that was an odd question.’ She muttered, but William shook his head, turning back to the dish he was drying.

‘It’s just something that I’ve always been aware of. Mum always kept Harry and I grounded but the idea of being King always hung over me. I’m different, but I have always resented being so. The paparazzi make it harder of course because nothing is ever private to them.’ Kate smiled sympathetically.

‘I can’t pretend to know what it feels like to have old men chasing you around but I can guess. It must be really ghastly.’

‘Yeah it’s pretty bad. It makes finding girlfriends or making friends hard because they’re never afraid to hunt them down and find every last detail about them.’ William sighed and moved onto the next plate. Kate tutted and did the same, shooting glances at his hunched frame and floppy blonde hair. The idea of having a casual conversation with the future King of England at a sink in Chile seemed almost dream-like and unimaginable, but to her surprise it was so normal. He was just like any other 19 year old boy except slightly more experienced in life’s hardships.

‘So what university are you going to go to after the summer?’ She asked flippantly. William grimaced and opened his mouth to speak.

‘Oh I’m-’

‘KATE?!!! CAN YOU COME HERE PLEASE? MARK HAS SPILT WATER ON YOUR JUMPER!’ William was interrupted and Kate groaned.

‘Excuse me.’ She said and rushed from the room, William shooting an amused glance at her as she hurried from the room.

—————————————————————————————–

It was a crisp, cool morning as Kate left the cabins to make her way down to the woods where she was to chop wood with William. Dew shone like diamonds over the springy grass and the mist hung over the trees, cloaking the area in grey. The hill was steep and wet as Kate tentatively made her way down towards where William stood, already chopping wood. He looked up as she approached

‘Hello again, you and I always seem to be together!’ He grinned ‘Come to check I’m chopping right?!’

‘Yeah, Kirsty said she didn’t trust you not to accidentally chop your arm off’ Kate replied with a chuckle. William’s face twisted into mock hurt and he handed her an axe.

The two began chopping in contented silence, the sound of birds chirping joyfully and wood splitting under the blow of metal being the only noises that filled the valley. Kate looked up through her fringe at William, admiring the concentration on his young face, every now and again reaching to sweep a lock of golden hair away from his face. He looked at her suddenly and she blushed.

‘Admiring my talent at chopping wood?!’ He teased and Kate laughed.

‘Most definitely. One might even think you did it as a professional’ William tutted but smiled all the same.

‘So tell me about yourself. Do you have any brothers or sisters?’

‘I have a younger sister and brother called Pippa and James. Pippa and I are very close because were quite close in age, whereas James is quite a bit younger than me. I love him very much though, although he does drive me mad sometimes! Although, Pippa drives me more mad! She knows how to wind me up better than anything.’

William smiled ‘Care to share how?’

‘That would be telling!’ The two’s eyes held each other’s for a moment and Kate felt a small blush creeping up her neck.

‘So.’ She said suddenly, shaking her head free from thoughts of drowning in his clear blue eyes. ‘You just have Harry? You get on well?’

‘Oh yes, Harry is one of my best friend. He, like your sister loves to wind me up though. Especially in public when I can’t do anything about it! Ever since Mum…died. We’ve been very close. I was the one that…told him.’ William’s eyes shadowed over and his face became sad, almost vulnerable. Kate said nothing, averting her eyes so as to give him a moment. She had never dreamt that she would ever hear William talking so openly to her of all people about his mother, one of the most famous women who ever roamed the earth and was so dear to him.

Before she could stop herself she blurted out ‘I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been.’

William looked at her and she saw his eyes soften slightly as they roamed over her. ‘It was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. It tore him apart, and even to this day I’m the only one who ever truly knows how badly it did. You don’t recover from something like that.’

‘No.’ Kate said softly and stepped forward so she was level to him.

‘I miss her so much’ He whispered, his eyes locking with hers.

‘Your mother would be so proud of everything you’ve done. You’ve been a fantastic brother to Harry and you’ve held yourself together. That’s more than some people could do. She replied softly.

He looked at her for a moment ‘You’re a special girl Kate.’

‘I like to think so.’ Kate replied jokingly and he grinned, the sadness broken.

‘Shall we play a game?’

‘A game?’

‘Yeah. How about 21 questions? So I can really get to know you.’

Kate laughed ‘Go on then, but I can assure you I’m a very boring person.’

‘No more boring than me. Right, first question: How old were you when you had your first kiss?’

’16.’

What’s your favourite food?

‘Aw that’s a hard one. Umm… I’m going to go with my mum’s spaghetti bolognaise.’

‘Good answer. What’s one of your most embarrassing moments?’

‘The time I accidentally flashed my ‘behind’ at my housemistress. We used to do it at the boys and she walked in one time. Oh God it was so embarrassing.’

William laughed ‘Right, question number four: What is it of me that you like the most?’

‘Your eyes.’

William raised his eyebrows ‘anything else while we’re at it?’

‘Shut up and ask me the next question!’

‘All right! Favourite sport?’

‘Hockey’

‘Favourite item of clothing?’

‘My little black dress.’

‘What do you want to be when your older?’

‘I still don’t know. Something to do with fashion I think.’

‘Favourite colour?’

‘Blue.’

‘Favourite movie?’

‘Ummm. Probably-’

‘CATHERINE?!’

Kate jumped and William turned around. Kirsty, their activities leader stood at the top of the hill. ‘YOUR NEEDED UP HERE PLEASE! IS THE WOOD ALL CHOPPED?’

‘YES! JUST COMING’ Kate shouted back and began to gather her wood together. ‘Guess we’ll have to finish this another time.’

‘Guess so. Well see you later, I’ve just got a bit to go.’

‘Okay.’ Kate smiled and tore herself away, reluctantly heading back to camp, cursing whoever it was that needed her.

——————————————————————————————-

‘Good Morning everyone, today is the day when you meet the children at the nursery for the first time! Now you all have had training the last few days so you know what you’re doing. Just have fun and be gentle with them, particularly you lot!’ Kirsty their trainer said with a laugh, pointing at the men who were listening to her with huge grins on their faces.

Kirsty continued, Kate and the others listening intently to their team leader as she ran them through the details of the school day. Kate had been looking forward to doing this rather than just doing activities at the camp as she loved children. From across the circle of people, she caught William’s eye and he grinned cheekily at her. The two had grown close as they were often thrown together in activities such as hunting, chopping wood or just washing up. She had even heard William say he preferred her company to some of the other girls who did nothing but ogle him or giggle when he spoke. All in all however, they all got on well and had become fast friends. Kate had grown close to many of the women and men, some older, some younger. William had become her closest confidant and the longer she spent in his company, the more Kate was beginning to fall for him. She had tried not to, especially as she knew he wouldn’t like her back like that. However, unfortunately when it came to love, logic never came into it. Kate stuck her tongue out at him and turned back to listening to Kirsty, trying to ignore the tingly feeling in her stomach from his smile.

Kate watched with a huge grin on her face as Will and Mark Turner careered around the patio with two 3 year old boys on their shoulders. A huge amount of noise was coming from all four and Kate and the other volunteers were all watching and laughing as the boys screeched with joy. The last two hours had been spent teaching the children to read and spell, with time imbetween for playing. The children were all very sweet and Kate had started to fall in love with several of the little girls who insisted on playing hairdressers with her long hair. Kate was about to turn back into the classroom to continue the English lesson she was teaching when William glanced up and grinned at her from underneath a lock of blonde hair. Immediately, a shiver ran down her spine and she smiled dreamily back. Beside her, her friend Ellie looked suspiciously at her. Kate caught her eye and blushed.

‘What?’

‘You’re not falling for him are you?’ She whispered back, concern mingling with amusement.

‘What? No of course not. He’s like my best friend!’

‘Yeah, but that look you just gave him was hardly platonic.’

‘Oh come on Ellie, he’s good looking but I don’t like him like that.’

‘Me thinks the lady doth protest too much’

Kate tutted and turned away, not wanting Ellie to figure out the truth from the blush on her cheeks. She knew it was ridiculous and she would get over him but in all honesty, she knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. She just hoped he would realise or even return her feelings.

‘Perhaps tonight at the salsa dancing he will whisk you onto the dance floor and kiss you passionately!’ Ellie whispered again. Kate snorted and returned her eyes back to where William was now cuddling several youngsters, however Ellie’s words niggled in her head. Maybe tonight was the night.

—————————————————————————————-

Kate shivered and warmed her hands over the roaring bonfire, captivated by the different colours dancing together in harmony. Beyond it, shadows of her friends illuminated against the night sky by the flames showed their bodies, dancing in harmony to the music that roared through the village. Laughter filled the air, partly to do with the alcohol supplied to them by the villagers and partly to do with the Salsa dancing, many partook in. Turning her head to the left slightly, she caught sight of William, leaning against the wall of a little hut, casually holding a glass of local beer. His deep laughter sent a shiver down her spine which she revelled in momentarily before chastising herself for allowing him to have that effect over her. Standing in front of him in a casual stance, stood Hilary Castle; her blonde hair glowing in the light of the fire and her lithe body leaning into him. She watched with jealousy as he dipped his head closer to her to hear what she was saying before laughing again, throwing his head back in mirth while his blue eyes twinkled. Unable to watch any longer, Kate stood up and wandered over to where the salsa dancing was taking place. Within minutes she was thrust into the arms of a slightly drunk village boy, the music running through her as she allowed her inhibitions to leave her.

It took one glance over to ruin the evening for Kate. All of a sudden, the warm tingly feeling from the dancing and the alcohol and the laughter left her. She felt numb, her eyes unable to tear themselves away from the sight of his lips moving over hers, their bodies pressed against the wall in eagerness and the glass of beer abandoned on the floor at their feet, its contents leaking over the grass. The shrieks of laughter from her drunk companions only reminded her that what alcohol she had consumed was not enough to numb the pain of him kissing someone else. Extracting herself from her partner’s iron grip, she hurried over to the bar and grabbed a glass of something.

‘You okay?’ Kate jumped and whirled around to face a young local. He had large brown eyes and floppy hair. He grinned at her ‘I’m Marcos’, holding out his hand to shake hers. Then, he pointed to the large glass she was about to knock back. ‘Do you just want to get really drunk or is there something wrong?!’ He asked, sounding amused. ‘That stuff is strong.’

‘Oh. Well…I just. Um.’ Kate stuttered, her brain refusing to form coherent thoughts. Then, on seeing his kind expression, sunk into the chair next to him and buried her head in her hand. ‘To be honest, I just want to block out the image of the guy I like snogging the face off someone else.’

‘Ahh.’ He replied, and took a measured sip of his drink. ‘Guy troubles.’ Kate nodded and gave a muffled sniff. ‘Well I know the perfect way of clearing your head.’ Kate looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

‘What would that be? And don’t say Salsa dancing, I’m really not in the mood.’

He chuckled. ‘Salsa dancing, when done with a professional, is very sexy. It looks fantastic and is perfect for getting back at him. You don’t have to do much, leave it up to me. All you have to do is look interested in me, laugh and smile and he will be fuming.’ He replied, puffing out his chest proudly. ‘Come on!’

Kate hesitated. She didn’t want to be petty, but it did sound perfect at showing him she didn’t care. Plus it would save her from disgracing herself tonight and ending up with a colossal hangover in the morning. Giving him her hand, she allowed herself to be pulled from the chair and into the open, next to the roaring fire.

Kate was vaguely aware of the noise surrounding her as they cheered her and Marcos on. The music fired through her veins, stronger than what alcohol could have done. His arms around her were like an iron vice, but were gentle at the same time. Their hips moved in unison and his eyes bored into hers. If she didn’t know that the look on his usual cheeky face was for effect, she would think that he was a passionate lover. He spun her around, flipped her upside down and lifted her to the sky, all the while; never leaving her eyes. She played her part, laughing and smiling, although it didn’t take long for it to become natural rather than forced. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw William, watching. His features knitted together in a conflicted expression while Hilary stood beside him, cheering them on like the rest of the blurred faces around the campfire as she passed them. Marcos let out a small smile every time he saw her eyes dart away from his to see William.

‘It’s working’ He murmured, flipping her down again suddenly, a shriek of laughter escaping her lips as he did so.

The evening ended with them all singing around the fire, most very drunk by now. Kate herself was feeling a bit woozy, having had a few drinks with Marcos afterwards. She had caught William watching her, even so with his arm draped around Hilary, a woozy smile on his face and his usually clear blue eyes hazy. She ignored him, hoping that maybe he would see how much he had hurt her. Surely he knew that she liked him? Perhaps he didn’t. Kate had pushed that thought out of her head. Practically everyone else knew she liked him, surely he did too?

Kate collapsed into bed that night feeling happier than she had in days. Slowly the sounds of singing quietened down, and one by one, everyone had fallen into a contented sleep. Kate slept soundly, a small smile still playing on her lips. William however, lying next door, lay awake, the images of Kate pressed against another man with a huge smile on her face flashing through his mind, mingling with the ones of his lips pressed against Hillary’s. Confliction ran through him, was it possible he liked Kate? She was his best friend…but what about Hilary? He knew he liked Hilary also. Kate couldn’t possibly like him, he thought. Eventually William fell into a troubled sleep, alcohol numbing his thoughts.

————————————————————————————————————————————–

Kate let out a huge yawn as she made her way to the kitchen the following morning for breakfast. Truth be told she had a little headache, but nothing compared to what it could have been if Marcos hadn’t stepped in when he did. Wondering if there was some porridge, she opened the door and entered the small, messy kitchen. Her heart sank as she saw the one person she really didn’t want to see sat at the large table in the middle. He looked tired and was gulping down a cup of coffee. He looked up as she entered and smiled nervously.

‘Morning Kate’

‘Morning’ she replied, ‘Is there any porridge going?’

‘Yeah it’s on the stove’

Kate helped herself, trying to ignore the tense silence that passed between them. It made her sad, she didn’t want their friendship compromised. She smiled at him as she took a seat opposite him.

‘You look tired’ She commented as he knocked back the dredges of coffee from his mug. He shrugged.

’Yeah. Last night was quite wild.’

Kate nodded, her lips set in a tight line before she began to eat her porridge.

William lifted his head up from where they had previously been staring into his coffee cup and his blue eyes held hers for a few magical seconds.

‘What do you think of Hilary? Is she as nice as I think she is?’ He asked, trying to make light of the awkward situation.

‘Yeah, she’s lovely. Had a crush on you for ages. She wouldn’t shut up last night!’ Kate chuckled, but it sounded hollow and empty, a shell of its previous self.

William nodded nervously and opened his mouth to speak when the door flew open and William was interrupted. Hilary entered, in all her shining glory, her blonde hair done in a French plait and a tight white top highlighting her curves.

‘Morning!’ She chirruped loudly, settling herself next to William ‘How did you sleep Wills? Hope you spent all night dreaming about me like I did!’ Kate struggled to hold in a wince as she laughed loudly, flipping her hair back and thrusting her chest out.

William smiled, ‘Of course. Who could forget about you?’ Kate’s wince was even more obvious than before and Hilary turned to her, her eyes narrowed

‘Is something the matter? Your ruining the atmosphere between me and my boyfriend’ She announced to which Kate laughed hollowly.

‘Boyfriend? So shoving your tongue down a practical stranger’s throat one evening suddenly means you’re together does it?’ Kate stood up suddenly, picked her bowl up and dumped it loudly in the sink. ‘I’ll be in the village if you need me’ and swept out, leaving William and Hilary staring in astonishment after her.

————————————————————————————————————————————–

Hi Kate,

Pippa here! I miss you lots but I’m sure you’re really enjoying yourself out in Chile! I can’t believe that Prince William is in the same place as you!! You will have to tell me ALL the gossip when you get back! My friends and I are seriously jealous of you! A-Levels are as tiring as always, even more so without you to help me! I broke up with Louis and I really wish you were here to give me advice. It sucks but I’ll get over it. I felt it best as he’s leaving for Australia in a few weeks. Do you have your eye on someone? I bet you do! Anyway, Mum wants to add a note on so I’d better finish! Write back soon okay?

Lots of Love

Pippa. Xxx

Darling Kate,

I hope you’re doing well, I’ve been checking the weather forecast every day to see that you will be okay. You’re in for a bit of nice weather for a while so that will be nice. Thank you for the lovely letter you sent a few weeks ago, it sounds lovely out there. We miss you so much, James and Daddy send their love. James is in the middle of his exams so high tension running through the house on weekends! Pippa tells him to stop worrying but you know how hard it is for him! I miss being able to talk to you about things darling but I suppose I’d better get used to it since you will be off to University soon! Must end now darling as I’m running out of space. All my love and kisses

Mummy xxx

Kate smiled in amusement at her sister’s chatty expressions as she wandered away from the tiny post office in the village. Some of her anger and upset had cleared on receiving her letter and the sun shining made her feel brighter.

‘Hello again’ Came a familiar voice behind her and she spun around to face Marcos, his dark eyes dancing and his hair messy. ‘How’s your head?!’

