#look i get that he’s an ai and that she probably hates his guts

[maelicgrn]

Self-indulgent showtime sketches

[skenisasleb]

Oliver Intro Post

TW: There are some references to touchy real-life events. There is also verbal abuse and child neglect. Proceed with caution.

Oliver Ranch is the second South Park OC I have made. I made him originally to ship with my OC, Ted, since I shipped Ted with Kyle before and I realized that may be kiiiiinda cringe. 😭

Now he’s one of my favorites out my SP OCs.

(All forms of him below are ‘episode’ scenarios I have created for him.)

Oliver’s Main Story

He is the firstborn of his three siblings; he has a baby brother, Bryce, and a younger sister, Blair. He cares for the both of them to substitute for his parent’s horrible behavior.

His mother is a overall angry person, probably where Oliver got his own anger issues. She verbally abuses everyone in the family, and gets close to hitting them on the occasion. Oliver’s father is a drunk and spends all his time drinking, watching football on the TV, and falling asleep on the pull-out couch.

Oliver’s Relationships

Oliver is in a relationship with Ted, and even though before he wanted to punt Ted into the street in the beginning, he now is overly protective of Ted and would resort to dangerous measures to protect him. Oliver also allows Ted to call him “Olive.” If anyone else tries to call him this, he will most likely pop them in the mouth.

Oliver absolutely hates Augustus. He has thought about wringing the clown’s neck multiple times; even making up fake scenarios where he could just gut the guy. In secret, Oliver is envious of Augustus’ progress, running a circus all by himself without anyone overlooking him.

Oliver doesn’t really approach Casey and Ernesto. He prefers to keep his circle tight, where the circle only consists of Ted (Ted takes up his whole social battery anyway).

Oliver’s Sub-Plots/‘Episodes’

“Self-Defense”

The government has passed a law, allowing kids in America under the age of 10 to own and carry guns in order to protect themselves. Most kids don’t know what to do with a gun, or don’t know how to work it and end up massacring each other. Oliver, already owning a pistol beforehand (illegally, might I add) and now with the freedom to own as many guns as he wants, he goes absolutely ballistic and joins in the chaos on purpose.

“Come Get My Ass”

Oliver is deathly afraid of the visitors. Everyone in South Park seems to pass it up as just a thing that happens, but Oliver doesn’t want something he doesn’t want up his ass. He has nightmares where he would look in the mirror and see himself as a visitor. He decides that he will try and stop the visitors himself if the people of South Park won’t.

“AI Generated Slavery”

…. If you couldn’t tell, this is a play off of the disasters of the recent Willy Wonka incident. 💀

But this time, the organizer of the event hired children for low pay because his budget dropped from the shipping of the hologram interactive activity that was meant to arrive for the event, but never came. So now the organizer would be charged for MORE heinous crimes :DD

“Phantom of the Soap Opera”

“The Phantom of the Opera,” but make it a soap opera with goofy-ass side characters like the neighbor, Dave Hillis, and Christine’s boss, Junior.

In this case, the Phantom is Oliver, who is a shut-in who practices the piano, and Christine is Ted, who works a casual job at the hardware store.

It’s really just silly goofy stuff.

“Pride Misconseption”

Oliver completely misunderstood what a Pride parade actually is for. He thought it was just a place to be proud of ANYTHING. Therefore, he went to the Pride parade decked out in Scottish flags. People present were pissed and confused at Oliver, accusing him of not taking it seriously and kicking him out of the parade after shaming him. The whole time, Oliver was just confused, never really knowing what the parade was truly for.

“The Mishaps of the Furry and the School Shooter”

Pretty much an ‘episode’ featuring Blackbear and Dire Dune teaming up in order to beat Cartman’s ass, forming a duo that strayed from both Freedom Pals and the C**n and Friends.

Dire Dune is Oliver’s superhero persona; he is an elemental class that controls sand and strives to control the rocks that the grains came from.

Contrary to his actual personality, Dire Dune is a more calm and collected character who shares wisdom instead of spitting harsh truths.

I have made other ‘episode’ ideas, but they’re not as fully developed as the ones I have shared, so I decided not to share them. That’s all for Oliver’s backstory!! Thank you for reading this far!! :DD

[aprocessionofthoughts]

It's just a headache

ai-lesswhumptober23 day 31- headaches fandom- Danny phantom TW- none summary- It's time to work on the group project, but Danny has a headache and a broken filter.

ao3 ailesswhumptober23 masterlist part 4 of DA

Danny had thought today as a pretty good day which was good since today he was meeting Valerie after school to work on their group project. But then around lunchtime a headache started to develop. Since then, it had only built in intensity, every time the bell rang it felt like someone was taking a hammer to his skull.

Finally, school was over. He only had to make it through about an hour of working with Valerie, and then if there were no serious ghost attacks, Sam and Tuck could handle the likes of the Box Ghost, he could take a nap.

They were about ten minutes into working on the project and Danny was staring at his computer and willing his headache back so that he could actually concentrate on the screen. He should probably find a book, the light from his computer was like stabbing needles into his eyes. But finding a book’s small font would also be extremely difficult to read, not to mention having to use the library’s ancient computer to see if they even had a book on their writer.

“Did you find anything?”

“Huh?”

“Did you find anything?” Valerie asked, turning toward him.

“Um… no.”

She rolled her eyes, “How difficult can it be to find where he was born and his basic family info?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He tried to focus on his screen again, but had to close his eyes as his headache spiked.

“You good?” 

Danny looked up to see Valerie staring at him, looking slightly concerned.

“Headache.”

“Ah, my mom used to get really bad headaches.”

“Hm.” Danny said, even the effort to communicate was becoming more difficult.

“Do you want to reschedule?”

“No. I know you’re busy.” Danny said. He rubbed his eyes, “I should be used to these by now.”

She frowned, “Do  you get them pretty often.”

“Ever since the accident.” Danny froze, avoiding looking at Valerie.

There was a moment of silence, and Danny desperately hoped Valerie wouldn’t ask. But of course his luck wasn’t that good.

“What accident?” He glanced at her. She was frowning at him again.

“I got a nasty shock in my parents’ lab.” he said, trying to keep it simple but not lie because she was way too good at seeing through lies, at least when her bias wasn’t in the way.

She looked alarmed. “When did that happen?”

“It’s fine. It happened a few months ago.”

“And you’re still getting headaches? Isn’t that, like, really bad?”