Kate grinned despite herself, his smile was infectious. ‘Not too bad. Although watching Hilary and William snog over breakfast didn’t help my mood.’ Marcos frowned sympathetically

‘Not even the sexy salsa with a dashing signor helped?’

‘No.’ Kate sighed and began to walk, him trotting beside her as they made their way to the local crafts shop.

‘He’s an idiot then.’

‘No he’s not’ Kate replied before she could stop herself.

‘So are you.’ He said, rolling his eyes. ‘Come on’ and he grabbed her arm and herded her into the shop.

Half an hour later, Kate and Marcos came out of the shop, giggling happily about nothing. Kate felt considerably brighter than she had since she woke up and having bought a few goods for her family had cheered her up.

‘Don’t look now.’ Came Marcos’ voice suddenly, breaking into her thoughts as they made their way back through the village towards the cabins. Kate lifted her head and her eyes scanned the area, falling on the sight of two lovers kissing against a tree. She giggled,

‘Why? It’s cute, they’re just kissing!’

‘No really. Don’t look Kate. It’s William and little miss leave-me-alone-to-snog-my-stranger-boyfriend.’ Kate’s heart plummeted into her stomach and she averted her eyes.

‘Lets go the other way’ She mumbled, but Marcos grabbed her arm and looked at her, his eyes blazing.

‘No. were going to walk right on past.’

‘Oh do we have to?’

‘Yes.’ And with that, he began to drag her up the path towards where they stood, arms entwined and heads bent.

She thought she’d made it past without either noticing, the cabins were so close and she was nearly there-

‘-Kate?’ She winced and turned apprehensively around

‘Yes?’

William was looking up at her, his hair messy and a guilty look on his face. Hilary stood beside him, also slightly rumpled and her lips swollen. William stepped forward

‘Are you okay? You seemed a bit upset this morning.’

‘Oh yes I’m fine! Absolutely smashing.’ She said cheerfully, desperately trying to keep sarcasm out of her tone. “There’s nothing like watching the guy I’m in love with snogging the face of someone else three times in the space of 24 hours” She thought.

William didn’t look convinced and opened his mouth to speak when Hilary stepped forward. She looked a little put out.

‘William. I know she’s your best friend but is there really any need to waste any more of our time together worrying about her? I mean she looks fine to me! Excuse us Kate, my boyfriend and I have some business to attend to.’ She said, a smug look on her face as she finished. She grabbed William’s arm at which he suddenly looked very irritated. Kate ground her teeth together and turned to leave

‘Come on Marcos. Let’s get a drink.’

Marcos nodded obediently and hurried after her, concern etched on his tanned face as she stormed off, all the while William staid rooted to the spot, watching her leave.

to be continued…

#mrandmrswales #royal fanfiction #cambridge fanfiction #kate middleton

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mysticsparklewings · 3 years

Photo

I keep promising to attempt to return to regular posting and then not really doing it, don't I? XP Well, hopefully this time I mean it. I do want to. And whether you guys can tell or not, I have made some behind-the-scenes strides towards being able to. One of the things pushing me this time though is I'm mad at myself that I neglected to post really anything substantial in March, which is going to mess up how I end up filling out this year's Art Summary in December/January time. That probably sounds like a silly thing to be worried about, but...I don't know. I like having at least one thing to show per month that shows what I did during the year. It's like a super-extended checklist of, "Yeah, I did something that month!" Anyway. I thought maybe posting something like this--A bit more than my usual WIP Wednesday of empty promises--would help hold me more accountable...and now you can also see I'm not kidding when I say I have a backlog of stuff I haven't posted yet. XD Some of my be familiar, some of it I've mentioned once or twice before, some of it is totally new to you guys...and some of it was technically "backlog" even before my unintentional off-again on-again hiatus. But I've blurred the names since some of the titles aren't finalized and a few I'd like to keep as a tiny bit of a surprise. ;) As for the WIP Side, technically most of what you see is also backlog now, but it hasn't been scanned in yet, so I'm withholding "backlog" status until then. Still, you can see I have finally finished the Art Snacks piece I've shown actually WIPs for twice now, a funny little cat drawing I've said nothing about, the PRINTED PROOF FOR THE NAPOWRIMO BOOK! :D, and underneath all that is the planner I set up to...help me keep track while playing catch in Animal Crossing. Yes, part of my absence initially included not playing AC:NH since mid-November, and then more recently was because of me trying to catch up in-game between when I stopped playing and the present day. Now, the NaPo Book is probably the most exciting thing for obvious reasons. And while I don't want to drag out the details too much here (I fully intend on doing a separate post about that), I will say that I now understand A. Why there's usually a whole team of people behind making a book and not just one person; and B. Why we order proof copies before putting the thing up for sale. Because somehow a handful of mistakes made it past me and at least three other people I had look at the book before ordering the proof. XP Something also kind of exciting is I do have a small assortment of supplies that I'm almost done swatching (which yes I have totally been procrastinating on) and will then need testing, which means viable excuses to make yet more art to add to the pile! Of course, then the problem becomes getting myself to sit down and write out all the descriptions for said art. I know technically I don't have to, but I like having that written record of what I did most of the time--because I do revisit my old descriptions sometimes to replicate the process for a new piece--and I personally don't like how some artists make these big elaborate pieces and then have nothing to say about how they made it other than how long it took. To me, there's something humanizing about explaining the process, so to just skip it altogether would just feel wrong to me. Although considering how not wanting to physically put in the effort to do that has held me back, I may experiment with not going into quite as much detail or otherwise trying to streamline my process a bit. (And admittedly some pieces have been in my backlog so long I don't fully remember all the details...which is exactly why I try very hard to get the descriptions done sooner rather than later.) And you know, in some ways it may look or feel like I'm constantly playing catch-up in one way or another, but I've realized that when I really get in the mood to sit down and dedicate time to something, sometimes I actually like having a looming pile staring at me. Part of the reason I hadn't played AC in so long was I was a bit burnout and kinda bored with it, but having so much to do to catch up really reignited that fire in me. The game felt like it had purpose again. While we're on realizations, I probably don't have to tell a lot of you that I'm still in the camp that a lot of my life and my mental health is just better and more enjoyable when social media is not in it. Extra so for Twitter, in particular. Do you know how much nicer it is to only have to check my very small list of "favorites" to see what they're up to, which takes about 5, maybe 10 minutes at a time, and not feel like I owe it to any of them to interact with their tweets? [Because most of them are too big to even notice me anyway, but I digress] That is SO much better than the endless home feed scrolling of hundreds of people, lots of whom I don't even follow they just show up because people I follow, follow them (which I want to turn all the way off so badly but I can't because that's not how Twitter works) and half of which is content I. Could Not. Possibly. Care less about. I like Twitter for news on content creators that can't easily post a small status update to Youtube or whatever. I DO NOT like Twitter for Social Media. AT ALL. Seriously. I opened myself up to posting pictures of my cats over there, and it's STILL not enough to keep me posting and engaging regularly. That's how bad it is. Ahem. My little rant aside, I have thus decided since the Twitter Game™ does more harm than good to me, in general I'm just not going to play it anymore. I'll post my art over there and other stuff when I feel like it, but otherwise, I'm just captial-D Done With It until further notice. It's just better that way. Speaking of games, you may all be surprised to know I've been chipping away at a little video project [about a game] while all this has been going on, too. The NaPo Book comes first, but I'm hoping to have some serious headway on the video done, if not have it finished, by mid-June/July. I've mostly been bouncing around various software trying to find one that can do everything I need on a budget of exactly $0, and the good news is I think I've finally landed on one...which I'll spare you the details of for now. Once the video is closer to being a reality, then we'll delve more into that. So...yeah, that's what's been cooking in the metaphorical Mystic Kitchen. And I tell you guys all of this to 1. Hopefully be the first of that "regular posting" I want to do (still looking at once a week, which I've said probably 500 times before now), and 2. Putting it out there, as I alluded to before, will hopefully be like me signing a contract with myself. "You said you were going to do the thing, so do it." And with that, I suppose I should end this here since this description is surely long enough already, and get back to work on some of that stuff so I'll be more likely to follow through with it, yeah? ;) See you soon, I hope

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asongofmarvelanddc · 5 years

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Sworn Enemies PT2

PAIRING: Alfred X Reader

WORD COUNT: 2914

THEMES: Fluff, Ivar being Ivar.

SUMMARY: Ivar finds out about your secret relationship with Alfred, and Alfred makes you a proposition.

A/N: This is a repost because my old blog got deleted. There’s a few changes tho. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💛

It had been more than two weeks since your talk with Alfred and you had not stopped seeing him despite your little brother's growing suspicions. He made sly comments and stared at you every time you were in his presence. You knew you weren't doing what he thought you were doing, but you still found yourself feeling guilty. That was because you knew that your relationship with Alfred was a greater betrayal than giving up battle secrets.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" Alfred's blue eyes flicked up from your intertwined hands to look into yours.

"You ask me that question every day before we part," you smiled softly at his question, "You know better than to ask me." You leaned up and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, his hand cupping your cheek. When you pulled away, his hand didn't leave your cheek.

"I shouldn't feel like this," he murmured, his eyes looking into yours as his thumb stroked your cheek softly. You swallowed thickly at the intensity of his stare.

"Feel like what?" you whispered, your voice coming out huskier than you had intended it to, but Alfred was unfazed.

"Like I love you," he said almost in a daze, then his eyebrows furrowed and his gaze focused on yours again, "I love you."

You let out a breath at his confession and dropped your eyes to the damp ground. Aside from your father, your mother and every brother with the exception of Ivar, no one had ever told you they loved you. No one. That was probably the reason why you felt hot tears prickling in your eyes.

"You do?" you felt your eyes well up as he nodded, a small smile gracing his lips, "I do too...I love you."

A wide grin broke out on your face at the realisation. Alfred leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek, but before he had a chance to pull away, you grabbed his face and smashed your lips against his. He pulled you flush against his chest as he kissed you back with just as much passion and fire in your hearts.

Your hands left his face and you wrapped your hands around his neck. You wanted to keep yourselves locked in this embrace, and you knew that without the extra encouragement, Alfred would have pulled away long ago.

During your heated kiss, you heard a crackle behind you, and apparently Alfred heard it too, because he pulled away from you just as abruptly as you did him. Your head snapped around to look behind you.

"Did you hear that?" Alfred whispered to you, his eyes looking in the same direction yours were.

"Who's there?" you called out. You listened as more footsteps retreated quickly and you turned to Alfred with alarmed eyes.

"You should go back to your camp, Alfred," you said, your voice panicked as you tried to push him to go, "It's not safe."

"They could be my men, then it's not safe for you," he gripped your upper arm to stop you from heading towards danger.

"I don't mean to insult your men, but I have no doubt that I can handle them," you smiled, your hand resting on the axe on your hilt. He looked down to where your hand rested and smiled.

"I forget your women are not like ours," he said before leaving. You knew you could handle Alfred's men, what terrified you was the thought of your men spying on you, and you felt sick at the thought of them reporting what they had witnessed to your brother.

__________________________

You walked into Ivar's version of the Great Hall in Kattegat and felt eyes staring at you as you walked towards his high table. He was sitting on it, legs dangling in front of him as he had some leftover meat from the meal he had just finished. Hvitserk stood somewhere to the left of you, leaning against a wall. His eyes followed you as well, but he didn't look angry, he looked...disappointed.

But Ivar...He didn't look like anything. Over the years, he had learned to conceal every single emotion he felt with what others would call an ‘evil grin’. He believed that since he already had a weakness, in the form of his legs, his emotions shouldn't be one too. The only way to tell what he felt was by looking into his eyes. From where you stood, you couldn't see them, so you didn't know what he was feeling right now, but you could guess: betrayal.

"Where have you been? Hm?" he asked once you stopped in front of him. He leaned forward, and at your silence, he simply shrugged and ate another piece of meat.

"I will tell you where I've been, hm?" he raised his eyebrows looking almost amused, "I went for a walk to...stretch my legs," he joked, garnering a few laughs from the audience, "Imagine my surprise when I found my dear, sweet sister in the arms of a Christian Prince."

Oh.

The rustle in the leaves wasn't Ivar's men. It was Ivar.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach as you looked down at your feet guiltily.

"The son of the man who is leading the slaughter of our men right now," he chuckled, but then his voice changed - it became harder, "The grandson of the man who sent our father to his death."

Your eyes snapped up to meet Ivar's and you found that they were bluer than ever. He had dropped the tight, fake smile and replaced it with a scowl. Never had you ever been afraid of Ivar in your life.

Until now.

"Why?" he asked, his voice sounding sinister. You looked away from him again and avoided the gaze of the other men and women in the room.

"He's not the man you think he is," you whispered, but gaining more courage, you looked up to Ivar, "His father and grandfather's sins are not his own."

"'Sins'?" his eyes narrowed and you knew what he was thinking - that you sounded just like them.

"He's a good man," you said, defending Alfred before your brothers and your army.

"He's a Christian," Ivar spat the word in disgust, anger evident in his eyes. You frowned and jutted your chin out. Suddenly, you weren't afraid anymore. The truth in your words helped to build your confidence.

"The man our father trusted and loved more than anyone else in this world was a Christian," you reminded him of Athelstan, a man Ivar never met. Ivar's left eye twitched as he sat back and stared at you with hard eyes.

"If you are going to kill me for my betrayal, little brother," you stepped forward so you were at least closer to him as you whispered, "Go ahead and do it." You stayed there in that position, waiting for him to react and when he didn't, you felt as though you had won.

You turned around and began to walk briskly out of the hall, but as soon as you reached the doors, you felt two men at your sides grab each of your arms. You struggled against their holds, but even you knew that it was no use.

__________________________

The men dragged you to the dungeon underground and chained you to the wall. Ivar had told you that before he and your father parted, Ragnar was kept in a place just like this one. You didn't know whether it was the setting or the fact that you were sure your death was looming, but you felt closer to your father than you had in a long time.

You heard footsteps outside the dungeon, and from the grunting and shuffling, you knew it was Ivar. He appeared in front of the barred door, two men at his sides to hold him up, but he grabbed onto the bars as they opened it before he dismissed them.

Once the men were gone, he let himself drop to the ground. You watched silently as he crawled towards you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. You were sure he was trying to intimidate you. He kept crawling until he was beside you before propping himself up into a sitting position and leaning against the wall next to you.

You were both silent for a moment. You didn't know why he was not speaking, because it seemed like talking was Ivar's favourite thing to do.

"There is going to be a battle here tomorrow," he suddenly broke the silence and you turned to look at him. His eyes were on the floor, and he looked dazed.

"Many people will die, and most of them will be Saxon," he said, letting out a little chuckle as he turned to look at you with glee in his eyes, "What I have planned, they will never see coming."

"We will take them completely off guard, and they will die in the hundreds," he continued with a small shrug, "You better pray to the Gods, to Freya, that I don't catch your Saxon Prince. Because if I do, I won't spare him."

You gasped at his statement and watched wordlessly as he pushed off from the wall and began to crawl out of the dungeon.

"All my life, I have done nothing but love you," you began and he froze, "Despite the horrible things you would say to me, and our brothers. Despite mother treating you like a King and leaving the rest of us to fend for ourselves. Despite you murdering our brother."

Ivar's whole body tensed at the mention of Sigurd, but he still didn't turn around to look at you.

"I loved you through it all," you choked back a sob, "Why are you doing this me?"

He turned around slowly, his eyes soft.

"Dear sister, don't you see?" his head tilted to the side, and he looked...caring, "I'm doing this because I love you."

A gasp escaped your lips. This was the first time you'd ever heard him say he loves you. The second time you'd ever heard him say he loved anyone.

Without another word, he turned around and crawled out of the dungeon, his men barring the door after him.

__________________________

You didn't see anyone again until the next night. You had heard the fighting earlier in the day, and from the cheers after hours of gnawing on your nails and balled up fists, you gathered that your people had won. You had waited in agony for Ivar to come down with news. Any news.

The waiting was the torture. You wanted to know Alfred's fate whether he was alive or not. That was the only thing you cared about since Ivar had left you alone the day before. You had not slept a wink all night and day, the thought of food never even crossing your mind. You thought he would come down to brag abut murdering your love, if he had killed him, but it had been hours and not one person had come down.

It was nightfall when someone finally did. Ivar sauntered in on his crutches with two men who brought food for you. They dropped it along with water in front of you, but you pushed them aside as you stared at your brother, waiting for him to speak. After a minute of you staring at him, he finally did.

"What?" he asked in fake confusion, his eyebrows raised.

"Ivar!" you yelled at him and pulled at your chains, but he didn't even flinch. He simply let out a hearty laugh.

"Calm down, sister, I have good news," he smiled at you, and your heart leapt to your throat. Good news for you, or for him? From the smirk on his face, you guessed it was the latter.

"We are going back home. Tomorrow," he smiled with mischief in his eyes, and for a moment, it looked like he had been possessed by Loki himself. As soon as he announced that, he turned and began to limp out of the room.

"Ivar!" you called out to him angrily and he let out an annoyed sigh and turned to look at you, "Is he dead? Alfred...Did you kill him?"

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes already. You were pleading with him to tell you the fate of the man you loved, and he could not even give you that. He simply narrowed his eyes at you, before limping out of the room.

That was when you realised your punishment. It wasn't this dungeon. It wasn't even going back home. It was never knowing what happened to Alfred.

__________________________

It had been a month since you had returned to Norway, but you were at Vestfold, King Harald's Kingdom. Ivar had still refused to tell you Alfred's fate, even though he saw how much not knowing had devastated you. You barely spoke to anyone, not even Hvitserk who was adhering to Ivar's wishes and refusing to tell you Alfred's fate either.

Your violent self had taken over, and with a refusal to talk to anyone, came a hatred for everyone around you. Anything as minor as someone standing in your way when you wanted to walk past would cause you to snap and injure someone.

Which was the reason why you chose isolation. You were at the river bank, cleaning your sword as well as sharpening it, when you heard footsteps behind you. In the blink of an eye, you were standing upright with your sword pressed against the stranger's neck.

"Who are you?" you asked as you eyed the man. He had long black hair and a scruffy beard, but something about his eyes made you believe he wasn't one of you. He wasn't Viking.

"Forerynel êow Y/N?(Are you Y/N?)" he asked, his eyes narrowing at you.

"Gêse yfel. ðêos ârweorðung êower?(Yes I am. Who are you?)" you demanded his identity as you pressed the sword against his throat harder. You assumed he noticed the uncertainty in your tone, because he began speaking in your language.

"King Alfred sent me," he said and you felt your throat hitch. Did he just say what you think he did?

"King Alfred?" you breathed, tears welling up in your eyes as the man handed you a letter, "I thought he was the Prince?"

"He was. The King died, and Prince Aethelred declined the throne," the man answered and you struggled to control your breathing.

You thought about the possibility of this being an elaborate hoax set up by Ivar and you imagined him hiding behind the trees, laughing to himself. The thought made you feel sick.

The seal on the letter was not broken, so you knew this man was trustworthy, however, when you read the letter, you thanked the Gods that this man had not read it, because if he had, you doubted he would have brought it to you.

Y/N,

I hope this finds you well.

When I didn't see you again after that day, I assumed that your brother had discovered us. I was hoping to find you some way, but then I found out that you had returned home. No doubt your brother’s doing.

But I’ve been doing some thinking, and it doesn’t have to end like this. What I'm going to ask of you may seem impossible at first read, but I want you to consider awhile before you make a final decision.

Come to Wessex and marry me. Together, we can come to a solution about this war that your brother and I could never reach. We can bring our people together, the way your father and my grandfather failed to do so many years ago.

But above all that, I love you, Y/N, and I want you by my side.

Please consider my request. I will wait for you, however long it takes.

-Alfred

You noticed the royal stamp beside his name, and it made his words all the more real. You hadn't realised you were crying until you finished reading. You wiped your eyes and dried your cheeks before looking up, only to find that the man was gone. Back to Wessex, probably. You looked down at the letter in your hands with a heavy heart.

You had never felt more relief in your life.

Alfred was alive.

A breathy laugh escaped your lips as you dropped to your knees. You lay down flat on the ground as you absorbed everything Alfred wrote. You had a choice to make.

Your brothers. Or your lover.

#alfred #alfred the great #king alfred #alfred vikings #alfred x reader #alfred the great x reader #king alfred x reader #alfred vikings x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #hvitserk #vikings #vikings season 5 #vikings fic

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pocket-clown · 5 years

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Camping with Arthur Fleck may include;

// original request: Okay, I have a request! It seems to be a recurrent desire of reader to get out of dreary Gotham at least for a few days and taking Arthur, (who has probably never traveled in his whole life) with her. What about taking Arthur to a trip? I'm not talking about Pogo's or the cinema. I'm talking about a proper place with nature and stuff. (Everyone talks about leaving Gotham but no one dares. Let's make it a reality! Poor man needs a rest).

Thank you for the request, @art-hurfleck!

Word count: 1,510

Poor man needs a rest indeed.

You’ve always been aware of this, even well before you really got to know Arthur; it was painfully obvious how tired, sore, and just flat out overworked he was, and as your relationship progressed, the more did you realize that he rarely, if ever, got any sort of break.

You were well fed up with it, but you didn’t realize how much you were until he returned home almost two hours late one autumn evening; Hoyt had been well intent on punishing him for a mishap at HaHa’s that he was hardly even involved in, overworking him with gigs and offering little extra in pay, and after watching an especially exhausted Arthur practically come limping through the door that night did you make up your mind - you two were going to get out of Gotham for a few days.

Of course it couldn’t happen right then and there, but after a couple months of careful planning, spending, and saving did you settle on an idea; about two hours outside of Gotham was a campsite, and given the time of year you knew it was unlikely for anyone else to be out there, and that gave plenty of ample opportunity for you and Arthur to have some alone time without the stress of the city looming over you.

Camping wasn’t terribly expensive; the most costly thing would be the tent, but thankfully a coworker of yours offered to lend you hers for a period of time, and that was an offer that took a load off of your shoulders, and the rest followed suit. The remainder of the supplies you managed to gather easily; typical campfire foods and treats, basic necessities, plenty of old pillows and quilts, and you even managed to score a rather nice sleeping back that would fit the both of you.

All was set and planned; you had a date and time picked out, the supplies were hidden, stashed intricately in the closet of your shared apartment, but there was just one small thing left - you still needed to tell Arthur.

It was supposed to be a surprise, after all; you didn’t want him stressing over helping you prepare for everything, so you chose to keep it a secret until about a week before you planned to leave. You’d managed to pull a few strings and convince Hoyt to allow Arthur to have a few days off, and now all you needed to do was convince Arthur to come along.

At first, he doesn’t believe you. It’s not that he thinks you’re lying or anything, but rather - he just doesn’t... believe you. Leaving the city - to go camping? With him? He’s never, ever been outside of Gotham - and wasn’t camping expensive? Sure, it was a nice thought; the idea of having you all to himself for four days and not have to stress about work was nice, but he never believed for a second he’d be able to do that.

But after enough reassurance and instance from you that you were serious does he eventually believe you, and the last time you had ever seen him so excited had been all those months ago when you admitted your feelings for him. It’s such a childlike elation; a wide, happy grin on his face, his eyes have that glint that they only get when he’s genuinely happy and content (an occurrence that’s far, far too rare, in your opinion), and he asks question after question about when you’re going, how long you’ve been planning it (and are you sure you were alright doing it by yourself? He would’ve helped), if you’re sure it’s something you want to do, and so on. Knowing that not only did he get to spend a few days out of the city and not have to stress about work and responsibilities during them was one thing, but knowing that he got to spend those days with you and you alone? It’s some of the best news he’s ever received.

Sleep the night before is restless and nonexistent, but not due to his typical insomnia - he’s just too damn excited to calm down enough to get any rest. The two of you were leaving around 10 the next morning, and thankfully the same friend who was lending you her tent offered to give the two of you a ride out there and pick you up as well, and so you and him would be spending a good, almost four solid days outside of the city in nature.

Things change a bit once the two of you are actually out there, though; it’s an incredibly unfamiliar environment, and so for a good few hours Arthur is a bit uneasy and glued to your side. The tent was easy enough to set up, and the fire wasn’t nearly as hard to light as you thought it would’ve been (it was entirely thanks to Arthur as he brought a lighter along with his cigarettes), and you made good time with setting up. It was a cute little site; your tent smack in the middle of a small clearing, your bags and belongings nestled safely inside, a good few feet in front of the tent was the fire, and a bit out beyond the cover of the trees was a small, calm lake.

The lake quickly becomes Arthur’s favorite part of the entire trip, as late in the evening did the shore have such a beautiful view of the stars. The amount of light pollution and smog the city produced rendered a clear view of the sky an incredibly rare occurrence, and never in his life had Arthur felt as calm as he did when you and him were cuddled up on a thick, warm quilt with nothing but each other and the night sky above without the noise and unrest of Gotham. You two spend hours every night out there, gazing up at the sky while you wait for fatigue to overtake you and force you into the tent for the night.

Arthur uses the fact that you’re technically outside and without any heat as an excuse to be glued to you at night (not that he even needed one - you loved to cuddle him), insisting that he needed to keep you warm and safe.

"Arthur, it's just you and I out here - I'm safe leaving the tent by myself."

"You never know, Y/N… what if there's a bear one morning?"

It was such a silly worry, but you knew it came from a place of love, and he said it so sweetly that you’d feel too guilty to deny him - and plus, you loved feeling protected by him, and you knew that he loved knowing he was keeping you safe.

It's such a silly worry, but the way he said it was so cute that you couldn't help but oblige and not resist him exiting the tent each and every time you did.

No work and no responsibilities that needed tending meant that the two of you got to sleep in for as long as you wanted. Insomnia followed you both everywhere, though, and luckily you had brought along a flashlight - so it wasn’t uncommon for you to wake up a few times a night and find Arthur awkwardly bundled up inside of his side of the sleeping back, the flashlight tucked between his neck and shoulder as he wrote away in his journal.

Speaking of his journal, he writes entry after entry detailing how the two of you spend the days; "Y/N showed me how to lite a fyer today", "I saw a shooting star last nite, I made a wish", "Y/N lookd reelly prety in the sun today". He wants to remember all of it, going as far as to find some token of nature (a particularly nice leaf, or a feather if he's lucky) to tuck in the pages so he has proof that the trip actually happened, a reminder for any time in the future if he’s having a rough day.

He's so reluctant to leave on the last day, wishing for nothing more but for the two of you to spend just one more day out there (unbeknownst to you, that was what he'd wished for when you two saw the shooting star the last night there), but once you informed him that you two could take plenty more trips in the future did he perk back up.

It genuinely becomes one of his fondest memories of time spent with you. Just the two of you and no one else, no Gotham or any of its cold, callous, citizens - nothing except for just the two of you existing together, alone, under the stars - it was all he could ever ask for.

And he will. Every now and then does he pop the question; when could the two of you go camping again? You’ve introduced him to a whole new world of pleasure, and he wants nothing more than to experience it again.

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taglist;

@tahliamalfoydepp @tsukiakarinobara @smol-nari @ajokeformur-ray @lavenderheartz @lady-carnivals-stuff @darknessisafriend @emissarydecksetter @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend @fleckcmscott @oldloverhippiemusic @hearthurfleck @sgtsavoytruffle @honking4joker @art-hurfleck (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x you #joker #joker 2019 #joker x reader #joker x you #joker 2019 x reader #joker 2019 x you #arthur fleck headcanon #joker headcanons #joker 2019 headcanons #mine

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fyexo · 5 years

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191115 Meet SuperM, the Team of K-Pop Superstars That Became One Big Family

SuperM has arrived. It’s late afternoon in Los Angeles, and voices can be heard floating through the halls of Capitol Records in L.A., muffled and low. They’re just out of sight, but if the video teasers for the K-pop supergroup’s debut are to be believed, the seven members will turn the corner burning with a smoldering intensity, walking with the confidence of an elite squad of K-pop assassins trained to vaporize the competition with a single look. All have been hand-picked for this mission from some of K-pop’s most successful groups: Taemin from the legendary SHINee, Kai and Baekhyun from the record-breaking EXO, Mark and Taeyong from the massive 21-member group NCT, and Ten and Lucas from NCT’s Chinese subunit WayV. Together, they are an industry team of aces, pairing powerful performance with immense individual skill in dancing, singing, and rapping.

But as they find their seats around a massive marble conference table, they’re more like a bunch of brothers at summer camp. Kai, an often blush-inducing dancer, has pulled the arms of his sweater over his hands to create soft paws and is hiding behind them as he whispers to giggling rapper Lucas. Baekhyun, the group’s leader and stunning vocalist, scrunches his nose in frustration as he struggles to open a water bottle. One by one, each member relaxes into their chairs and widens the gap between their slick onstage personas and their sweeter offstage selves.

Taeyong looks softer than his icy rapper persona as he yawns and stretches, the blinding silver highlight on his cheeks catching the sun as he adjusts the waves of his purple hair. Ten, usually a brooding dancer, is disarmingly friendly. When a part of the conversation strikes him as funny, he looks around the room to find someone else who is laughing and wrinkles his nose at them as if to say, “Isn’t this all so silly?” Mark, the youngest, is usually the excitable little brother of NCT. But as SuperM’s strongest English speaker (he’s actually from Toronto, Canada, originally), he matures into a calm and collected translator and only ages down again when caught in a fit of laughter.

The member with the biggest gap between onstage and off is Taemin, the group’s most senior member in terms of experience, who was selected from one of K-pop’s foundational groups, SHINee, and boasts one of the most successful solo careers in the history of the industry. When performing, Taemin is wickedly villainous, sensual, and sophisticated. In a recent interview, Taeyong went so far as to describe Taemin’s stage presence as “a bit immoral.” But offstage, in this conference room, Taemin’s small frame is almost swallowed up by his chair. He likes to hold water in his cheeks so that they puff out like a fish, and his big, round eyes, which are usually narrowed for effect when he performs, stare blankly from beneath his shiny blonde bob. He is so quiet that he sometimes appears to not be paying attention at all, but then one of the other guys cracks a joke and his entire face lights up.

The group is in high spirits, coming off of an intense October weekend of stateside promotion that included their first official appearance as SuperM, the debut of the music video for their single, “Jopping,” the release of their eponymous debut mini album, and a performance for thousands outside of Capitol’s iconic headquarters in Hollywood. SuperM carries on the legacy of SM, one of K-pop’s oldest and most-revered entertainment agencies. “If you ask me, I’d say what the world now considers K-Pop began with SM Entertainment,” says Taemin, through an interpreter, as Ten nods in agreement. “SM was the very first company to take musical influences from Western culture and incorporate Korean culture into that by rearranging and writing lyrics with our style.” When Taemin finishes, he turns to Kai in embarrassment and says, “I’m too proud of SM, huh?” But Taemin is right; the company created what is considered to be the first modern K-pop idol group, H.O.T., in 1996, and has been a dominant player in the space ever since.

The guys don’t show it, but they are under an immense amount of pressure. SuperM was conceptualized and produced by the founder of SM, Soo Man Lee, and their staff notes that curiosities are piqued, even within the company itself. “I think people are interested in this new attempt because we are not newbies. Each of us are from groups that are already well-established,” says Baekhyun, the eldest. Kai agrees, “We feel obliged to live up to their expectations.” They don’t know it yet, but in a week they will have the no. 1 album in the United States.

Despite looming expectations, the guys seem more delighted by the new arrangement than worried. “I’ve been in SHINee for 10 years, so starting a new team almost felt like getting a different job,” says Taemin. “I was excited; it felt so fresh, like a new start. To be honest, I thought the project was going to get cancelled when I first heard about it, so SuperM has a special place in my heart.” Baekhyun finishes, “Each of us saw it as an opportunity, a new challenge, and that helped…” Taeyong chimes in, “It united us.” “That’s right,” nods Baekhyun, “Now, we feel like we’re a family.”

That bond was formed quickly, over a handful of summer months in 2019. Though they all trained and worked under SM, most members had only ever seen each other in passing, like students in different grades at a large school. Despite this, the synergy between them is almost telepathic. After Baekhyun fails to break the cap on his water bottle, he silently pushes it towards Taeyong, who opens it for him with a twist of his wrist and without a single word. Members often finish each others’ sentences and exchange knowing looks across the table. Whenever Taemin isn’t sure about the meaning of a word in English, he leans over to consult Ten. At one point, Taeyong looks at Mark with pride and reaches out instinctively to stroke the youngest’s ear. This must be fairly normal, because Mark barely reacts.

When they return to Korea after this trip, each member will rejoin their respective group or solo promotions until they come together again as SuperM in November to tour the U.S. and Canada. Kai discloses that Lucas is already exhibiting separation anxiety. “This morning Lucas said to me, ‘Hyung, I wanna move in with you! Can’t we move in together?’” Kai says, using the Korean word for “big brother.” Lucas lets out a wild, guttural giggle as Kai snitches again, “Even Baekhyun said in the car that he would miss us after we all got back from the States!”

For these short two weeks in Los Angeles, they’re living together and having what sounds like the time of their lives. They’ve all taken roles around the house. Baekhyun is known for recalibrating the group dynamic, cracking jokes to lighten the mood. “I’m the reaction, I react to them,” Taemin says cheerily. “Mark and Ten are English teachers,” says Baekhyun, “Taeyong is the cook and dishwasher…” “and alarm!” chimes Taemin. “Taemin is in charge of dieting,” says Kai. Taeyong points to Baekhyun, “And he disrupts dieting,” he says, as they all crack up, “he’s the Diet Destroyer.” Baekhyun shrugs. “We’re the tall ones,” says Kai, pointing to Lucas and himself. “I’m in charge of getting things that are far away,” says Lucas, with a laugh that is almost musical. “He’s the biggest baby,” says Ten, smiling lovingly from the corner. “There are cups and plates placed high on the cupboard...” says Taemin. “And Lucas takes them out for us,” finishes Taeyong.