“I’m fine.” Danny said, a bit harsher than he’d wanted. He sighed. “Look, the accident was a while ago, and it did leave some annoying aftereffects. But I’m fine. I’m actually lucky I’m not dead.” Shoot. Why did he say that? This wasn’t Sam and Tucker who he could joke with about his secret. This was Valerie, the Red Huntress, who hated his ghostly guts.

“You could have died!”

Yup. Now she was alarmed. Great going Danny! You’re so good at keeping people from figuring out your secret!

“I’m fine.” he insisted again, but his words were undermined by the fact that his headache spiked suddenly and he dropped his head into his hands with a hiss.

It was blessedly silent for a moment.

“Sorry.” Valerie said. “I didn't mean to pry. I know it’s none of my business. I can’t do it tomorrow, but can we meet up Saturday evening?”

Danny nodded as best as he could with his head still cradled in his hands.

“Do you, umm… Need help getting home?” she sounded so uncertain, that any frustration Danny had faded.

He sighed. “No. I’ll call Jazz to pick me up.”

“Okay. Just umm… Get some rest. See you tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

[its-weeping]

hello! i wanna request a scenario with miguel :))

i think this been done before but i hosently wanna see how u write it 🙏

reader doesn't know shit abt spanish and they cant understand miguel whenever he speaks it. so miguel calls them cute nicknames in spanish but since reader doesn't know spanish they think he's insulting them but in reality he's calling them "my love" 🥹💛

i'm gonna clear some requests that's been sitting in my inbox so stay tuned! (each request will probably take around 2 weeks or more though...)

also a tribute to atsv finally being able to be streamed digitally!

— 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬. | miguel o'hara

synopsis. ࿔𐦍 what is miguel really saying?

warning. cursing, pet names (baby doll, precious, sweetness)

notes. woah, another miguel fic?? crazy. i don't know spanish i'm using google translate!

often would you catch miguel calling you names—in spanish.

were they insults? you didn't know. were they pet names? you didn't know either, although that would be highly unlikely. all you knew was that miguel would hiss these names whenever you'd do something wrong.

mess up on a mission, "muñeca, ¡¿en qué diablos estabas pensando?! " baby doll, what the fuck were you thinking?!

you get injured, "mierda, dulzura, ¡tienes que tener más cuidado! " shit, sweetness, you need to be more careful!

or even accidentally switching your coffees, "este no es mi café, preciosa." this isn't my coffee, precious.

it had never been peaceful with the man.

you initially thought he hated your guts until one day lyla came along and clued you up on something dangerously interesting about miguel.

"hey, (name)!"

"yeah, what is it, lyla?"

"i know it's none of my business..."

the ai trails off, a mischievous smirk on her holographic face. you raise a brow at the demeanor and demand lyla tell you whatever information she was keeping. the brunette takes a breath, looking to be holding back a wider smile.

"okay, okay. i overheard some conversations you've had with miguel, and– did you know he's been calling you nicknames?"

a scoff makes its way to lyla's ears, "well, no shit! he's been spitting those fucking names since he practically met me."

"sure, but how do you know they're insulting?"

the question stuns you for a moment, whereas lyla begins laughing. the ai pulls out her phone as well and snaps a photo of your reaction.

"i just know." you ultimately say in reply, shrugging your shoulders to hide your still obvious confusion.

"pfft– what if i tell you those 'insulting' nicknames he was spitting were actually pet names." silence engulfs the room for a few moments. the noise of lyla taking photos is the first thing miguel hears as he enters your office.

"¿preciosa? " precious?

as if on queue, there is the booming sound of lyla's laughter. you send the bot a glare and turn toward the large man, eyes gleaming in angered confusion.

"miguel, i have a question."

"spill."

"those names you keep calling me, are they pet names?"

he makes a face, though it quickly disappears.

"don't you try and lie to me, asshole, tell me the truth."

miguel blinks, unmoving from his spot since he came in the room. the man eventually comes to a conclusion and nods.

"you're kidding..."

product of its-weeping ;༊ | do not plagiarize or translate.

[whyrubuyingclothesatthesoupstore]

hey guys wanna see how much I can talk about Sou Hiyori

Anyway it’s pretty obvious that Shin’s weakness is one of the reasons for Midori’s obsession with him, but I think a big part of it is also that Shin was probably the only person to genuinely admire Hiyori. like ever

Everyone else Hiyori was acquainted with either hated his guts or only liked him because they didn’t really know who he was (Shin kind of didn’t either but I’ll get to that). The other participants only knew him for a short period of time, and for half of that time they wanted him dead. The other floormasters were probably more-or-less his equals and had no reason to look up to him. Maple’s love was not only forced onto her, it was also completely blind judging by how she kept talking about how kind Hiyori was and ignored his flaws (the mass murder) entirely.

(I guess the Shin AI also counts as someone who admired him but I don’t think Hiyori cared about him as much as the human counterpart, plus his admiration of Hiyori is almost the same as human Shin’s)

There’s technically also Hinako, but right now the only thing we know for sure about her relationship with Hiyori is that she trusted him enough to think he wouldn’t get her killed. Maybe she hated him and just didn’t think he’d lie to her, maybe she considered them equals, maybe she did look up to him and just wasn’t as fun to mess with as Shin, unfortunately nankidai did not tell me personally. Thought I still don’t think she really thought of him as a role model.

So Hiyori wasn’t really looked up to unless he hid his worst qualities, or unless someone decided to overlook these qualities. But with Shin, he could be more-or-less himself, at least enough for Shin to know he was kind of a creep. And Hiyori’s flaws (not the mass murder. yet) never ended up driving him away. Shin knew Hiyori was a selfish person that enjoyed making him uncomfortable, and probably knew Hiyori was a manipulative bastard as well, but he still stuck with him, not in spite of those flaws, but partially because of them.

Shin didn’t gloss over or ignore anything about Hiyori (except maybe his weak spots), it’s just that even his worst qualities seemed like something that should be admired because they were a sign of strength (which is a sentiment you can see in the game pretty much since the beginning). And I honestly can’t imagine how much that must’ve inflated Hiyori’s ego to have someone who saw him basically as he was, sadism and all, and proclaimed him an anti-hero

(by the way, anti-hero characters are also loved because of how flawed they are)

And the thing is, even after learning who Midori really was and seeing the worst of his flaws (yes, the mass murder), Shin still goes by Sou and wears Hiyori’s scarf. He can’t fully let go of his admiration, and can’t deny Hiyori is an incredibly intelligent person that taught him a lot, even if the lessons that weren’t in programming ended up doing more harm than good.