Like most families, they watch Netflix together. “We like zombies, especially Kai hyung. He likes The Walking Dead,” says Ten. “And Black Mirror,” suggests Mark. Taemin looks up at Ten with doe eyes and says “Stranger Things!” in a small voice, which Ten repeats at a volume everyone can hear. They go swimming in the house’s pool, play mafia and video games, and share meals, Taemin’s favorite. “I love that we eat breakfast together every morning. We wouldn’t do that if we weren’t close. We feel comfortable with each other’s company, it feels natural.” They’ve had everything from Korean meals and Chinese food to pancakes but, usually, they eat cereal. That is, until the diet destroyer gets involved. “We started off with Froot Loops,” says Mark, “and then we searched through the refrigerator and saw strawberry yogurt. Baekhyun was like ‘Alright, we’ve got to put the Froot Loops in the yogurt!’”

Between the seven of them, they speak five languages: English, Korean, Chinese, Thai, and Japanese, so “sometimes communicating gets very confusing,” says Lucas, switching into Korean for the last word, to underscore his point. Still, “we understand each other very well,” assures Mark, “and I feel like that's the true role of K-pop: bringing cultures together.” Ten nods in agreement. He can speak four languages and has remained alert throughout the interview, like a guard dog, leaning in to translate Korean or Chinese to English. “What’s cool is that we’re from different places, so when we talk we get to learn new vocabulary,” Ten notes, as Taemin looks on with cheeks full of water. “Sometimes I even teach them Thai,” he says, beaming proudly. “That’s the best part.” On cue, Taeyong presses his palms together, bows his head, and says the Thai word for “hello.”

SuperM has been focused on breaking into the United States, so many of the members have been learning English from Mark and Ten. Taemin, who is already fluent in Korean and Japanese, says “pronunciation” has been the hardest part. A few days earlier in an Instagram live stream, he playfully pleaded with fans of SHINee, called Shawols, to help him learn the language. When asked about that, Taemin smiles, shrugs his shoulders up to his ears, straightens his arms and splays his hands wide in discomfort, like a scared cat. With perfect pronunciation he says, “I hope to speak English well but...” and then makes a gesture that communicates, “I hope to get better.” Taeyong nods and says in English, “Step-by-step,” while Kai lets out a supportive, “Wow!”

In September, Baekhyun also took to Instagram to announce that he and Lucas were delighted and perplexed by the sound of one word in particular: awkward. The mention of this sets off a domino effect during our interview, as each member tries pronouncing “awkward” themselves. Then Baekhyun introduces a new word: turtle. He points to his mouth, which he has opened comically wide to get the sound just right, “Toooortle!” “The word turtle is so awkward!” summarizes Taeyong. Then they can’t be stopped—their favorite terms are flying back and forth across the table: Pronunciation! Positive energy! Level! Frog! Pioneers! Taeyong slowly sounds out “performances” and then claps for himself when he’s done. Over in the corner, Baekhyun leans back in his chair and crosses his arms matter-of-factly. “Turtle!” he says with confidence, one last time, as Mark bursts out laughing and Taeyong slaps him playfully on the knee.

The room is so warm with joy, so free from ego and pretense, that it’s easy to forget that these seven friends are some of the world’s most celebrated performers. Despite their differences—in age, language, culture, and experience—they function as a single solid, supportive unit, united by one goal.

For almost the entire interview, Mark and Taemin have been playing with two thick silver rings overlaid with heavy crosses. At one point, Taemin experienced a brief panic when Mark’s ring got stuck on his finger. “We got these as a gift from Mr. Soo Man Lee,” Mark says seriously, holding his up in front of his face. Each member’s ring bears a slightly different design, but they all “have ‘Super M’ inscribed on the back.” The accessory feels overtly symbolic: a physical reminder of the heavy expectations that unite them. “This is our Thanos Infinity Gauntlet,” Mark jokes, referencing SuperM’s branding as the “Avengers of K-pop.” As he laughs with Taemin, his face softens and he looks like the group’s little brother again. Then they both pick up their rings and place them back on their fingers, joining the rest of their team.

Source: Elizabeth de Luna

#exo #kai #baekhyun #t: interview #album: superm

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pbandjesse · 2 years

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I'm sitting on the floor in my bedroom at home. Because camp got shut down for the entire week. Because the power is still not back on.

Today was a particularly stressful day because of a lot of those issues. I woke up at around 6:30 because they were a chainsawing the trees the head falling down outside of my building. The power was still not back on and my phone didn't have a lot of battery. But I have saved some of the power bank juice so I was able to get my phone up to half charged and it never died throughout the day. Honestly it could have been worse.

Nobody really knew what was going on. Some people were still able to get on their phones most people's walkies had died. So communication was stilted. I was able to figure out that we were doing flag at 9:15 and breakfast at 9:30 as a pickup. I slept until 8:30. And when I got up I washed my face and did all my regular stuff just in the dark. I still had one set of string lights that had some juice so it wasn't awful. Everything just felt a little weird. And it was really humid.

Everything was just very very wet and there were sticks everywhere and I ended up just wearing my bathing suit and a pair of pants with my rain boots today. Which wasn't the coolest outfit but I was more comfortable than I think it would have been in anything else.

I would walk down to where they were doing breakfast and I got an orange. I helped out with the senior staff meeting before that and I suggested I still create the theme for the day so that we can use it with the people who couldn't go on their regular programs because of the storm. Tubing and swim and the field were all closed. But only one group ended up utilizing that. I don't think it was communicated well.

But I have my orange and I had my angel food cake that James made and I waited for my first group. It wouldn't be until 10:30 and it was a pioneer group. They were nice boys but they didn't really understand the pipe cleaner project. It's funny to see which ages get it and which ones don't. They tell me they understand that it's about bending and connections and then they just cut up the bike leaders and try to glue them together. Which is exactly what I told them wouldn't work. It's all about experimentation I guess.

I only had three groups today. My next group was one of The stockade groups. They were a small group and all they wanted to do was make bracelets. Two of them knew how to make the regular bracelets but I taught the rest how to do it on the loom. They were having such a good time they ended up hanging out with me for almost 3 hours. Through their entire program through lunch and through the hour after lunch. Honestly they were a dream. They were sweet and kind and they just wanted to make bracelets. During lunch we all want down and got our sandwiches. I end up sitting at homestead with olive and talking about the fire that she was making and how you can use plantains not the banana but the other kind. It's like a weed. To make a salve. And that's what her project was. And then I went back up to arts and crafts where The boys continue to make bracelets and I read my book. But I did have to kick them out eventually because I had my last group of the day.

The last group was the oldest girls. And they were very sweet and made things out of clay. But about halfway through their program Charlotte came up and pulled me and all the other counselors over to her and told us that they were shutting down camp. We still didn't have power which meant we still didn't have water. And it had been too long. And they were making the call. Alexi said this was the first time she had ever shut down camp. She shut down day camp before but never overnight camp. The wife had been there and tried to figure out how they're going to refund people and how they're going to get parents to come back. But honestly it was a nightmare.

For me most of the day was pretty calm but after that moment everything kind of got crazy. trying to figure out where parents were and how to get their kids back. Some parents were on vacation and thanks for just everywhere and all at once. I had a CIT come up and help me clean up and put things away so that I was packed up for next week. I started setting up and making the poster but I decided it wasn't worth it. I'll do it on Friday when we go back to clean everything. I was just a little bit too frazzled. I actually left my purse at camp with my wallet. Not my best move but that is okay.

I just had to try to figure out how I could help everyone else. I would have to take some breaks. Because I kept getting overheated but I would create coloring pages and arts and crafts supplies as bundles to bring down to the little kids. And I made sure people have cleaning supplies. I took a break and read for a bit. But then I was back to cleaning up my stuff and packing it back. I went and hung out with Alexis kids and I made a list for Elizabeth to figure out where they are Nationals were going to go stay. And it was just a lot.

My mom called me but my phone was only at 30% so I had left it up in arts and crafts and I missed the call. she would tell me she was going to lay down and to call her back later. So that was on the back of my mind but I knew that James was coming for me and then Laura and another international Ibti, asked if they could come and stay here with me and james. And of course I said yes. Things would be fine. I'm glad I could provide them with somewhere to stay. And then it was 5:30 so I called my mom.

And the thing that I have been expecting to happen for the last year is finally happening. My dad is out of options and his leg is not getting better. And so they're wrestling with the decision of getting rid of it. The leg. And I have been saying that I think Dad's quality of life will be better and I think that he'll be able to heal and that he can have his life back. But I understand that it's your leg. And you grew that. And you've had it your whole life. And it's part of you. But I think this is it. This is you getting your life back and I really hope that it happens and he can be in a place where he can feel whole again even if he's missing a piece. It's definitely going to be different but he keeps saying all he wants is to walk me down the aisle and I think that this is the way that it's going to happen. So while I'm hurting for my dad I think this is the right move.

And because my family is the way that it is it was all dark humor. This is a great way to lose 40 lb. You can be any height you want now because they're going to give you a fake leg. Maybe it'll be a very cool peg leg. Everything will be okay.

And then James was there and we went and got the girls. I had checked in with Alexi and she said we go. There were still a lot of kids that needed to be picked up but none of us had any kids at all so she said it was all right. So James took us and we went to get something to eat. We were all tired and dirty and we haven't eaten real food all day. So we went to wegmans.

We got pizza and egg rolls and potstickers. The girls got to have silly sodas from the freestyle machine. And we came home. We made jokes about what we're going to do tomorrow. I want to go paint pottery. And I think it's going to be a really fun day.

I am excited to have friends here. it's been a really nice night for the most part. I say the most part because basically we've done is answer questions about Waco and 9/11 and are corrupt Justice system. It has been hilarious seeing two girls from the UK freak out about how our system is. And all the propaganda that we learn and the reasons that people believe what they believe here. We talked all about redistricting. And how gerrymandering works. It's been a fun night honestly. And now we're all in line to get showers. It will be nice to be clean. And letting the guests go first of course. Me and Ibti worked on getting the beds together. Poor Ibti Pat said she could just sleep on the floor but I have an air mattress. So we set up the mattress and the couch. And I had James put in the air conditioning unit in the living room. So hopefully they won't be to uncomfortable.

And tomorrow we're going to try to just have a fun day. I want to paint potpourri and maybe we'll go to a thrift store and we'll go eat something funny. I am looking forward to it. We got a free day off and I hope that we can really take advantage of it.

Sleep well everyone take care of yourselves.

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witharsenicsauce · 4 years

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Chosen Stories From the War #25: The House That Death Forgot, Part 1

Distress signals were nothing new to Bradford. One came along at least once a week. If it was from an established Resistance camp, there was no question that XCOM would be on the trail in a heartbeat. Sometimes though, the signals came and went, or they consisted of only a few words, or static, and as much as it pained all the senior officers, they couldn’t afford to chase every stray call for help.

But this was different: the voice coming through on the message...it was hers. It was Annette Durand.

He didn’t need to run this by the Commander, though he would. He knew what she’d say. Annette was as valuable as Zhang had been. Annette, while not as close as Zhang, was a friend.

And friends didn’t leave friends behind.

So there he sat in his office, her message on repeat.

“This is Taymallat. I am alive-”

“I am alive-”

He kept pressing play. Pressing play. Hearing her voice hurt. Hearing her…

He put his head in his hands. Only for a moment though, then he stood, and marched towards the Commander’s quarters.

“The signal came from Panay, an island in the Central Philippines.” Bradford said as he paced around the Commander’s desk.

“What province?” She asked. “Panay is a big island, Bradford.”

“I’ve never been there, Commander, so I can’t give you directions.” He said. “But the coordinates read 10°52'59.1"N 122°29'48.9"E.”

Senuna closed her eyes, like she was doing math in her head. “...Cabatuan, in the Iloilo province.” She said confidently. “Not too remote, but I don’t think anyone lives there anymore.”

“The populations of the island nations were all evacuated to the city center in Central China.” Zhang said. His voice was still quiet, but it was always quiet. His skin had fully lost that yellow, jaundice color and his gold eyes were bright once again. He still sat on the adjacent couch, as per Senuna’s request. “If anyone is there, they are either in hiding, or ADVENT is expanding.”

“Well we can’t leave Annette in there.” Senuna stood. “Call in the Chosen. We need our best.”

“Are you sure, Sunny?” Bradford asked. “Darkstrider just returned from a mission.”

“With the Hieromonk having healed him up? I’m beyond sure.” She smiled. “Plus, you’ve seen how the three work together.”

“Well.” Jane said. “With that logic, Madam, will you be sending a medic?”

Senuna sighed. “This comes up quite a lot, now.”

“I’m only asking.”

“Malinalli-” Bradford barely got the name out before Senuna sent him a glare that made him freeze.

“Two missions she’s been on in the last few weeks.” Senuna snapped. “That’s more than I ever wanted her out in the field. And right now, I want her on the ship.”

“Why?” Jane asked.

“Because it’s safe!” Senuna snapped, then righted herself. “She...she has duties here. And I want her to focus on her work on the ship.”

“But what does she want?” Zhang asked.

“Don’t you test me.” Senuna hissed at him. “You’re my friend, Chilong, you should know-”

“And as your friend, I am here to help you make the best decision.” He stood up. “And sealing her in the Avenger like a princess in a tower is not the best decision.”

Senuna slammed her hands on the desk and took a deep breath. Light was dancing at her fingers and, behind her eyelids, her irises were glowing greenish blue.

Zhang clasped his hands in front of him. “But it would also be wrong of me to force you to put her on the line with no insurance.”

“Yes it would.” Senuna’s eyes dimmed. “...Thank you for understanding, Chilong. This means a lot to me.”

“Of course.” He clasped his hands. “At least, if you send her out, she should have some sort of protection. That being said, Commander, I would like to be placed on this mission.”

That got everyone’s attention, even Jane let out an audible gasp. Senuna met his gaze.

“No.” She cried. “I can’t risk you both, Chilong!”

“You forget the power I have in my hands.” A smile brushed at his lips. “I may be old, but these old bones aren’t yet brittle.” He bowed. “I shall protect Malinalli, and the Chosen, and Taymallat when we find her.”

The strain left Senuna’s muscles, and she sank into her chair, seemingly pacified. “...Bradford…” She whispered “...call in the Chosen, and Malinalli Zúñiga. It’s time we brief them for this mission.”

Zhang stared at the Chosen with...curiosity. Almost fear, but not quite fear. They did not look like the officers who had cut him open and shoved tubes into his body, who had left him to rot in a cell, but they were still so alien, yet so human all at once.

The female among them was the easiest on the eyes: Kon-Mai Mordenna. He had seen her only once before, and she had been on the screen of an officer’s data pad: a video of her cutting down defecting soldiers, eyes glinting like a cat’s in the low light. But even though his picture of her had been blurry at best, he could still tell she was now different. Her hair—he had not even realized she had hair—was much longer, reaching to just below her shoulders. She wore it back in several thin braids, similar to the tubes she had possessed in ADVENT. Her armor was adorned with XCOM’s colors, and her sword’s hilt had been dyed a dark navy blue instead of the ADVENT red. She bowed to him as she saw him, a gesture he never expected from this woman. Her posture was straight and stiff and her eyes were focused.

“It is good to see you well, Colonel Zhang.” She said. That raspy voice sent a shiver through him.

Zhang nodded. “Well met...Shrinemaiden. I...apologize for my behavior last time we spoke.”

“There is no need, I did not take any offense.” On her lips, he saw the tiniest hint of a smile. She seemed both young and old at the same time, with a youthful complexion, but noticeable wrinkles around her eyes and cutting into her mouth.

Behind her, a dark shadow loomed and pushed past the door, and that was when Zhang had to take a step back, as his panic was beginning to overwhelm him. He knew the being before him; he’d encountered him more than once before his capture. But more importantly he knew the story behind him, who he was, and it all made Zhang want to weep for the boy he had lost.

The Hieromonk stood two inches taller than his sister, a giant among giants. He turned his gaze on Zhang, magenta eyes boring into the Colonel, before he, like his sister, bowed before his superior. No, not bow. The Hieromonk sank to one knee, lowering himself to Zhang’s height and keeping his head down.

“It is an honor, Great Chilong.” The beast’s voice was deep and sent a wave of force through the room that only a trained psion could feel. This man was bathed in psionic energy, and he spread the seed wherever he went.

Zhang could only nod, trying to steady his breathing. The Shrinemaiden was respectful, and would not harm him, and the Hieromonk made it clear he respected Zhang. “...Where is the third?” He asked.

“Gur-Rai?” Kon-Mai turned to the door. “...He is coming, slowly. Brother, hurry along.”

“So then I said, ‘I’m not sure how you’re supposed to find a vein in there.’ And that was when he took out a-” As the Darkstrider stepped through the door, he stopped mid sentence and turned his gaze, and Zhang truly reeled.

He had forgotten the terror the Hunter commanded when he stepped into a room. Kon-Mai held sway over the shadows, but also maintained an air of calm, and the Eldest brother was violent and chaotic but could be seen coming. Yet Gur-Rai Madron was the best of the two: as silent as his sister and as crazed as his brother. And as the Chosen saw Zhang, he smiled.

“Shaojie Zhang!” He cried, his arms spread wide. “Good to see you up and about! How’s your...well, everything? Still sore?” He chuckled. “I won’t ask for a thank you: saving you, it’s all in a day’s work~”

Zhang felt numb. He had not forgotten who had freed him, although he very much wanted to. He only nodded in silence towards Gur-Rai, and turned his gaze to the only human to enter the Commander’s quarters.

Malinalli Zúñiga, the one solace in this. She had grown so beautiful since he’d known her: her dark umber skin and black locks were a stark contrast to the three she accompanied. Her smile was bright and kind and friendly. It pacified him, just a little.

“You’re all here.” Senuna gestured to the couches. “Sit, please! Don’t be shy.”

Zhang took his seat again, balking as, beside him the Dakstrider plopped down and spread out as wide as he could. The Shrinemaiden sat politely, only taking up as much space as she had to, and the Hieromonk took up a lot of space anyway, the giant he was.

Senuna looked over the group and nodded. “I’ve already briefed Zhang. You’ll be doing another rescue mission.”

“Oh? Who’s the poor bastard this time?” Gur-Rai chuckled. “No offense, Chilong.”

“Not a bastard.” Bradford was quick to say. “Annette Durand: callsign Taymallat. Another of our old partners from before the war.”

“She had been briefly involved with a radical group called EXALT, and by involved, I mean they kidnapped her.” Jane stood, narrating as though she had read this from a file. “XCOM saved her in the early days of the invasion, just after the first Ethereals descended unto the world.” She took her seat again, beside Kon-Mai this time, the both of them as silent as petals on the water. “She did a lot for XCOM.”

“After Senuna was captured, she took a squad with some of the more powerful psions and led an assault on a nearby train station, hoping to get transport to EXALT’s headquarters. That was when we lost contact.” Bradford sighed, holding the silence for a moment. The mention of Annette seemed to hurt him, but he carried on. “When we lost the base, we also lost hope of ever seeing her again. It’s a big world out there.”

“She must have heard you took the Avenger.” Dhar-Mon said. “It is known throughout ADVENT.”

“Well, that’s not good.” Senuna said. “But, if it led Annette to us, then I’ll take the good news over the bad!” She smiled. “We recently received a transmission from the Philippines, more specifically the island of Panay in the Central Visayas. She’s alive, and calling for help.”

“Do you have coordinates?” Kon-Mai asked.

“We do.” Bradford said. “Pretty remote area, nothing nearby that we’ve seen. I feel a bit nervous sending you out there alone but....” He looked over the group of them. “...This mission holds a lot of...personal importance to me. I’ll do anything I can to help from here.”

“We shall find her, Central Bradford.” Dhar-Mon stood. “And like Colonel Zhang, we shall return her home.”

The sky was clear, and the wind was warm, and the Skyranger flew freely and happily, bobbing lightly on the breeze that carried them along. Under the feet of the four soldiers, though, the dark trees swam like the rolling sea, waiting to swallow them whole.

“This is where y’all get off.” Firebrand called back.

“There is nothing but the sea of trees.” Kon-Mai looked out the door and then back at her brothers.

“Well I hope you know how to swim.” As Gur-Rai stepped forward, the Skyranger shuddered and swayed a bit. “Bryni?”

“Sorry, Sugar!”

Dhar-Mon stepped forward, as though he was about to jump down, when the Skyranger jolted forward and then dropped a full foot. Kon-Mai whirled around, glaring towards the cockpit.

“She’s still mad at me for last week.” Bryni could be heard straining with the steering. “I need ta put ‘er down.”

“Land the Skyranger?” Malinalli called back. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah…” Bryni did not sound sure. “We ain’t near ADVENT, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“You will bring death upon us with your words.” Dhar-Mon sighed as the Skyranger began to descend into the trees. The road that cut across the forest was empty and dirty and provided a nice spot to set the helicopter down.

“Well at least we don’t have to jump.” Malinalli said, gathering up her medkits and stuffing her tools into various pockets. She hopped out first, followed by Kon-Mai, then Dhar-Mon and Gur-Rai respectively. Zhang went last, his body still stiff but his steps strong and determined.

Bryni opened the cockpit and leapt out, removing her helmet and tossing it back onto the seat. “Mind if I walk with y’all up to the gate?”

“I do not mind.” Kon-Mai looked to her brothers.

“Well, I’d appreciate the lovely company~” Gur-Rai winked at her.

Zhang sighed. “You are not human, Darkstrider, I doubt you could fit between the legs of one.”

“You’d be surprised, Colonel.” Gur-Rai smirked. “And plenty of men can say they fit inside me.”

Zhang was unfazed as they began to walk. “Don’t thinl the Elders intended that.”

“Well then they shouldn’t have left my balls intact.” He shrugged.

Now Zhang raised a brow. “Your point being? You can’t possibly father children, Darkstrider, especially not with a human woman.”

“Don’t worry about me, Chilong. I have no intention of ‘siring any offspring’ if you will.” He shrugged. “One might come back and kill me!”

“Then what is the point of lovemaking?” Kon-Mai scoffed.

“It’s fun. It feels good. It stimulates connection between two people, and you get to know someone in a way you never would otherwise.” He winked at her. “Try it sometime, you’ll see.”

Kon-Mai turned purple as she blushed and looked away, drawing her sword in order to begin hacking away at the increasingly thick undergrowth. As the group traveled up the dirt road, the trees growing in their thickness, branches reaching out to brush against skin, the air around them grew thick and heavy, and seemed to be charged with static.

Dhar-Mon brushed down some of his flyaway hairs. “There is a psionic presence here.”

The path ended in a clearing, the trees making almost a perfect circle around the large, black gate that stood at attention in front of the party. Behind said gate, a house—no, not a house, it looked more like a castle straight from a Gothic romance, stone and wood walls blending and creaking under the tropics weighty air—stood at attention, blocking what sun remained and casting a lengthy shadow over them. Around the gate was a flimsy, rusted chain, held in place, though there was no lock around it.

“What is it with us and creepy forests?” Gur-Rai chuckled.

“Maybe there’ll be ghosts.” Bryni giggled, leaning into Zhang’s ear to annoy him.

“Do not be silly.” Zhang sighed. “There is no such thing; if there was I would be more than haunted.”

“You mean you aren’t already?” Gur-Rai shrugged.

“I am haunted by other things. Not ghosts.”

“Okay, big man.” Gur-Rai walked up to the gate and gave it a hard shove. “Huh. Not coming loose.”

“We could easily climb the fence.” Kon-Mai sheathed her blade and walked up to the bars and put her hand on one, hauling herself up. Within seconds she was on top, and dropped onto the other side.

“Hey no fair!” Gur-Rai bounded after her, joining her on the other side within seconds. Bryni was next, stepping up to the gate and taking the bars in her hands. It took her a few tries, but she was soon over.

Zhang crossed his arms and stared at the gate, exchanging glances with Dhar-Mon and Malinalli.

“I can hoist you over.” Dhar-Mon suggested.

“I don’t know about that…” Malinalli clasped her hands. “I don’t want to break my legs before we even get inside.”

“The ground is soft, Molly. I did not break a leg, see?” Kon-Mai assured her.

Malinalli looked over at Zhang. “What do you think? Your stitches are still-”

“They have been removed by now. Even so, I’m going to find another way around.” Zhang pointed to their right. “It looks like there’s a path down there.”

“Then I shall accompany you.” Dhar-Mon said. “Better three together than two.”

“Brother.” Kon-Mai gripped the bars in worry.

“Never split the party.” Gur-Rai echoed her worry.

“I am the Eldest Chosen.” Dhar-Mon chuckled. “I shall be fine. Will you two behave while I’m gone?”

Kon-Mai scowled. “I shall make you eat those words.”

“I am sure. Carry on, we shall rejoin you shortly.” Dhar-Mon and Malinalli followed Zhang down the path.

Gur-Rai, Kon-Mai and Bryni exchanged looks, and Bryni pulled her gun off her back. “Well, after you!”

“Weren't you just supposed to walk us up the path?” Gur-Rai raised a brow.

“Maybe.” Bryni smiled, her white teeth slightly crooked. “Come on, Darkstride, it’s been four score an’ seven years since Sunny let me pick up a gun.”

“Well then, lets fix that.” Gur-Rai said with a smile and a wink.

Inside the house, a shadow shifted out of the light. The kinking of chains, the turning of a lock could be heard.

She moved to the window and gasped when she saw them. One was human but the others…

“Mga taga labas.”

She reached above the mantle to where Father hid the gun.

It would not have been a challenge to get inside: the large double doors were half rotted off their hinges. But the front of the property was just as intriguing, and the three decided to explore a bit there first.

Overgrown vines and bushes sought to hold them back, but Kon-Mai’s sword could cut through steel; this was no trouble for her to clear away. Gur-Rai went around to what looked like it used to be a greenhouse. He felt the static of psionic energy brimming from the overgrown plants, whose flowers had opened up to reveal petals glowing purple and white and green. Touching one flower sent a little jolt down his spine, and he swore something under the ground moved.

Kon-Mai was picking around the front of the house, by the large wooden steps that led up to the main entrance. The house was strange in it’s architecture, seemingly baroque in it’s inspiration, but at the same time, the roof and some walls had been replaced with wood, most likely cut from local trees. It gave the house a Frankenstein’s monster feel, like it had once been a different person but was not cobbled together into something...else.

Bryni put her hands on her hips and whistled. “Well, she’s a bit of a fixer upper.”

“I’ll say.” Gur-Rai came over. “Any sign of our target?”

“None.” Kon-Mai climbed the steps slowly, the rooting wood creaking and almost splintering under her weight. “Take care on the steps.”

“I always take ca-” The second Gur-Rai put his foot on the first step, his foot went through it, splintering the step into pieces and sending him tumbling face first through the rest of them.

Kon-Mai hissed and grabbed Gur-Rai by the hood, hauling him to his feet. “What did I just say?! Are you hurt?!”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, cut it out Mom.” Gur-Rai grumbled. “Not a scratch, see? The legwarmers aren’t that stupid after all.”

Kon-Mai rolled her eyes, looking down to assess the damage. “Are you certain you’re fine?”

“Yes, why?” He looked down. “...That’s a bone.”

“What?!” Kon-Mai looked like she was about to have a conniption until she looked down and saw that both of Gur-Rai’s legs were intact, and that the bone under his feet was not his.

Bryni came over and let out a yelp. “Think you mayhaps stumbled on a burial ground!”

Gur-Rai raised his foot as Bryni got down on one knee and began sifting through the bones and dirt. “Looks like someone here was trying to hide a body.”

Kon-Mai peered up at the castle again. “Something sinister took place here. I can feel it in my bones.”

“I don’t think your bones are the ones feeling it.” Gur-Rai picked up a wide-eyed skull that was missing it’s jaw. “Sorry for stepping on you, friend.” He put the skull on the stone entryway and patted it gently.

The three walked in silence for a while, Malinalli and Dhar-Mon hanging behind at the back while Zhang led them forward through the dusty trail. To their left, the forest opened up into what appeared to be marshland, with stagnant, bubbling water circling the tree roots as far as the eye could see.

Finally, Malinalli spoke up. “Have you ever been out here before, Zhang?” She asked. “When you were with XCOM?”

“...Not with XCOM.” He admitted. “When I was young, and still part of the Triad.”

“Oh.” She smiled awkwardly. “I bet that was cool.”

“It would have been if not for the job.” Zhang admitted. “I was sent to kidnap the children of a Filipino man who owed us over 2 million in US dollars.”

Malinalli fell silent, but now Dhar-Mon spoke. “Your kind assigned such value to something as fleeting as a slip of paper or a pressed bit of metal.”

Zhang turned and stared blankly at Dhar-Mon for a moment, and Malinalli was worried he’d angered him.

Then Zhang chuckled quietly. “Yes. It is...it was silly. That we were willing to torture and murder for something that, ultimately, did not save us.” He sighed.

“...What happened to the kids?” Malinalli asked.

“I took them to a safehouse in Manila and held them there for four months until we were delivered ransom.” He replied. “From them I learned a decent amount of Tagalog, and I’m sure they picked up some Chinese from me.”

“That’s kind of cute...aside from the whole ‘being held against their will’ thing.” Malinalli looked around. “Is it just me or is the air getting kind of heavy?”

“There is much psionic energy here.” Dhar-Mon said, looking around. “More than there should be.”

“Annette is a powerful psion.” Zhang said. “It makes sense. There. Over this way.” He pointed forward. “That looks like a back door.”

“Let's hope it’s not locked.” Malinalli said as she slid down the embankment after Zhang. The three of them landed on a ravine that seemed to contain an old shed, another, much rustier gate, and lots of glowing flowers.

Dhar-Mon approached the shed first. The door was tilting off its hinges and he pushed it away with barely a shove. Inside, he saw a menagerie of insects, spiders and cockroaches the size of his own hand, that all seemed to be staring at him with glowing eyes. His skin crawled and he stepped away, but not before looking down and feeling the cold sensation of fear run up his spine. “There is a body here!”

Zhang immediately turned away from the gate and ran towards Dhar-Mon, Malinalli following close behind. When they got to him he saw the fear on Zhang’s face dissipate. “...That’s not a human.”

Dhar-Mon looked at the body again. At first, the tiny skeleton resembled a child’s corpse, but then the structure of the bones became more familiar as he stared. He got down on his knee, still maintaining distance.

“That’s a Sectoid.” Zhang clarified.

“But it’s so small.” Malinalli said. “All the Sectoids I’ve seen were taller than me.”

“Early invasion, the Sectoids were the size of children, sometimes smaller.” Zhang inched closer, careful not to disturb the spider webs. “The skull has no teeth either, see how it is fused where the mouth should be. And the eyes are far too large.”

Malinalli saw the insects and took a step back. “So...why is it here?”

“I do not know…” Zhang looked at the house. “But something tells me the answer is inside.”

Kon-Mai pushed the door open easily, the old wood creaking as it swung open. The inside of the house was eerily quiet, but her sensitive ears picked up the sound of footsteps.

“Firebrand, on overwatch.” She hissed, crouching down and cloaking herself. “We are not alone in this house.”

“Oh sure, go invisible and leave me.” Gur-Rai grumbled as he pulled Darklance off his back and took up position behind Bryni. “How come you get all the fancy toys?”

“Because I practice.” She hissed, and because of her cloak her voice sounded as though it was coming from everywhere.

“I don’ hear anything, Sugar.” Bryni whispered. “Sure it ain’t this old house creakin’ you heard?”

“I know the sound of footsteps.” But even so, Kon-Mai let her cloak down. Perhaps she had imagined it.

“Maybe it was the ghosts~” Gur-Rai chuckled, twiddling his fingers as he put Darklance back on his back. “They’re coming to get you, Konnie~”

She scowled. “Firstly, Brother, that movie is bad and you know it.”

“Oh fuck you, Night of the Living Dead is a classic.”

“And secondly.” She crossed her arms. “There are no such restless spirits, at least not in a place like this.”

“What are you talking about?” Gur-Rai raised his arms. “This is exactly the type of place ghosts hang out!”

“Don’t tell me you’re one of them skeptical types.” Bryni giggled. “Ain’t your brother got that special power that lets him summon psi zombies?”

“Yes…” She bit the inside of her cheek. “But those apparitions are under his control. They do not wander about on their own.”

“What about the Lost?” Gur-Rai asked.

“They are technically still alive.”

There was a thunk from upstairs and all three of them flinched.

“A spirit could not have made that noise.” Kon-Mai drew her sword confidently. “There may be squatters in this house.”

“Hey!” Gur-Rai called up the stairs. “Whether you’re just here for a warm place to sleep or you’re haunting this place from your eternal damnation, come on out with your hands up. I have a big gun that I’m sure will hurt you either way.”

Silence. Bryni looked around at the both of them. “Maybe it was the wind.”

Then, the singing started. A tiny, childlike voice floated down the echoing hallway, down the staircase towards the three.

Ili-ili tulog anay,

Wala diri imo nanay.

Kadto tienda bakal papay,

Ili-ili tulog anay.

Zhang shoved the gate open: this one was unlocked and gave easily. Malinalli rubbed her shoulders, not from the cold (in fact it was actually growing pretty hot out here), but from that prickly feeling that something was watching them. She reached out and latched onto Dhar-Mon’s hand, and he looked down in surprise.

“Sorry…” She said. “I just...wanted to feel like I’m not the only person alive out here.”