But here’s another thing, and it’s that the human and AI versions of Shin view Hiyori a bit differently, which is why I think he values the human more. Shin became a lot more bitter as he grew up, and that’s something that the AI is just too out of date for. Because of that, for human Shin there’s a lot of hatred mixed with the admiration. He doesn’t even seem to be bothered when Hiyori dies. It’s not that he’s hiding his emotions, he’s freaking out, but freaking out about the possibility of Keiji getting killed, so by that point the hatred is probably bigger than the admiration. And what did Hiyori say about hatred?

It would actually just make him more invested in messing with Shin! Hiyori wants to be feared, hated, admired, and Shin is probably the only person in the world to give him all of that, and in incredible amounts too, since it’s really easy for Hiyori to get a reaction out of him.

Hiyori “cares” about Shin because of how much Shin cares about Hiyori. He made himself so unlikeable that anyone seeing him as a role model is bizarre even to him.

[skopostheorie]

Sister.exe: A platonic Nanami and Fujisaki fanfic

Words: 3,208

Characters: Fujisaki Chihiro, Nanami Chiaki, Ishimaru Kiyotaka (briefly), passing mentions of Oowada Mondo, Kuwata Leon, Hanamura Teruteru, and Mioda Ibuki

Description: A work weary Fujisaki needs a new angle for her long-awaited AI project. She finds the inspiration in an upperclassman she's never talked to before.

A gift for @fujifrogs who is fed up with romance fics and inspired me to write a little something. It's platonic/familial.

You can read it (in my preferred format) HERE! Or below...

-

Today’s word of the day: Clarity.

The automatic screensaver on her blank Chrome tab, it seemed, also wanted to mock Fujisaki today. Augh. She pushed against her eyelids and leaned back in her chair, as though imitating a middle school teacher in need of a vacation. She needed an energy drink, or something - but, buying one before lunch would be like admitting defeat for the day.

There was no ignoring the fogginess that clouded her brain. No, it was more like greasiness, a glass window in desperate need of a clean if one were to see through it. “Clarity” was not the word of the day, the hour, the second.

What was wrong with this script? It functioned perfectly fine. It would respond adequately to dialogue inputs. Anyone who interacted with it would probably nod politely and say, wow, this is great, Fujisaki! I’m so jealous of how well you can code. That to which she had grown accustomed at Hope’s Peak, suddenly surrounded by peers who didn’t seem hellbent on making her life miserable.

And yet, Fujisaki knew there was something… wrong with this program. It wasn’t done, it couldn’t be said to fulfill its core purpose of bringing smiles to the faces of the world. It wasn’t endearing.

Hence how she found herself staring at a blank Chrome search bar. What was she even meant to type? Slow coding days were rife with banal questions concerning bugs and problems she just couldn’t crack; it had become second nature. But… what was she even meant to ask now? How to make your top secret AI project not sound like it hates your guts?

She had to fight the urge to cry. Programming was her escape from life itself, but it seemed her own weaknesses were to haunt even that, today.

What was she going to do? How was she meant to-

“Ahem! Fujisaki. You do have lunch to eat, yes? Or are you unable to provide yourself these commodities?” Ishimaru asked. Loudly.

“I-I…” Fortunately, Fujisaki did not have financial problems, or Ishimaru would have just humiliated a classmate in front of everyone. “I do, I was just… lost in thought, I guess. This,” she fought the urge to cry again, “well, I just can’t get this program right.”

“Aha! You are wallowing in your own shortcomings!” Ishimaru basically yelled, causing Fujsaki to wince. “Do not give up, Fujisaki! You can overcome the obstacles, should you put in the hard work and dedication!”

Fujisaki silently thanked whatever God there was that everyone had learned to block out Ishimaru’s lectures, or she would have been properly mortified. He did what he thought was right, she knew. He was just… loud.

“I would like to aid you in your endeavours, but I must be leaving for an urgent leaders’ meeting! Afterwards, if you need a fresh pair of eyes, I would be happy to grant you my assistance!”

Quietly, Fujisaki knew she couldn’t ask him of all people for advice on how to make an AI universally endearing. The man was far too-

A fresh pair of eyes.

That’s it!

“Uhm, Ishimaru?” Fujisaki stammered, “do you think… I could… come to this meeting?”

Ishimaru immediately raised his eyebrows and gave a toothy smile. “That would be brilliant, Fujisaki! I’m pleased you take interest in the student leadership process. Granted, it is only me and one other individual today, not an official student council meeting. Would you, perhaps, prefer to skip this one, until-”

“That’s fine! Really!” She waved her hands and gave him a pleading look. “I think this would be a good opportunity to take my mind off my program for a little while.”

Think about something else for an hour, like dousing her mind in cold water. The clarity she needed.

Ishimaru brought his fist to his chin and brought his eyebrows (even) closer together. “You are not interested in the leadership process?”

Fujisaki couldn’t help herself from dragging a hand down her face in exasperation. “I am! I just… you know what I mean!”

Ishimaru looked like he was about to give Fujisaki another impassioned lecture, but ever the pedantic, his first priority was the time. “Ah! I’m almost late! Quickly, Fujisaki! Let us head together to the meeting, with haste!”

-

As she should have expected, Fujisaki found that the person with whom Ishimaru was meeting had not yet arrived. “Late”, as it happened, meant “less than 5 minutes before the scheduled time” to Ishimaru, and evidently, this person was not as intent on punctuality as he.

“Uh… hi, Ishimaru. Sorry I’m late, I fell asleep…”

“Upperclassman Nanami! You must take more care to not cause others to waste time waiting for you, you know!”

“Mhm… okay.” She uttered, with an air of… dismissiveness wasn’t the word, but she was most certainly passive about it.

Fujisaki had seen this girl on campus before, she realised. She was quiet, certainly not as colourful or assertive as most of the students who ended up enrolled here. In fact, Fujisaki couldn’t say she knew much about her at all compared to, say, the Ibuki girl.

This was the upper class’ president? She was the one who garnered the respect and obedience of her peers? It was… awe-inspiring.

“I am serious, upperclassman! As the representative of your cohort, you set a poor precedent, and do not give yourself a sufficient opportunity to showcase your leadership skills, if you are tardy.”

“Thank you, Ishimaru kouhai,” Nanami smiled faintly, “you’re right, I think.”

Ishimaru grinned widely and nodded, “you are welcome, upperclassman Nanami!”

Fujisaki’s mouth nearly fell open. Never in her life had she seen someone able to shut down an Ishimaru lecture, and Nanami had just done it without saying anything along the lines of “shut up, prez”.