He nodded and gave her hand a squeeze. “All will be well. We shall find Taymallat inside and leave swiftly.”

Malinalli nodded, repeating that sentiment to herself. Somehow though, she didn’t believe it.

Zhang hopped up the steps to a large, stone door that looked more like it was part of the wall. “...Huh…” He ran his hand over it, then stepped back, his eyes wide.

“What is wrong, Colonel Zhang?” Dhar-Mon asked.

“...Nothing.” Zhang shook his head. “Nothing important.” He felt around, then pressed a stone on the door that made it slide open. “...Follow me.”

“How did you know…?” Malinalli let the question die on her tongue.

The back entrance of the mansion led them through a cold, damp hallway that was guarded corner to corner by spiders, roaches and other bugs none of them recognized. Malinalli could duck down easily but Dhar-Mon had to bat the bugs away with his hand, a sensation that was not the least bit thrilling.

The hallway ended in another door that opened up to what appeared to be the kitchen. The smell hit them first, must and mold and rotting food. Dhar-Mon covered his nose and Malinalli gagged. Zhang, however, looked around with an expression of disturbed familiarity.

“...This way.” He said, becoming them to follow.

“How do you know that?” Malinalli asked. She was still holding tight to Dhar-Mon’s hand.

Zhang didn’t answer, but he jogged out into the hallway and looked around. Above him, a derelict flight of stairs that entered darkness. To his right, it seemed to stop at a dead end, but Zhang knew that behind the wall tapestry, there was a secret door.

“There’s a way into the main foyer through here…” He said, looking up the stairs.

“Hold up.” Malinalli said. “...Do you hear something?”

“It’s probably the wood.” Zhang said.

“I don’t think so, it’s coming from up the stairs…” Malinalli let go of Dhar-Mon’s hand and looked up into the darkness.

Zhang grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him. “Do not go up there.”

“Why?” Malinalli asked. “Why do you know where to go?!”

“Molly, he may be right.” Dhar-Mon said. “I sense something from the darkness…”

A childlike voice floated down from the steps.

Ili-ili tulog anay,

Wala diri imo nanay.

Kadto tienda bakal papay,

Ili-ili tulog anay.

“Fuck it.” Gur-Rai said. “Ladies, behind me. I’m going up there.”

“No.” Kon-Mai said. “I shall lead.”

“No WAY, little sister.” He snapped. “If someone attacks, I’m the one taking the brunt of it. No ifs ands or buts.” He drew his gun. “Follow me.”

Bryni sighed, taking up rear while Kon-Mai held the middle position. They carefully ascended the stairs, these ones seemingly holding their weight better than the ones outside.

Bryni held out her hand. “Hold up. Somethin’s up ahead.”

Gur-Rai cocked his gun, which seemed to echo. “You wanna come out? Or should I just shoot until I hit you?”

Silence for a moment. Then…

Footsteps. From the darkness emerged a figure. The figure of a girl, no older than 18. Her black hair was long, and looked like it might have been well kept if it wasn’t so dirty. Her white shirt had sleeves that were puffed at the shoulders, and her blue plaid skirt was full of holes and covered in something...black.

She stared at the for a moment, examining Bryni, then her eyes moved to the Chosen.

And from behind her back, she pulled out a shotgun.

The scream sent the three of them into fight or flight mode. Malinalli froze, ducking down in the middle of the hall, while Dhar-Mon summoned up his power in each hand. Zhang ran for the tapestry hanging on the wall.

It was a shame; it was a nice tapestry, a weaved picture of the moon with a woman standing behind it, wreathed in shadow. But he couldn’t take the time to admire artwork when his teammates were possibly in danger.

Zhang ripped the art away and flung open the secret door. “Hieromonk, stay with Malinalli.”

“What about you?!” Dhar-Mon called, but Zhang had already disappeared into the door.

Malinalli hung onto Dhar-Mon’s robe, pressing her face into the cloth. “I’m okay.” She said as he lifted her to her feet. “I just...was startled.”

“Would you like to remain here?” Dhar-Mon asked.

She shook her head. “Our friends need us don’t they?” She grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

Bryni’s scream was the first thing they heard. The second thing was the gunshot.

Kon-Mai and Gur-Rai both dove to the side, unfortunately leaving Bryni wide open. The bullet whizzed past her, just barely missing her shoulder. She cocked her gun and tried to shout a warning, but the girl shot again, her black eyes crazed with anger. She looked around, seemingly searching for the Chosen.

“Nandito ka para sa kalaban!” The girl cried out, catching sight of the Darkstrider and pointing her gun at him. “Narito ka upang patayin ako!”

“I don’t understand a damn-” He dove for the ground, and the banister behind him splintered as a bullet ripped through it.

Kon-Mai jumped from her cover and grabbed the girl by the arm, trying to wrestle her to the ground. At first it was no contest, in a move that shocked everyone, the girl’s eyes glowed purple and she vaulted Kon-Mai over her shoulder, throwing her to the ground. She cocked her gun, and Kon-Mai rolled away just as she fired into the floor, causing part of the rotten wood to fall away, taking the three of them down.

Zhang ran in in the midst of this, just as Gur-Rai and Kon-Mai were pulling themselves from the wreckage of the second floor walkway and Bryni came careening down the stairs. “We ain’t alone in here, Colonel!”

“What the hell was that?!” Zhang asked, looking around. “And who did this?”

Dhar-Mon and Malinalli joined him, and upon seeing the wreckage, Dhar-Mon ran in and began helping his younger siblings to their feet.

“A girl.” Kon-Mai said. “She was nought but a teenager...I don’t understand how she was so strong…”

“Where is she now?” Zhang looked around. “Maybe that was Annette.”

“Didn’t look like her.” Gur-Rai said. “Too young. And I don’t suppose Annette spoke Tagalog?”

Zhang sighed. “No...no she did not.”

Kon-Mai looked at the stairs. “Is there another way to the second floor?”

“We saw some stairs back this way.” Malinalli said. “Come on.”

“We shouldn't go up there.” Zhang said.

“Why?” Malinalli snapped.

“Finding a homicidal teenager isn’t part of the mission.”

“Yeah, but finding Annette is.” Bryni pointed up. “And if she’s upstairs? Good fuckin’ luck.”

Now rejoined, the party crept through the dilapidated house on careful feet, breathing quietly between them. The stairs, the ones Malinalli pointed them to, led down another dark, narrow hallway that Dhar-Mon had to struggle to fit through. Malinalli made it through first this time but as she stepped forward, Zhang caught her arm.

“Let me.” He commanded her, and stepped in front while she grumbled. He came to a stop in the middle of the hall, and ran a hand through his short, white hair. “Ó tiān nǎ, bùshì nǐ.”

“What’s up?” Gur-Rai said as he emerged, rising to his full height once again.

“Nothing. Come on.”

Malinalli looked back at the group, stopping dead in her tracks and keeping her voice low. “Zhang isn’t being honest.”

“I had noticed.” Dhar-Mon crossed his arms.

“He is an old veteran.” Kon-Mai said. “His memories might bring him pain. Leave him be.”

“I don’t think it’s that. I think he knows something about this house.” Malinalli insisted. “And he shouldn’t be keeping secrets like that from us.”

“Well, if it helps us…” Bryni shrugged. “Whattya wanna do about it?”

As Malinalli opened her mouth, from the floorboards below, there came a rhythmic thumping noise.

Zhang jogged back over to them. “Do you hear that?”

They nodded, and Kon-Mai pushed forward, crouching down and feeling along the floor. “...The boards are thin but...this floor is thicker than these boards.”

Malinalli looked to Zhang. “Did you know that?”

“Not that.” He followed Kon-Mai as she moved, one foot before the other, down the hallway. She stopped, stooped, then stood again and kept moving until she came to a crack between the wall and the floor. “It’s from here.”

“It’s probably a cockroach.” Gur-Rai said. “I can shoot it.”

“No.” Zhang stooped low, feeling along the ground. Then, he laid his hand against the wall, and felt it give a little under his touch.. “...Shrinemaiden, move to your left and put your hands where mine are.”

Kon-Mai did as he asked. Zhang waited, gave her a nod, and the two wiggled at the wall until a patch of the wood slid away. The room this secret doorway gave way to was nearly pitch black, and dust coated nearly everything, flying into the now open air. They heard panicked footsteps rushing toward them, and the two jumped back just in time.

A woman burst from the room, stumbling on the floorboards and falling to her knees, gasping for breath, her grey-brown hair hanging in her face. She saw Kon-Mai, screamed, and then in her scramble to get away, saw Zhang. Her eyes grew wide. “...Chilong?”

“Taymallat…!” He pulled Annette Durand into a tight hug. “You’re safe now. We’re going to get you out of here.”

“No!” She cried. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“Huh?” Gur-Rai raised a brow. “You called us here, bitch. We came all this way-”

“I know I did, I didn’t know! I had no way of knowing…” Annette pulled away from Zhang, looking around at the group. “...Chilong, what is...it doesn't matter!” She grabbed his hand. “We must go. Maybe there is still time!”

“Time for what?” Zhang asked. “Taymallat, you aren’t making sense.”

“If you’re worried about the girl, don’t be.” Gur-Rai crossed his arms. “We can take her.”

“Is she alive?” Annette asked. “If she is, then-”

The house let out a groan, then what sounded like a woman’s scream.

“...She knows you’re here.” Annette gripped Zhang’s shoulders. “There’s no escape now. Not unless you can find a way to kill her.”

(Dun dun dun! Hate to leave you on a cliffhanger but this chapter was pretty hard to write. Hopefully now that we’re in the action, next one will go much more smoothly. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go nap away the afternoon!

Song used: Ili Ili Tulog Anay, a Filipino Folk Song.)

Archive: https://chosenstories.tumblr.com/

#xcom #xcom 2 #xcom 2 war of the chosen #xcom au

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starspatter · 4 years

Text

Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 14

Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback

Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.

Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2,526 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Also on ff.net and AO3.

Lies, lies, lying little beast Lying little man on the corner of the street Singing "Why, I can't come out to play Can't come out and say that I'm afraid of what they'll say"

-Run River North, "Lying Beast"

————————–

Then.

Stephanie walked purposefully down the dormitory hallway towards her destination, which she had learned of through Cass after the other had shockingly announced she was now… “involved” with someone and asked point-blank for her advice. Steph had been surprised (not to mention maybe a tad jealous) that she had been granted visitation rights before her – especially when she herself wasn’t even sure if she had reached an official “dating” stage yet with her suitor- er, tutor (although they had undergone several “study sessions” together by this point) – but nevertheless was happy for her roommate. …Besides, her profile’s “single” status would hopefully change today.

Checking her hair and outfit, she nervously fixed and fidgeted a little in front of the doorway, before taking a deep breath and knocking on the entry. After a moment, it slowly creaked open a crack to reveal a rather confused-looking Tim.

“Steph? What are you doing here?”

“Hey! I just came to ask you something quick, if you’re not too busy.” She beamed her best and brightest.

Tim’s eyes darted anxiously aside as he swallowed.

“Uh, now’s not really a great time…”

“Who’s that, Tim? A friend of yours?”

Stephanie blinked as a stunningly beautiful woman unexpectedly emerged from behind Tim, ravishing red locks and coquettish lips smiling cordially.

“Ah, you must be Stephanie! Tim’s told me a lot about you.”

Steph’s gaze shifted suspiciously to Tim, who looked like his world had just come crashing down around him.

“…Has he now?”

The stranger grinned widely as she extended her slender palm, revealing twin rows of perfect pearl teeth.

“I’m Barbara Gordon. Pleasure to meet you.”

Tentatively, Steph took it.

“...Nice to meet you. Wait, ‘Gordon’ – as in the new Police Commissioner?”

The woman nodded.

“Bingo, you’re looking at her.” Her voice abruptly took on an authoritative tone. “I’m here on official police business, conducting a top-secret investigation. You wouldn’t happen to have seen any suspicious individuals around, would you?”

“Babs,” Tim cut in sharply as Steph started to sweat and panic. “That’s enough. Quit frightening her.” (Although rather than relieve her apprehension, it only increased further at such informal address.)

…On a first-name basis?

“Kidding, kidding. I’m giving a guest lecture on Criminology over in the West Wing. Speaking of which,” Barbara glanced at her wristwatch, “I should probably get going. Class starts in 10 minutes. I just came by to say ‘hi’ to Tim.”

She began to gather up her things, bustling out the exit with a wink to Tim on the way, who only winced and shrank further in response.

“I’ll leave you two kids alone. Take care, Tim. I’ll stop by again some other time.”

Steph watched her figure’s wake until it was gone, silently envying sophisticated style and… mature body shape as it sashayed away.

“She’s awfully pretty,” she mused aloud, suddenly feeling even more self-conscious. “What exactly is your relationship with her?”

Don’t tell me he’s actually into older women. There’s no way I can compete with that.

Tim rolled his eyes with a sigh.

“It’s not what you think. She’s like an older sister.”

“…Seriously?”

How strangely ‘convenient’ all his supposed ‘relatives’ seem to be gorgeous supermodels.

“Trust me, there’s nothing like that between us.”

She gauged his earnest expression, before accepting assurance.

“All right, I believe you.” Her smile returned as she relaxed. “In that case…”

She fished around in her pocket, pulling out two tickets she won at the Theta-Kapa-Gamma Harvest Festival last week.

“Ta da~! Tickets to see the monster movie marathon at the old Monarch Theater on Saturday! You are free, aren’t you?”

Tim blinked as she practically shoved the tiny pieces of perforated paper in his face, fanning gleefully in invitation. Temptation.

“I am, but…”

He gulped, hesitating as he seemed to desperately search for an excuse.

“I’m… not really a fan of old films…”

He mumbled lamely, appearing extremely uneasy for some reason.

Oh crap. Don’t tell me I screwed up again.

Steph’s confidence sank in disappointment, recalling how she had once enthusiastically tried to engage Tim in a spontaneous water pistol fight going on in the campus courtyard (despite the season being somewhat ill-suited for the sport), having snuck up on him whilst the victim was reading unawares underneath the shade of a nearby tree, hitting him with a lighthearted squirt. He had sat there, stunned, as he stared at the childish toy weapon in her hand, before wiping his soaked cheek with the back of his sleeve. Slamming his book shut, he stated with such startlingly quiet, intense anger it took her aback:

“I don’t like guns.”

…Before standing up and stalking off in silence.

Still, she had hoped this would make up for it, that it could be something they’d both enjoy, spend some real quality time doing together (besides studying anyway, which she was starting to get sick and tired of as tests approached). Who didn’t care for a good old-fashioned camp scare around Halloween? …Maybe he just needed to give it a chance.

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘till you’ve tried it. Have you ever even seen Dracula or Frankenstein?”

He shook his head.

“Whaaat, you’re missing out on some classics! Come on, it’ll be fun. We’ve both been working so hard, we deserve a break. Cass has a pair of passes too, so she and Conner are going to be there as well. We can totes double together.” (Incidentally, it had been a little odd how her partner had been so fortunate as to receive the exact same prize at the booth’s trivia guessing game right after her, but she’d learned not to question Cassandra’s keen – if sometimes creepily uncanny – sense of intuition.)

Tim bit his lip, but acquiesced at her pleading puppy eyes, which shone with eager stars of anticipation.

“…Okay.”

“Great! It’s a date then.” She exclaimed excitedly as she handed him his half of the voucher.

“A… date.”

He repeated robotically, surveying the stub as if in disbelief.

“I’ll see you on Saturday then.”

She waved as she skipped off, emboldened by sweet success. In her jubilee, she accidentally ran straight into Conner as he coincidentally came round the corner, heading back to his room as well.

“Whoa, watch it there!”

He caught her just before she fell (unlike before, this sturdy target was obviously a lot harder to knock over), and she blushed a tinge as she felt his huge, strong arms wrap around her shoulder.

Man, what is it with me and bumping into hot guys recently? …Not that I’m complaining, mind.

She wasn’t sure whether to be overjoyed or embarrassed by this recurring situation, but settled for leaning towards the former. Conner, on the other hand, seemed a little less thrilled upon realizing the person in his grasp.

“Oh, it’s you. …Actually, good timing. I want to talk to you about Tim.”

He raised her up, but kept a firm grip on her collar as he drew her back round the bend. …It was almost a little painful, the amount of pressure his paw was putting on her petite stature. His countenance was severely solemn as he stooped forward to meet her level.

“…Look, I’m just gonna come right out and say it so you don’t get the wrong idea. Tim’s… ‘delicate’. I mean, really delicate.” He frowned, icy blue irises flaring dangerously as his dense, digging fingers deepened into the folds of her blouse, contracting and contacting to the bone. “You need to watch what you say and do around him. I swear, if you ever do anything intentionally to hurt him, I will never forgive you. You got that?”

She recoiled, reasoning he was likely referring to the gun stunt.

Is he… making a genuine threat?

Steph was somewhat scared now as his shadow loomed over her, backing her against the wall. She nodded meekly.

“U- understood.”

“Good.”

He released her, and she rubbed at the sore spot on her skin, wondering if it was going to leave a bruise. She was also starting to wonder what the heck Cass saw in this big dumb brute. He was admittedly attractive, sure, but personality-wise he was Tim’s complete opposite: loud, brash, obnoxious – not to mention arrogant – basically your stereotypical jock. And yet…

“You really care a lot about Tim, don’t you?”

Conner sniffed. “Of course I do. He’s my best friend.”

…’Friend’, huh?

The way he behaved seemed to go far beyond mere “friendship” though. He was almost acting like an overprotective guardian. …Or a possessive one.

“Could it be that you’re… jealous?”

“Me? Jealous? Of you?” Conner scoffed. “Why on earth would I be jealous? Just because you’re the one getting him to finally open up and trust you, participate in a bunch of social activities he never normally would, even though I’ve tried so hard to motivate him to be more outgoing over these past few years? To convince him to talk to me about his problems? To be the kind of stupid-ass cliché you huma- people find so damn popular just so no one else would dare to mess with him?”

He laughed like a bark, though it sounded slightly strained. Pained. Stephanie softened at such a display of devotion.

…Maybe he’s not such an oaf after all.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’ve done a lot more for him than you give yourself credit for. I’m sure he appreciates having you as a pal.”

She cautioned a comforting pat on his broad muscle.

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m trying to steal him away from you or anything. Besides, you’re doing the same thing for Cass, aren’t you? Trying to help her break out of her shell? Heck, I’ve noticed she’s been a lot more vocal ever since you two started seeing each other.”

Conner rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“You think? I mean, I guess you could say that. I dunno, it feels like I’m not really right for her… She’s so serious and deep, and – and next to her I feel like a total doofus most of the time…”

Stephanie couldn’t help but sympathize. They were a weird couple, to be sure, but then the same could easily be said about her and Tim.

“Hey, far be it from me to judge, but even if it doesn’t seem like you’re made for each other off the bat, I think you owe it to yourselves to try and explore those feelings at least. You never know, maybe it will work out.”

…It might’ve been her imagination, but the margins of his mouth seemed to twitch a bit at the word “made”. He coughed as he replied contritely though.

“Thanks. And, uh, sorry about being rough earlier.”

“It’s all right.” She smirked. “You were just defending your ‘delicate’ flower’s honor.”

A humiliated flush crept onto his visage.

“Oi, despite what you may have heard, it’s not like that.”

“It’s okay,” she giggled in understanding. “I feel the same way about Cass. …I suppose you could consider it even then?”

“Um… I suppose.” He looked confounded by the straightforward confession, but shrugged, not wanting to think too hard about it anymore, lest things get overly complicated. “So… We good then?”

She smiled.

“Yeah. We’re good.”

…

When the weekend rolled around, Stephanie dragged Cassandra clothes shopping before the big day, insisting on doing her hair and makeup as well. By the time they arrived at the cinema, the boys were already there waiting, checking their watches out in the cold. While she sheepishly apologized on both behalves for being “fashionably late”, Steph figured it was worth it when she saw their slack jaws at how much fashion had transformed them. The guys were dressed decently to impress as well, both sporting smart leather jackets (although Tim’s looked a size too big for him, and Conner still had on that ruddy black Superman T-shirt underneath that seemed like it came from a little kid’s closet).

She took the initiative in lining up with Tim to order snacks and soda, in the meantime telling the other two to go find four seats together. Luckily they didn’t have to wait long, as there didn’t seem to be many customers despite it being a Saturday. (To be fair those tickets were probably pretty cheap and undesirable to given away free at some college fest.) Although she kept chatting cheerfully to try and pass the time, her other company seemed even more uncomfortable than usual in the lightly crowded lobby, hardly able to carry a conversation – let alone the food – all the way to the viewing room. She began to worry if this had been a mistake to bring him here, and prayed the darkness and drama onscreen would at least be able to distract him enough to loosen up a little.

Cass and Conner had saved them two seats near the edge, and she sidled in next to her girlfriend (for moral support) while Tim took the one closest to the aisle. He kept glimpsing tensely around though, still just as jumpy as before.

“Hey, chill out a bit, will ya? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he muttered. “It’s just, in my experience, this is usually the part where the place catches fire, or some punks try to rob the box office, or…”

She stared at him, shaking her head.

“You fret too much. Just try to relax and enjoy, okay? Here, have some popcorn.”

He passed on the salted kernels though, and she pouted as she popped one in her mouth, chewing over whether she’d made the right decision after all. He looked almost claustrophobic, stressed. In distress.

Things didn’t improve much as the motion picture started to play. The first feature presentation in the lineup was indeed Frankenstein, and although Tim managed to remain relatively calm enough throughout the monochrome, monotone introduction, he started to stiffen at the famous “awakening” sequence.

“Quite a good scene, isn’t it? One man crazy, three very sane spectators.”

Out of the crook of her eye, Steph sensed her companion cringe every time there was a thunderclap, as lights flashed and machinery sparked with mounting electricity, while the movie madman merrily turned the wheel to “adjust the batteries”. Together, he and his assistant unrolled the cloth covering the table to expose a humanlike form strapped to it, albeit with limbs limp and lifeless. Tim’s claw clutched at his armrest as the stretcher was gradually lifted up through a hole in the ceiling towards the stormy sky, where pulses of galvanizing lightning presumably struck the subject repeatedly.

Stephanie divided concentration back and forth between the increasingly agitated boy beside her and the big screen in growing alarm as his breathing accelerated, gasping and wheezing audibly as he bent forward and put his hyperventilating head between his knees. Cass and Conner were casting concerned looks as well, while other annoyed audience members revolved around and shushed to keep it down. As her attention was arrested by the scientist maniacally screaming “It’s alive!” over and over again, she turned back one last time to ask if Tim was all right in a worried whisper – but there was no answer.

Tim was gone.

————————–

Oh Lord, whatever did I say? Whatever made me think that this was all okay? No one held me to the flame The hell if I could take the dark from my face

#TimSteph #Tim Drake #Timmy Todd #Stephanie Brown #Conner Kent #Cassandra Cain #Barbara Gordon #Batman the Animated Series #Batman Beyond #DCAU #Return of the Joker #fanfiction #starstories #*picks up all her gay kiddies and puts in a protective basket*

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frozenprocedural · 5 years

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TDOE, Day 10

Here it is! This one got longer than I expected, but I enjoyed writing it!

Alarik and Neta belong to @patricia-von-arundel.

Rating: T (some gore)

Earth Giants.

Gale was the first to alert Elsa of the man’s presence in the forest. She twirled through Nøkk’s legs- much to their annoyance- as Elsa rode out to patrol the Eastern border, whistling until Elsa asked Nøkk to stop.

Images flooded Elsa’s mind- a lean, gangly man with auburn hair walking into the camp, speaking to Honeymaren, Ráfi and Ryder. She guessed him to be Alarik, a scholar of magic whom Anna had written to Elsa about- he’d expressed an interest in visiting the forest for his studies. Alarik was left alone for a while, and something appeared to catch his attention. He started off into the woods, and the vision jumped, showing him with his eyes and mouth wide open as he looked around, walking along the edge of a familiar river lined with cliffs.

Not cliffs- Earth Giants. Sleeping Earth Giants.

Elsa sucked in a breath, turning Nøkk and spurring them into a gallop towards the river. Idiot, idiot man! What was he thinking? He had spoken to the Northuldra- Gale had shown her that- and they would have warned him about the dangers of entering the forest without a guide. Why had he gone out on his own? The Earth Giants had become far less temperamental ever since Elsa’s ascension to the Fifth Spirit, but they were still dangerous, particularly if woken during their daily naps.

“He’s going to get himself killed.” Elsa growled. She only hoped that she could get there in time.

……..

Alarik struggled to comprehend the scene around him. He’d certainly known that a place named the “Enchanted Forest” would be awe-inspiring, but seeing the forest in person put even his wildest imaginings to shame. His travels had taken him to countless forests, all with their own appreciable beauty, but none came even close to the one he stood in now. If it wasn’t such a ridiculous notion, he would even admit he could feel the magic thrumming through the very land itself.

As he made his way along the cliffs looming over the river below, Alarik couldn’t suppress the niggling worry that urged him to turn back to the Northuldra encampment and wait for a guide. The Northuldra leaders, while welcoming, had urged him to remain in the camp until someone could be found.

“The spirits can be unpredictable at the best of times,” the leader called Honeymaren explained. “Best to wait until someone can accompany you.” To his credit, he had tried waiting, but a burst of dancing flame had captured his attention. He wouldn’t go too far, and besides, he’d done his share of trekking through woods in his travels. He would be fine. Alarik didn’t realize how far he’d walked- shortly after leaving the camp boundaries, the flame had disappeared, but by then he was completely enraptured in the scenery surrounding him that he kept going, right up to the river where he now walked. As he peered at the rugged cliffs surrounding the rushing water, Alarik thought he could make out- was that a face?

“Fascinating,” he whispered, pulling out his journal and pencil. He’d heard of the Earth Giants before, but to see them was something else entirely. He found a nearby boulder and sat down, opening the journal to a blank page and beginning to sketch and diagram the phenomenon in front of him. While he was trying to get a detail of the Giant’s face, Alarik slid off the bolder, intending to get a closer look. His foot caught in a fissure he’d not noticed, and he pitched forward with a howl as a bolt of agony shot through his ankle.

Below him, the ground began to convulse, and Alarik immediately forgot about his ankle as the two dark craters snapped open and glared in his direction.

“Oh… oh no.” Alarik scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide. He stood, intending to run, only to have his ankle collapse beneath him. The giant worked its way to its feet with a tremendous roar, grabbing a boulder the size of a house. It brought its hand back, and all Alarik could do was watch as the stone came hurtling in his direction.

He did not expect for a gust of ice and snow to lift him from the ground and send him hurtling through the air, the boulder slamming to the spot he’d been lying on seconds later. The gust deposited him on the back of what he assumed was a horse- though it looked like no horse Alarik had ever seen. The creature was not one of hide and hair, but rather what looked, and felt, to be ice. He had little time to marvel, however, as a voice to his right called out, “Enough!”

Everything fell quiet, even the breeze. A figure stepped forward, and Alarik could not believe his eyes. A woman, dressed in clothing similar to the Northuldra’s, but nearly white in coloration, stepped forward, her pale hair flowing like a waterfall down her back. She strode forward with a straight back and regal posture, lifting a hand. The giant’s features softened, and it set down a second boulder before settling back into a reclining posture. Within seconds, the giant was asleep. The woman relaxed momentarily, then turned to pierce him with an icy glare, advancing with a straight back. Alarik swallowed. The woman in front of him could only be Elsa, the Fifth Spirit, and he had just put himself squarely on her bad side.

“What… were… you… thinking!?” Alarik couldn’t help but to shrink back at Elsa’s rage as she continued her advance. “No one should ever, ever go into these woods without a guide from Northuldra! Weren’t you told that!?”

“Yes, but-”

“No. No excuses. You were incredibly fortunate that I found you when I did, or that would have been your final resting place. The Giant thought you were an intruder! Now, I’m going to take you back to the camp, and you are going to stay at the camp unless one of us is with you, or I will send you back to Leisalla myself. Am. I. Clear!?”

Alarik could only nod. With a graceful movement, Elsa swung up behind him.

“Take us back, Nøkk.”

………

From the next several days, Alarik remained in the camp unless he was accompanied by a Northuldra villager. He stayed clear of Elsa during those days, as her contempt for him remained quite clear. He tried, multiple times to apologize, but each time he was met with a glare and a curt nod before Elsa left on her own.

A week after his misadventure, Honeymaren and her wife Ráfi were able to convince Elsa to accompany them and Alarik to the Earth Giant’s resting place to meet the Giant that had nearly killed him. Alarik, of course, had been extremely nervous to meet the spirit, but with Elsa translating- he learned that she was able to communicate with all the spirits through a series of images and feelings- the Giant eventually accepted Alarik, at least enough to tolerate his presence and understand that he was not there to harm anyone or anything within the forest.

After the meeting, and once the other spirits had a chance to meet Alarik, he was allowed to make short excursions in the forest by himself.

It was on one such foray on a particularly hot, humid day when Alarik heard a strange bawling noise. He followed the sound- more out of curiosity than anything else- to a steep, craggy hill. At first, he didn’t see anything, until a movement near the top of the hill drew his attention. It was Elsa, climbing with easy, nimble movements. Alarik followed the direction of her climb and was just able to make out the form of a reindeer calf stuck between two large stones- the source of the noise. Within seconds, Elsa was at the calf’s side, and with a few deft movements, she had pulled the calf loose. Alarik watched as Elsa slung the calf over her shoulders and began her descent. Just as he was about to leave, not wanting to face Elsa’s ire- even if she had seemed a bit less cold towards him- he heard the sound of rock falling free. He turned just in time to watch, helplessly, as Elsa slid and rolled down the hill, somehow maintaining her grip on the calf. As she fell, Alarik saw her leg catch on a thick branch. Her cry echoed throughout the forest, and when she finally rolled to a stop, she remained still, the calf on her shoulders bawling frantically.

“Elsa!” Alarik rushed forward even as he wondered what exactly he’d be able to do. As soon as he arrived by Elsa’s side, Alarik was relieved to see her chest rising and falling, and after a moment, her eyes fluttered open. His relief was short-lived when he saw Elsa’s left leg. A massive gash ran from her knee halfway down to her calf, and within the mass of blood and lacerated flesh, Alarik could see the white glint of bone. He swallowed back the gorge rising in his throat, struggling to keep his composure as he looked around, trying to come up with a plan. Elsa groaned, and stuck out her hand, a swirl of ice encompassing the wound.

“Wonderful,” Elsa grunted, examining the wound with a critical eye. The bleeding had stopped with the application of her ice, but Alarik could tell that the wound needed further attention.

“Can you walk?” Alarik asked, trying to mentally gauge the distance between their current position and the camp. They were maybe two kilometers out, from what he remembered, but could Elsa’s leg hold out until then? He noticed then that Elsa was not looking at the wound any more, but up at the sky. Alarik followed her gaze, and his heart dropped when he saw the dark thunderheads drawing near. Flashes of light illuminated the clouds’ underbellies, and Alarik knew that the storm would hit them before they could make it to the safety of the camp.

Elsa groaned once more, and formed two crutches of ice. Shaking, she worked herself to her feet, jerking her head in the direction of the reindeer calf. “I can’t carry her and walk at the same time. Just put her on your shoulders like I did- she’s used to it.” Alarik didn’t dare contest her order, but as he swung the calf over his shoulder- wincing when a hoof clipped his ear- he still saw no solution to their current predicament.

“I don’t think we’re going to make it to the camp in time.” Alarik spoke cautiously, not wanting to push his luck.

“We’re not.” Elsa’s voice was taut with pain. “There’s… a cave… not far… from here. We can make it… if we… move fast enough.”

“Are you going to be able to make it?”

“Going to have to.” Elsa limped forward, and Alarik had no choice but to follow.

……….

They arrived at the cave seconds before the storm broke, a tempest of rain and thunder that turned the world outside the cave entrance night-black. As they entered, Elsa explained that the cave was part of a system the Northuldra used for anyone, like them, who were too far from camp and needed temporary shelter. The cave was well-stocked with basic necessities- firewood, flint and steel, food, medical supplies, a few tools and even a small enclosure where Alarik placed the calf.The walk, while not far, had clearly pushed Elsa to her limits, and Alarik was grateful that his travels had taught him basic outdoorsmanship, particularly in starting a fire. By the time he had a good blaze going- placing a kettle of water over the flames- Elsa’s skin had taken on a sickly pallor, and a sheen of sweat covered her face. He approached her slowly, praying that he would be able to help.

“Elsa, may I please look at your leg? I was trained in field dressing during a stint in Scotland, and I have had to care for my own-”

“Fine.” The word came out as a hiss through gritted teeth, and Alarik couldn’t help but to pull back. However, Elsa stretched the leg in his direction, and said nothing as he drew closer.

“Can you remove the ice, please?” A wave of her hand, and the ice dissipated. Almost immediately, blood began to seep up in the wound, and Alarik reached for a wad of bandages, doing his best to staunch the flow. Even if Elsa iced the wound again, it would only serve as a temporary reprieve. Alarik could think of only one option.

“Elsa, I’m afraid your wound needs to be…” His throat tightened, and Alarik had to struggle to get the next word out. “…cauterized.”

Elsa’s head fell back as she groaned. “I was afraid of that. Alright, there should be a knife somewhere in the supplies. Go ahead and start heating that. Do you know what dried goldenseal looks like? Good, grab a handful and put it in the kettle. I’ll need to wash my hands before I do this.”

Alarik jerked his head around, unable to keep his mouth from falling open. “You can’t possibly be serious! Elsa, there’s no way you can do that on your own! I’ll take-”

“No.” Despite her evident exhaustion, Elsa’s refusal held an authoritative tone that made Alarik hesitate. “You’ll end up getting hurt- my powers are extremely difficult to control when I’m in pain. No, set everything up for me, and then get as far away as possible.” Her tone made it clear that she expected no arguments, but Alarik wouldn’t do so. Not this time.