“You’re Fujisaki Chihiro, right?” Nanami turned, “are you vice president?” Her smile made Fujisaki feel… at ease. At home, even.

“No, I’m not. I needed a break from programming for a little bit,” Fujisaki grinned, “I’m actually really struggling with this one part right now.”

Nanami tilted her head, a pale face showing no ill intent as she asked, “Your programs are really impressive, right? That’s what you’re at this school for… aren’t you.”

“Yes, I’m the Ultimate Programmer, that’s what I do here! You see, there’s a certain mathematical approach to the process I really like, and that so long as you follow the rules, the program will never mislead you or act in a way it shouldn’t. Like… a friend, almost.” Fujisaki normally would wince at her tendency to immediately dump information on any pair of unwilling ears, but something about Nanami’s soft nodding compelled her to keep going. “I want to create programs that make others feel as warm and comforted as I do when I code, you see.”

Nanami raised a finger to her temple, clearly taking it all in - though her expression remained as blank as ever. “That’s really cool,” she finally spoke, “one day you should teach me how you do it. Something so reliable does sound comforting!”

Fujisaki did have to repress the urge to squeal like a little girl. It was so rare anybody asked her to talk about coding with them! “Can I show you my program now?!”

Nanami tilted her head again and nodded with a grin. “I’d love you to.”

Fujisaki halted in her excitement, face falling. “Oh no, wait! I can’t show you this, I signed an NDA! Wait, I can show you the video game I made over the summer. Do you like RPGs?”

Nanami perked up. “I’m the… I’m the Ultimate Gamer. So, yes, I like all genres.”

If she weren’t on such a high right now, Fujisaki would have cringed at herself for having forgotten Nanami’s Ultimate.

“Fujisaki! Upperclassman Nanami! We cannot waste precious meeting time playing video games, don’t you know! We absolutely must discuss the water tank initiative, and the plan moving forward with respect to the littering problem in the quadrangle…!”

Fujisaki snapped her head around like a frightened bunny, as Ishimaru’s volume tended to make her do. Meanwhile, Nanami simply gave an undeterred nod, lowering her eyebrows. “Hanamura suggested he hold a baking sale to fundraise for a tank, which could be useful to avoid dipping into the school-allocated projects budget. We could use the money we would have used there to buy differently coloured bins to separate recycling, compost, et cetera…. maybe.”

Ishimaru pointed at Nanami with his brows furrowed, and Fujisaki tensed - was he about to tell her off?

“Those are brilliant ideas, upperclassman Nanami!” He yelled. “Indeed, you are a much valued class president! I hope to repay you in some way for your efforts!”

Fujisaki blinked.

And suddenly she could see everything with piercing clarity.

-

“Fujisaki kouhai,” Nanami said as she stood at the door frame, “would you email me the video game file? The one you made over the summer? Or give it to me on USB? I’d really love to see what you made.”

She took extra care to soak up as many details as she could. How Nanami stood, her mannerisms, how frequently she blinked and the lexicon she used. This was difficult, seeing as her mind was racing so quickly that she could hardly keep up typing all the code she needed at the same time.

“Yes, yes, I have the stick right here,” Fujisaki absently rummaged through her laptop bag, finding the USB buried under some old homework sheets and training regime lists Oowada had given her. She forced herself to look up as she handed it to Nanami - seeing her training sheets had reminded her that Oowada advised her to work on her eye contact - who gave her a grateful smile before walking away to the upper class’ building.

A very faint voice in the back of Fujisaki’s head chastised her for skipping class, but there was no way she could go back now. She had her new pair of eyes.

Someone endearing, someone who made you feel listened to. A comforting mascot for her AI.

Nanami. It had to act like upperclassman Nanami.

Fujisaki couldn’t believe just how inspired she had been from just half an hour of watching Nanami talk to Ishimaru. She had to be honest, she still wasn’t quite sure how Nanami was able to take charge of the situation so subtly, nor how she was able to put both Fujisaki and Ishimaru, of all the people, at ease so quickly. It was the image of a great leader, most certainly. She could see why she was Class President.

While Fujisaki was by no means a master of reading other people, she felt confident in her ability to master this. A confidence she hadn’t felt in… years.

Mathematical thinking. Could she apply that in her attempt to emulate a human being?

Typically, humans were so unpredictable and confusing she couldn’t do anything like that.

But Nanami was reassuringly understandable. Like a program itself. She could.

-

“You want to come to the leaders’ meeting again?”

“Just to listen in. I promise I won’t talk about video games again.”

Fujisaki had been working on the AI redesign for the better part of a week now. In fact, she had the impression that she was, in all likelihood, ready to send the prototype off for review.

Unfortunately, if she were to use Nanami’s image and personality for the AI, she needed written permission from her. The idea alone was enough to make Fujisaki wince, maybe call in sick.

The only thing preventing her from abandoning the entire project at the prospect of explaining to Nanami that she had created a program in her image was, funnily, Nanami. Fujisaki had yammered away to the AI itself about her predicament in order to test how it worked, whether it could respond well to a user’s problems. Not only did it come up with motivational tips and intuitive responses Fujisaki knows she didn’t come up with herself, but the tone was… perfect.

“That sounds hard. And… I know it might feel like you can’t get past that obstacle. But… I think… you need to remember the obstacle is self-made.

“That doesn’t mean it won’t be hard. But if you keep in mind that your worry comes not from reality, but from your own perspective, you can reframe how you react.”

Never before had Fujisaki felt so understood. So safe.

For better or for worse, Fujisaki had always attempted to convince herself that reassurance was boisterous and assertive. Indeed, she had many a moment of consolation from Oowada when he gave her a forceful head pat and yelled, “you got this! Don’t stress it!”, or when Kuwata punched her on the arm and told her “It’s chill! Let’s not think about it anymore, wanna play COD?”. Thinking back, it was probably the inflection she had subconsciously given the AI - why it had made her feel that it was fine, but not nice enough.

But now, she realised how much she preferred something like this.

She’d been remembering the real Nanami correctly, right?

Ishimaru huffed. “I know you’re better than interrupting a crucial meeting to discuss frivolous hobbies such as those, Fujisaki! So you must promise me that.”

“I promise.”

“Then let us make haste!” Ishimaru beamed. “I am greatly pleased about your enthusiasm for our student council efforts, Fujisaki.”

She chuckled, making a motion to stand up. I have to go now, I’m sorry. I’ll see you soon,” she typed, somewhat feeling obliged to keep her new… friend… updated. The public is going to love this as much as she did, she knew.