“Elsa, please, hear me out.” He had to be careful- even in the short time he’d been staying in the forest, he had learned that if there was anything Elsa feared above all, it was losing control of her powers, even around him. “I know why you don’t want me near you if there’s a risk of you losing control, but you and I both know that this isn’t going to work as well, if at all if you attempt this on your own. Please, allow me to help you. We can figure out how to keep things safe for the both of us.” He fell silent for a moment, looking about the cave walls as he desperately sought inspiration for a solution. Wait… the walls.

“Elsa, the walls- can you direct your powers into them? If you can send them into the walls, it could be enough for me to finish the procedure without being harmed.” When he noticed her hesitation, Alarik reached forward before realizing what he was doing and pulled his hand back. “Can you try that?”

Elsa remained silent for so long that Alarik wondered if she had fallen unconscious, until she spoke.

“I will try. But I need you to promise me that if I tell you to go, you will go.“

Alarik nodded as he checked the knife blade- it was glowing red. "I promise.”

“No. Look at me. Promise it.” Elsa’s voice held a tense note, and when Alarik met her eyes, he thought he saw tears forming.

“I. Promise.”

Elsa gave a curt nod, dragging her sleeve across her eyes. Alarik turned away, giving her privacy, and pulled the steaming kettle of goldenseal off the fire, sitting back to let it cool enough to wash his hands. To his surprise, a layer of frost grew on the outside of the metal, and he caught Elsa’s half-smile.

“Sometimes it helps to have ice powers.” Alarik chuckled as he lowered his hands into the mixture, scrubbing thoroughly. When he had finished, he gave one last look at Elsa, whose smile had vanished.

“Are you ready?”

“No, but let’s get this over with.” Elsa braced her hands on the stone, fingers splayed, eyes screwed shut. As Alarik pulled the knife from the fire, she spoke again, her voice soft.

“Would you… would you talk to me?"

Alarik froze, unsure of what she wanted. "Talk to you?”

“Tell me about your travels, or what you’ve learned. Just… please give me something to focus on, other than… other than the pain.”

“Of course."

And so he talked. He started at the very beginning, his first visit to Oslo, as he pressed the blade to her flesh, fighting to keep his voice level as she threw back her head with a howl, ice spiking away from her hands. He spoke of his mishaps and friends as he guided the knife over the wound, recoiling at the awful smell, trying to move as quickly and thoroughly as possible. He spoke of his journeys to other countries as he packed and bandaged the wound. By the time he was finished, the ice had spread to the ceiling, dagger-like icicles hanging menacingly above them. Elsa’s eyes were glazed with pain, and her hands dropped from the walls as if they were weighed down with stones. Alarik kept an eye on her as he cleaned everything to the best of his ability. Finally, there was nothing else to be done, and he fell silent, letting the sounds of the storm fill the air between them.

Eventually, Elsa shifted to a more upright position. “Thank you.” Her voice was hoarse from screaming, and when Alarik looked at her, her eyes were shut tight, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “I… owe you.”

Alarik flushed. “You would have done the same.” He busied himself by pulling out his journal and pencil, finding a new page. He set the pencil to the page, but nothing came to mind.

Elsa remained quiet for several minutes, and Alarik wondered if she had fallen asleep. An idea came to him, and Alarik started sketching an outline.

“I suppose I would have.” Alarik looked up to see that Elsa’s eyes had opened again, but rather than looking at him, she was eyeing the ice dripping from the ceiling. He was relieved to see that her breathing had evened out, even more so when she was able to dissipate everything.

“Even if I’m an idiot who nearly gets himself crushed by an Earth Giant’s boulder?” The joke was a risk, and for a moment, Alarik feared he’d gone too far. He relaxed when Elsa’s lips lifted in a crooked smile.

“I suppose you ended up growing on me.”

Alarik stopped his sketching as something warm and pleasant bloomed in his chest. “Really!?”

“Yes. Like a fungus.”

Alarik threw back his head and laughed, and Elsa even managed a quick chuckle. They fell into silence for a while more.

“Alarik?”

“Hmmm?”

“I know the tent you’re sharing with Ryder is a little on the smaller side, and I’m sure space is tight with your supplies.”

Alarik lifted a shoulder. “It’s perfectly fine, really. I’m used to travelling light, and I’ve been in much smaller places. And Ryder is a nice man.”

Elsa wasn’t looking at him any longer, and he noticed a tinge of red was creeping up her neck. “I’m… I’m glad. But… if you’re interested, I do have plenty of room in my tent. The Northuldra really did make it much too large- I don’t use all the space, and I did bring some desks from Arendelle which you are welcome to use.”

Now it was Alarik’s turn to blush. “That is a very kind offer, Elsa, but I’m quite fine where I am. I don’t want to impose on you.”

“You wouldn’t be, I promise.” Elsa had turned away from him, and what Alarik could see on her face was unreadable. He wasn’t entirely sure about his own feelings on the matter- his thoughts were a confusing jumble.

“Will you… let me think on it?”

“Of course.”

Alarik returned to his sketching, and Elsa’s eyelids drooped, until he could hear her breathing grow deep and even. It took him a moment to realize that he could hear her breathing clearly because the storm outside had finally tapered off- they could return to the camp, and get Elsa further medical attention.

If she could make it.

“Elsa?” She sniffed and murmured as she woke, and Alarik was struck by just how sweet she looked. He quickly pushed the intrusive thought aside and indicated the calming weather outside the cave’s entrance. “The storm is letting up. We should probably get you back to the camp so that the healer can look at you. Can you walk, or do you want me to bring someone here?”

Elsa’s eyes closed once more, but it looked more that she was concentrating rather than falling asleep. After a moment, she looked at Alarik with a smile. “No need. We have help coming. Go ahead and douse the fire.”

Before Alarik could ask what Elsa meant, a low rumble filled the air and the cave began to shake. Seconds later, a massive face lowered itself to the cave’s entrance- an Earth Giant, and one Alarik thought he recognized.

“Is that…”

“The one who almost crushed you? Yes. Don’t worry, he’s alright with you.”

Alarik grunted, dousing the fire and making sure the ashes were sufficiently scattered. He went to pick up the reindeer calf, but noticed that Elsa was having difficulty standing. Alarik quickly removed his shirt and fashioned it into a sling, placing the calf within. He then offered his arm, and after a moment, Elsa grasped it and pulled herself up, leaning heavily on Alarik. Together, they made their way out of the cave and into the Giant’s waiting palm. As they settled in, Elsa leaned against him, and was soon asleep. Alarik moved the calf out of the way and pulled at his journal, opening it to his newest entry. His finished sketch showed Elsa, sleeping much as she was then, and the image brought a smile to his face.

………

Several days later, a stir rose through the camp as a royal wagon rolled up to the camp carrying Anna, Kristoff and baby Neta. Elsa, still limping slightly, rushed out to meet her family, and endured Anna’s chastising. Anna’s attention was quickly diverted when Alarik stepped out of Elsa’s tent as well- a grin working its way across her face.

“New tent-mate, Elsa?” Elsa stiffened and began a flustered series of excuses, until Anna eventually bumped Elsa’s shoulder and leaned over to meet the reindeer calf who ended up with the two of them.

“And what’s your name, little one?” Anna asked, scratching the calf under the chin.

“Beowulf,” Alarik said, rubbing the calf’s ears.

“That’s a female calf.” Kristoff pointed out, bouncing Neta in his arms.

“So?” Elsa and Alarik answered at the same time, and Anna’s grin grew.

“Look at you two, just like proud parents!” At that, both Alarik and Elsa flushed and stammered until Anna was doubled over with laughter. She yelped when Elsa sent a flurry of snow down her collar. Rolling her eyes, Elsa went over to retrieve Neta from Kristoff. She bounced the baby in her arms, chuckling when Neta reached out to tug on a strand of her hair.

As Alarik watched, he blinked in confusion. For a moment, he could have sworn that he had seen Elsa holding, not baby Neta, but a different baby with red hair- the same shade of his own.

#tdoe #tdoe 2019 #elsarik #alarik #elsa #Earth Giants #Neta #Anna #Shardsverse #shards of shards

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dougbeamer · 5 years

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Brightburn - Movie Review *Spoilers*

I saw this movie almost a month ago. I tried doing a video review for it several weeks ago and idk...nothing stuck. What I wanted to say just felt like it could be the same as everyone else. I just don’t think I’m gonna add anything new to the consensus.

But then I got thinking about it again for some reason I felt a desire to talk about it again.

So! Let's start with the plot and what this movie is about.

Brightburn is a film that came out in May of 2019 and tells the story of a family Tori and Kyle Breyer trying to have a kid. By a miraculous miracle, a spaceship crashlands on their farm and they adopt the baby boy inside naming him, Brandon. Many years later the family begins experiencing weird things with their now 12-year-old child. He sleepwalks to the barn where the ship he crashed landed in mumbling a strange language and trying to get inside.

Eventually, Brandon Breyer’s powers take effect and he starts using them to kill people rather than saving people. Brandon Breyer’s is on the full path to becoming a supervillain.

With the plot, in a nutshell, I can tell you there isn’t much more to it than that. If there is anything that I don’t like when making my reviews is explaining the plot. I know I need to in order to give everyone a heads up of what I am talking about but I never seem to talk about the plot specifically enough. I never actually describe it well. My store manager had an opportunity to see this film and said it pretty simply. “It’s like Superman meets Annabell”

While I never have seen Annabell it seems like an apt description. Annabell seems like a small film in scale and terrorizes folks who come close to it. The stakes are personal, intense and not much beyond what you are given. Of course, Superman is the spot on the comparison you can give because this film screams, “WE ARE SHOWING WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF SUPERMAN WENT EVIL!” as a concept piece.

Every time I think about this film the less I like about it.

I know there are some people out there that probably L-O-V-E this film and can’t wait to see what is next in this obvious start to a twisted franchise.

This film is basic. Very basic. Nothing more to it than a kid coming to his own with superpowers with his parents in denial of what he is capable of. The father is less in denial than the mother is who refuses to think her child is capable of such things.

At the beginning of this film, I actually loved it. The took just enough time to create the conflict between these two that they wanted a child. Just then their house is rocked by an earthquake and they proceed to check it out. It was mysterious, it was solid.

The rest of the film...not so much.

When I watch a film I lookout for a few things. One of them being dialogue, moments to establish the relationships as true, real and tangible, stakes that make sense no matter how much it derails the people involved, and above all else how the film constructs this. Bring it all together with enough pomp and circumstance to say we are functional.

To me, this movie is barely functional.

Dialogue is stiff. When people talk to one another it's so short and to the point that it feels like there is more than can be said. This may not be a legitimate critique but I do feel like the technique of talking is wasted here.

There was a scene where after Brandon crushed a girl's hand and the following scene the parents were all talking in the principal's office. The mother of the daughter was clearly upset and rightfully so. She was spouting this and that, “he should go to jail” and other justifiable remarks. Until...she talks about Brandon's real mother and calls her an inbred psycho. This obviously crosses a line as Tori simply states that if trash-talking a 12-year-old child helps erica sleep better at night maybe she is the one that needs help. After that, the scene wraps up and it's over. It's not without consequence, of course, but I feel that the scene was stunted with a lot of missed opportunities with dialogue. Instead of Erica overstepping her bounds and Tori putting her in her place within seconds of the scene ending I felt that should have been the biggest conflict in the scene. A longer more emotionally driven scene.

Granted I know the script has been flipped and instead of Brandon being the good guy he's bad. The parents are sticking up for him wrongfully but are on the side of good and Erica is in the middle. The scene conveys mixed emotions that I feel no one is good, no one really knows what to say or do. Brandon is not arrested, he is suspended and will have therapy there afterward and one simple insult closes this off and they move onto the next subject. With the knowledge of the looming fate, Erica will endure. I feel the scene should have been at least a few minutes longer where we are given a chance to really understand where other people are coming from. By this point, we know where Kyle and Teri are coming from but not Erica. She is actually smack dab in the middle of a situation she has to immediately respond to. Before that, she only was apart of Brandon’s birthday and saw him throw a temper-tantrum where the electronics around him went out. No speaking lines and that may be enough for her to call Brandon a psycho but allow me to point out...

There is an entire bit of backstory faded out to the prolonged stare Teri was making with her son Brandon. A lot of dialogue was muffled out do to her zoning out. They only time she snaps out of it is when insults are being thrown out towards Brandon and questions of who his real mother is.

That entire scene should have been insightful! Erica could still stay as the emotional mother who just hears and sees the aftermath of her daughter's hand crushed but we could have known at some point where she stood with the family, what kind of friends they were and some back history. Cause we just found out in that very moment more than just the family knows about Brandon’s adoption. That there in of itself leaves me to believe a lot has to be assumed in order to understand where everyone is coming from.

My mind goes to the phrase Expectations vs Reality. When I think about this movie there were a lot of expectations and when the reality hit we basically see what could have been opposed to what we got. Brightburn had a criticism that its full potential was not realized.

This is where I have to disagree.

Yes, I have to disagree.

We have had over 10 years of great storytelling and bad storytelling at our expense thanks to Marvel, DC, various TV shows throughout the last decade. We know exactly what we want in these types of films. So when we get a what-if concept there are only a few ways we can go with it.

Our expectations are seeing a complex take on the tale of Superman becoming evil and the reality is we see a kid who is being manipulated by a ship speaking an evil language. We don’t really see where the kid is coming from except for getting upset that he is different and was lied to for 12 years.

The reality is this is probably the best way to convey a what-if piece. Keep it Simple. Keep it just as grounded as it is right now. My biggest gripe is how everyone talks to one another. How the situations play out are almost perfect to convey such an excellent concept.

So sticking up for this film in this regard, it did exactly what it was setting out to do. Become a concept piece that would show the makings of a villain that was based on one of the most powerful superheroes we will ever know. In fictional terms of course.

The fact that it didn’t go in any direction we were really hoping it to is not a bad thing though. Sure maybe we could have seen the makings of a villain rise up and maybe the parents are in on it. Maybe the mother takes Brandon under her wing and teaches him to channel his evil tendencies towards people that deserve it much like dexter. Instead, Patricide and Matricide are inflicted, Uncles and Aunts are killed, and next-door neighbors are terrified in cliche fashion before they are horribly killed.

What really doesn’t make this film work for me is not really buying into the fact that this kid who seems well to do, not a single psychopathic bone in his body is suddenly turned when the spaceship he crashed landed in, activates.

The film does not do a good job giving us anything that could give us a clue into Brandon’s head. Is he being controlled? Is he acting out of rage? Well, the answer to that is yes and yes. But when? When are those moments? Because one scene he is going back to the girl (the one whos wrist was broken) and tells her that she is the ONLY person who knows how special he is.

One scene before it or after it I can’t remember which...shows him going into a rage as soon as he figures out what the alien message is saying to him. So he either had a small influence then took what he could and left the rest. Or he gets small doses of this throughout the time he first encountered it. Its really unclear.

One big thing is how people write off each weird happenstance throughout the story of the film. The father, Kyle believes Brandon got in and killed some chickens late at night. The best excuse Tori has is that a wolf opened up a locked door and killed some chickens.

I mean, the reasonings of what to talk about and what not to talk about is out of this world.

The parents find Brandon's secret stash of naked women that soon turn more grizzly where there are pictures of surgical diagrams and graphic photos of organs. Tori exclaims, “Maybe we should have the talk”

In the next scene, they go on a camping trip and the father and son have an awkward conversation about this. But the only thing mentioned was sexual urges and nothing more. DUDE, you found diagrams and organs! That is much more specific than showing off a desirable swimsuit model! TALK ABOUT THAT! This stuff gets pretty redundant after a while. You get it. Dialogue doesn’t work, the scenes and situations mentioned don’t add up when they need to talk about more important things, the relationship between the mother and father work but not with the kid, sadly.

I feel this movie did deliver upon its potential I just feel it could have been written better. I could care less that it was a cliche horror murder movie. Give me something basic and grow from there. You could have had the characters a lot smarter, capable, flesh out the scenes better and you would have had one solid film on your hands.

Perhaps I don’t have anything better to say than anyone else but this movie came close to frustrating me on how it presented itself.

The ending sparked more curiosity and obvious means to a sequel that I feel should have been introduced in the middle of the film. But, hey, that's just my expectations talking.

I know there are some out there that love the film. One who can justify actions and means of what really could have been going down. But I am a very literal person so if it ain't shown to me I am not going to assume so much happened in-between scenes. I am not a psychic so I don’t know what one is thinking and if you keep a kid quiet I won’t know where he is coming from.

That is exactly what this film did. It alienated me. Me no likey.

**/***** (2 out of 5)

#Brightburn #Brightburn movie review #Brightburn movie #Brandon Breyers #Tori Breyer

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