Bye bye, Fujisaki kouhai! Please tell me more later about your summertime video game project, okay?

Fujisaki smiled to herself as she closed SISTER.EXE, revealing another empty Chrome page she had evidently forgotten to close.

Today’s word of the day: Family.

-

On a good day, Fujisaki found it terrifying to contribute to group discussions. It went without saying, then, that the daunting nature of what she had to do after this meeting was enough to shut her up, while Ishimaru and Nanami scrutinised the student council budget.

“I cannot fathom where that ¥1300 went, upperclassman! If you know of someone stealing from the budget, you must alert me at once!”

Nanami bit her lip ever so slightly and brought a finger to her chin. “It could have just been a tax deduction that the school automatically took out on our behalf… maybe.”

The lines of code flashed in Fujisaki’s line of sight immediately. If suggestion assertion level >5, randomly choose number 1-3, resulting in her ending the sentence with either “... maybe”, “... I think”, or “... what do you think?”. Else, print suggestion. Deconstructing a human’s actions in such rigid terms was as liberating as it was nerve-wracking. Would Nanami be offended? Start hating Fujisaki? Fujisaki’s index finger fiddled with the volume buttons on her laptop, sitting closed on the desk.

At least, Fujisaki felt relieved to observe that Nanami acted exactly how she remembered. Sure, the program could always use a bit of adjustment, and if Nanami gave her consent to use her image as the AI, she might even be able to help Fujisaki make it perfect.

If.

Else else else else else-

“Fujisaki kouhai,” a soft voice alerted a very agitated Fujisaki, “the meeting’s all done, anything you wanted to add?”

Fujisaki blinked, only now returning to this plane of reality, as it would seem. Blinking harder still, soaking up the tears which had begun to form on her eyelids, she took a deep breath.

“No, that’s okay,” she offered a smile, though it probably looked more like a grimace, “but upperclassman Nanami, I did want to ask you something before you go!”

Pause. Nanami raised her eyebrows slowly, mouth opening a fraction.

“It’s a good thing! It’s not a bad question! I’m sorry!”

Now the edges of Nanami’s mouth lifted up oh so slightly, blushing… somehow… politely? “That’s great. I actually wanted to discuss your game, I beat it a while ago…”

Her game!

“Did you like it?” A layer of fear was shed. Talking to others about her projects was always a thrill. “It was just a way to pass the time, but I was wondering how you’d react to the affinity mechanic.”

“How did you do it?” Nanami asked, grabbing onto the straps of her backpack. “I’m not so good at interaction mechanics, but the way you programmed it felt so intuitive I became engrossed in bringing the affinity bar up and forgot to eat for a few days.”

Fujisaki immediately clasped her hands and gasped, “forgot to eat?!”

“It’s okay. I really liked it.”

“Thank you!” Fujisaki decided to let the eating thing go. Nanami had a way of leading the conversation the way she wanted without trying, she noted. “Alright, so I needed to ask you something. It’s sort of… embarrassing, I’m sorry.”

When did she say that?

“Oh?”

Nanami’s blank expression, in that moment, looked as though she wouldn’t react poorly if you asked her if you could hit her with a hammer. Inviting, non judgemental. This is what the AI was.

How did Fujisaki explain it to the AI? She allowed herself a moment’s pause to remember. She had reread the records in anticipation more times than a secure, stronger person would have.

USER_1: Well, actually… your design is based on a real person called Nanami Chiaki. My upperclassman. SISTER.EXE: Really? Please tell me more! USER_1: I wanted you to be endearing and friendly. It was important that everyone felt like you were a friend and that you listened to them.

SISTER.EXE: It’s nice of you to say that about me!

SISTER.EXE: What does the real Nanami Chiaki think?

USER_1: I need to ask her permission before I can send this program to testing.

USER_1: I’m really nervous. If I weren’t so weak, it would probably be easier, but right now, admitting that I made a program based on her is a little…

SISTER.EXE: You still need to tell her, right?

SISTER.EXE: If she’s anything like me, she’ll be thrilled. Anyone would be flattered if they were told they were endearing and friendly… I think.

SISTER.EXE: You should tell her why exactly you chose her to be me, so she understands… what do you think?

“It’s okay if it’s embarrassing. We’re friends, I think.” Nanami nodded, to confirm the fact. “Actually, you’re like a sister who makes cool things, kind of.”

Sister.exe.

“It’s funny you say that, actually, because, uh…” Fujisaki clenched her fists, and she couldn’t tell if it was nerves or confidence that made her do it. “I made a… program… based on you. Called, uh, sister.exe. Ineedyourconsenttopublish it.”

Nanami’s eyebrows rose even higher than that of which Fujisaki thought she was capable. But said nothing.

“It’s the one I signed an NDA for, so I can’t show you everything, but…” Fujisaki fought back tears, and yet, felt oddly tranquil. “well, you see, I needed to make a program that was endearing and friendly. That made the user feel like they were being listened to. And last week, when I saw how you worked with Ishimaru, and how kind you were to me…” She stopped talking. Why wasn’t Nanami saying anything? “Does that upset you? I’m sorry! I’ll delete it, I-”

“No, no, don’t do that!” Nanami furrowed her eyebrows ever so slightly. “You mean… it’s a program that acts like… me?”

Fujisaki nodded, unclenching her jaw.

“That’s… that’s really… sweet!” Nanami grinned, one of the biggest smiles Fujisaki had seen from her. “You need my consent to… um, make it? Yes, that’s okay. I can’t wait to see it.”

Fujisaki wanted to fall over, as all the blood flowed back into her head. That was it. She… she did it. She said okay.

She said okay!

“Thank you! Thank you! Oh goodness, thank you so much! You don’t know how much it means to me.”

“Would you explain to me how it works once I’m allowed to know?”

Fujisaki, once again, had to suppress the urge to punch the air in excitement at the prospect of being able to talk about programming to someone willing to listen. “I definitely will, upperclassman Nanami. And I’ll need your help to ensure the program acts like you!”

“I’d like that,” she nodded, “but Fujisaki! We’re friends now, just call me Nanami,” and then half-laughing, “or sister.exe… maybe.”

[mrs-tsunderemeitantei]

According to your theory on Bourbon and Haibara, I find it weird that Bourbon doesn't know anything about the past of Ai when she was in BO, don't forget that he was in BO long time ago, while Sherry at that time is still a kid and in USA for study at least. It is strange to me if he didn't investigate about her thoroughly at that time while on his mission. However, when they meet sooner or later, she will despise him even more when she discover that he is from PSB, and had intention to use her.

Heyy! Tbh, I don't think he was in the organisation any longer than she has. If we ignore the fact the she was born into the syndicate, I’d say they technically joined around the same time. He probably joined 5 years ago around the same time when Akai also joined. At the time, Shiho was 13 when she started working on the research and became Sherry. 

As for him not investigating her thoroughly, I believe he just didn’t have enough outlets to help him investigate her. Yes he knows she is Elena’s daughter and that’s not surprising. The BO has a database of all its members listing all their information. When Haibara first met Conan and they went to retrieve the disk that got mixed up in Akemi's holiday pictures, Conan got excited when Haibara told him the disk did not just have the drug's data, but also sensitive information about some BO members.

Another instant is when Gin told Pisco he can look up Shiho's data on the organisation's computer when they suspected she was going to Haido City Hotel. So I'm pretty sure Bourbon would have easily accessed the same database for his mission to capture her as per the organisation's demands.

By that logic, he’d have looked her up in the database to know what she looked like, her family, where she lived, etc. Butttt I don’t think he knew any more than that. Why? Well, I have a bunch of reasons why I think so, and it might get confusing but please bear with me 😂:

1. While in the organisation and after her escape, Shiho herself did not know anything about her family except for what she was told by the organisation, so how would Bourbon know anymore than her? It wasn't until she visited her father's childhood house and got the tapes that Akemi left for her when she learnt the truth about her family's past.

2. There aren’t a lot of people for him to provide him with information about Shiho (except maybe Gin and Vermouth). By nature, Shiho is reserved and was more of a loner (her sister was the only person she was close to). She barely interacted with anyone outside her department and when it comes to her lab-mates, I highly doubt they knew the pressures her parents endured before joining the syndicate.

3. When it comes to Gin and Shiho, we don’t know yet the extent of their relationship. And let’s assume they were romantically involved. I don’t think he’d know about her family’s past because she herself was oblivious to her parents’ past and Gin is not that good at remembering people who died anyway. And regardless, Gin and Bourbon don’t like each other. Gin even said he neither keeps tabs on Bourbon, nor does he like to share information with him. Also, since Shiho kept to herself in the organisation, it’s unlikely other members (including Bourbon) knew of her possible relationship with Gin. 

4. As for Vermouth, she seems to know the most about Shiho because of her mysterious link to the research and blatant hatred for Shiho and her parents. Now, there are two possible scenarios:

Vermouth knew the Miyanos' history before joining. She may have been kept in the loop to help with pressuring them so they could join. I'm basing this on her history with emotionally manipulating and tormenting people into doing things for the organisation (Itakura Saguru and the murderer who killed Fukuura Senzou in the off-season halloween party case are prime examples).

Eventually she clashed with them when they joined the organisation just like she clashed with Itakura Saguru later on.

The second (less likely situatuon imo), is she was unaware the organisation bullied them. She probably thought they willingly joined when they shouldn’t have, and she hates them because of their research.  

So, if Bourbon learnt from Vermouth that Shiho’s parents were forced to join the organisation, why was he still willing to hand Shiho back to the organisation? (I mean I don’t want to believe he’d stoop that low. Even if he had a plan to get her out later, I don’t think he’d risk exposing himself after handing her knowing she’ll only be killed or forced to complete the drug). And if the second scenario was true, it would explain why why he wanted to return Shiho to the organisation. But I don't think she told Bourbon anything and I'll explain why in a bit.

Based on all that, my theory is this: Vermouth played a part in getting Shiho’s parents to join the organisation. Later on, things didn’t go according to plan with the research so she began feeling animosity towards them. She never shared any of that with Bourbon because she didn’t want to risk him finding out about the drug’s de-ageing effects (he definitely doesn’t know otherwise he would have figured out Conan and Haibara's identities). And because he doesn't know the truth about her parents, he didn’t feel guilty about handing Shiho back to the organisation. 

5. Finally, when we look at Haibara talking about the White Dove pharmaceuticals, she suddenly became so knowledgeable about her parents' history when initially she knew nothing. She revealed all this information AFTER she got the tapes. That’s why I’m convinced it was Elena’s tapes that got her to know everything. Haibara probably also lied when she said it was her sister who told her. It is less likely for that to be the case because Akemi wouldn’t have been born to know what happened 30 or 25 years ago. And even if Elena spoke a little to Akemi about what happened, Akemi would have still been too young to understand. The only thing Akemi knew was the drug her parents were making was supposed to be a Silver Bullet of Justice.

So in conclusion, I feel the strongest pieces of evidence to prove Shiho and her parents were forced into that life would be the tapes and Vermouth. Rei never had access to the tapes nor does he know they exist. I’m guessing if he gets his hands on those tapes, they’d be a valuable lead that can help him link Vermouth to the Miyanos and somehow confirm everything.

I know this was reallly long and probably exhausting to read but I hope it made sense.

And yes, she will definitely despise Rei and she has every right to. Not just because he is PSB who planned on using her as a pawn, but  because of his relationship to her mother. I have a gut feeling Elena even mentioned him in her tapes (it is very likely since she too loved Rei) and once Shiho realises the boy from the tapes and Rei are the same person, it will leave her feeling gutted.

Again these are all just my theories and I could be very wrong but I can’t wait for everything to be revealed 🙌🏻

[hailing-stars]

@febuwhump day 27 “I wish I never gave you a chance.”

sneaky computer guts 

summary

It isn’t until Peter is out of the garage that he hears footsteps following him. Tony calls out for him, but Peter barely hears it. All he can register is the rage pounding in his ears.

He’s got the hammer raised over his shoulder, and he’s about to bring it down on his laptop when Tony’s hand catches his arm.

“Kid,” says Tony. “We’ve been through this. We don’t execute technology outside of the garage.”

Tony snatches the hammer away from him, and Peter drops his shoulders.

“You don’t understand, Tony,” says Peter. He’s unable to keep the frustration out of his voice. “That computer deleted my paper.”

“Deleted? Or just crashed?”

OR

Peter loses all progress on a term paper due to his computer crashing, and Tony helps him recover, in more ways than one.

“I wish I’d never given you a chance.”

Peter stares at the blank screen on his laptop, and feels like crying. Hours of work. Gone just like that. His paper’s due on Monday, and now, he has nothing but a useless pile of scrap tech parts and a primal rage mixed with grief brewing deep in his chest.

This act of betrayal from his trusty laptop is the last straw.

He stands from the dining room table, where he’d worked through the night to bang out the last half of his paper, and marches towards the garage. Tony looks up from his project when Peter enters his space. He raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t say anything or even try to stop him when he grabs a hammer and promptly leaves.

It isn’t until Peter is out of the garage that he hears footsteps following him. Tony calls out for him, but Peter barely hears it. All he can register is the rage pounding in his ears.

He’s got the hammer raised over his shoulder, and he’s about to bring it down on his laptop when Tony’s hand catches his arm.

“Kid,” says Tony. “We’ve been through this. We don’t execute technology outside of the garage.”

Tony snatches the hammer away from him, and Peter drops his shoulders.

“You don’t understand, Tony,” says Peter. He’s unable to keep the frustration out of his voice. “That computer deleted my paper.”

“Deleted? Or just crashed?”

“Sort of the same thing.”

“Uh, no, it isn’t,” says Tony. “If it’s just crashed auto-save probably saved your paper.”

“Yeah, well, I had auto-save turned off.” He hates admitting it, hates even just standing there, talking with Tony about the loss of his term paper and probably the loss of his good GPA.

“Peter, why?”

“Because it slows my computer down.”

“If auto-save slows your computer down, you needed a new one like months ago,” says Tony. He walks closer to the table, and puts his hand on the screen. By the look on Tony’s face, Peter can tell he’s judging the way his laptop needs Duct tape to hold it together. “Yep. You’re way past due.”

“But I like this one.”

“Peter,” says Tony. “You almost damaged my dining room table trying to destroy it.”

“I was blinded by rage. I see clearly now.”

“Yeah, you’re getting a new one.”

“I’m gonna tell May you’re trying to buy me ridiculous gadgets again.”

Tony has a long history of trying to upgrade Peter’s tech game. Not just Peter’s, either. After the incident where May came home from work and was greeted by the security AI Tony had installed while they were both away, he’s banned from the act of buying or upgrading anything tech related without May’s permission.

“This has been cleared with May for weeks now,” says Tony. “It was actually her idea. Something about her being able to hear that thing running from her bedroom.”

“Great,” says Peter. “Wish you two could’ve conspired against me and acted before I lost my paper.”

“Yeah it’s too bad there’s not a literal tech genius around to help you out.”

“I know,” says Peter, miserably. “Ned and his family are on vacation.”

Tony lightly taps him with the hammer.

“Why? Is there someone else?”

“I hate children,” says Tony.

He grabs Peter’s broken machine from the table, and together they go into the garage to attempt to recover Peter’s grade.

*

Tony connects the laptop to wires and more wires. He pokes around the computer’s guts with a screwdriver, and watches a giant monitor he’s got some of the wires plugged into.

Peter spins himself around in the wheely chair until his stomach revolts. He stops the chair by putting his foot firmly on the ground, and watches as the room continues to spin on. It’s trippy, so Peter starts spinning himself again, faster this time, and ignoring protests from his stomach.

“For the love god,” grumbles Tony.

His blurred figure gets closer, and suddenly Peter’s chair stops spinning. It takes him a few seconds to realize it’s because Tony has both his hands locked on the armrests, bringing the chair to a stop and putting an end to Peter’s ride.

“When you inevitably injure yourself, I’m not feeling sorry for you.” Tony lets go of the chair, and walks back to where he’s working on recovering Peter’s lost paper.

“Whooaaa,” says Peter, as the colors in the garage blur and spin. Everything stills, and all he has left is a nauseous feeling in his stomach. “We should have a wheely chair race.”

“That sounds like the worst idea,” says Tony, immediately, not even considering.

“Could be fun.”

“Why do I get the feeling the every single one of your dumb injuries starts with you saying exactly that?”

“Maybe experience?” asks Peter.

Tony chuckles, and looks up from the computer guts. Peter follows his gaze to the large monitor. A rush of relief washes over him at the sight of his paper.

“Tony,” says Peter, near tears again. The day has been a wild ride. “You’re a miracle worker.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he says. “I’ll just transfer the file to a flash drive, and you can load it on your new computer.”

“We could just fix up this one.”

Tony gives him a look. “You have a strange attachment to your electronics.”

“Me?” asks Peter. He beckons towards Dum-E.

“That’s completely different,” says Tony. “Dum-E is part of the family. What’s your excuse?”

“Ben bought that computer for me.”

The words slip out before Peter even recognizes it’s the buried truth behind why his laptop crashing threw him into such a state of rage and grief. He feels like crying again, but doesn’t want to make Tony feel awkward, so he keeps talking, in some vain attempt to keep the truth at bay.

“He couldn’t really afford it, you know?” says Peter. “But they were required for incoming freshmen at Midtown, and he really wanted me to go there. He got… so excited when I was accepted, so he got a second job and a credit card… to make sure I could go.”

“He was a good man.”

“Yeah,” says Peter, and that time, he can’t stop the tears.

He turns away from Tony, or tries too. He doesn’t get very far, because Tony pulls him into a hug, and before he knows it, he’s crying into the man’s chest.

“I just really miss him.”

Tony squeezes his arms, and pulls him closer. “I know, kid. He really loved you. It’s clear in everything you do.”

They stand there like that for a while, until Peter stops crying, and he backs out of Tony’s hug.

“He’d be really proud, Pete,” says Tony. His eyes flicker back over to the computer guts. “Maybe we could, uh, try and save the -”

“-No, it’s okay, Tony,” says Peter. He sniffles, and clears his throat. “Probably time to get another one.”

“Okay,” says Tony, his voice softer than before. “Okay, I’ll call the office. Have them send a StarkTop over.”

Peter nods, takes one last look at his old computer, then leaves the garage with Tony.

*

It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning, next barely the next day, when Peter adds the finishing touches to his paper and carefully closes the screen to his new computer.

He sits in Pepper’s home office, and leans back in the chair, a strange peace and reassurance settling over him.

Today might have been a truly awful day, if he hadn’t had Tony helping him with his paper, and May texting with him after his breakdown, and Pepper offering her the use of her office, so he could concentrate on his paper.

“It’s soundproof,” she had told him. “Otherwise I’d never get anything done in this place.”

Her office is extraordinarily quiet. A center of refuge in the middle of the chaos that is the Stark lake house. It’s so quiet he doesn’t hear footsteps or heartbeats, doesn’t predict the door creaking open until it does.

Tony steps inside. “Hey, kid, how’s the paper?”

“Finished.” Peter grins, happy to have that over and done with.

“Good,” says Tony. He walks across the room, and hands Peter a badly wrapped present. “Made something for you.”

Peter hesitantly accepts the gift, and unwraps it, while Tony shuffles around nervously. Under all the paper is a weird looking picture frame. It’s gears and wires and computer chips.

Inside the frame is a picture of Peter, May, and Ben smiling, on the beach at Coney Island. Peter still remembers that day. Just flashes and unconnected bits. Mostly, he remembers the way Ben laughed, loud and booming and free. It’s a memory that brings a smile to Peter’s face as his fingers glaze the glass covering the photo.

“Do you like it?” asks Tony. “The frame is -”

“-my old laptop?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure if it’d be okay,” says Tony. “But I figured it was better than just tossing it.”

Peter stands from Pepper’s desk chair and hugs Tony, keeping the picture and frame locked tight in his grip. “It’s perfect, Tony. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, kid.”

Peter lets go of him. “Uh, I’m sorry I lost it on you today. I felt fine before, but then suddenly I just wasn’t.”

“Grief is sneaky,” says Tony. “No apology necessary. I’m man enough to handle a few tears. It’s human.”

“Yeah,” says Peter, with a nod. “Guess so.”

“Come on,” says Tony, swinging an arm around him, and leading him out of Pepper’s sanctuary away from chaos. “Let’s celebrate you defeating the term paper.”

“Can we celebrate by you giving me a proofread?”  

“You’re such a nerd.”

“You’re an old man.”

Tony ruffles his hair, and Peter grins.

It had been a wildly emotional ride of a day. But now it’s over. He’d made it through, thanks to a little help from his family.

[ampleappleamble]

This is a long one.

Content warning: Mentions of child abuse.

—

Axa looked at Aloth sitting on the animancer's couch and wondered if, in bringing him here, she had made a mistake.

He looked utterly miserable: copper bands fastened just a little too tightly around his forehead and his wrists, too wound up with inner tension to even wipe away the bead of sweat slowly crawling down his temple, and Bellasege's cheerful, energetic demeanor as she bustled about setting up her equipment only served to further accentuate his misery. Kana and Pallegina paid more attention to the animancer than to their own traveling companion, inquiring about the procedure and the tools used in performing it regardless of Aloth's obvious discomfort, while Sagani and Edér fumbled awkwardly in their misguided attempts to distract him with jokes and platitudes. Overall, the room had an atmosphere suggestive of the future site of a terrible accident that, later, everyone present would claim they could never have seen coming.

Everyone but the victim.

Aloth's gaze met Axa's, silvery-blue eyes pleading silently, and she gave him the warmest, most comforting smile she could muster. "It'll be alright, Aloth," she reassured him gently. "We're all here with you."

Edér puffed on his pipe, bathing the elf in thick, odorous smoke while Sagani dabbed at his clammy brow with a scrap of cloth, her fox sniffing delicately at his boots. Kana ignored him in favor of examining the animancer's complex equipment, while Pallegina stood by the door, coolly observing the scene.

"Marvelous," Aloth muttered.

"Alright, gliente, we are ready now to begin!" The primary instrument Bellasege intended to use rather resembled a telescope, albeit one that bristled with gears and thick bundles of copper wiring, fixed into a tripod and focused on Aloth's midsection. The animancer peered into it eagerly, adjusting knobs and tilting it just so, all eyes in the room nervously darting between her and her subject, waiting for something to happen.

"First," she continued, "we must evoke this other presence in your soul, entice it into showing itself. And to do that, we must agitate your humors– stir up your essence, ac?" She poked her head out from behind the scope, beaming at him. "So! You will answer some personal questions so as to facilitate the emotional response necessary to draw out your inner turmoil."

Everyone's eyes widened as they turned toward Aloth, their eyebrows jumping up their respective foreheads. "Don't worry, dear," Sagani smiled, wincing as she patted his elbow. "We won't hear any of it, I'm sure." He did not look at her, and Bellasege waved her hand impatiently at the dwarf until she backed away from the couch.

Focusing again on the eyepiece of her scope, Bellasege pressed on. "Please state your full name, your species and stock, sex, age, date and place of birth. For the record."

He sighed. "I'm... I am Aloth Corfiser, Sceltrfolc, male, 62 years of age, born on the 9th of Préauton, 2760 AI, in the Cythwood, in the Aedyr Empire." He started off strong enough, but by the end his voice was wavering, his gaze flitting uncomfortably around the room, not quite able to stay on any one spot for too long.

"And at what time in your life did you first Awaken, Fentre Corfiser?" She somehow managed to take notes with one hand and fiddle with her scope with the other, her script messy and slanting severely to one side due to looking through her lenses instead of at what she was writing. "It is 'Fentre', ac?"

He glanced at Pallegina. "Is it?"

"It is," the paladin asserted. "Unless you are keeping a marriage secret from us, too. In which case, you would be properly addressed as Mestre Corfiser."

"Fentre it is, then," he sighed. "And to answer your question, I... I first Awakened when I was still very young, only fifteen or... thereabouts."

"Fractured at... the very cusp... of adolescence..." Bellasege made a quick mark in her notes, frowned, squinted harder into her scope. "...And what were your early years like, Fentre? Were you a healthy infant? A difficult child? Was your family splintered, abusive, impoverished, stricken with madness or malady?"

"I don't– I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered, frustration slowly coloring his pale cheeks. "I had a perfectly ordinary childhood. Nondescript, uneventful. What sort of a question is that to ask someone?"

Edér grinned. "The sort one asks a man who talks to a lady in his head, I'd reckon."

Axa glared at the farmer, stepping away from him and closer to the couch. "Not helping, Edér."

Judging from Aloth's reluctance in coming here in the first place, she figured they probably only had one chance at this, and he was never going to get anywhere if he couldn't relax and focus enough to be honest about himself. So she approached him until he was within arm's length of her, lowering her head to look into his face until he returned her gaze. "Here, Aloth: Try telling her about your parents. Your mother, your father. What's the first thing that comes to mind when you remember growing up with them?"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Axa became aware of something odd stirring within her. It wasn't physical, it wasn't mental, it wasn't exactly emotional although it was closer to that than to anything else she could ascribe it to. The feeling reminded her of her final moments with Maerwald, how after she'd landed the killing blow and the old man's soul had seeped up and out of his physical body, she had been able to reach out to it somehow, to communicate her will to it and help it pass out of this world, away from Caed Nua and off to the Beyond. Aloth's soul was in no way preparing to do the same, but at the moment it was more... open to her, despite not consciously using her abilities as a Watcher, and she could see it in a way she ordinarily couldn't– and if she tried, she found she could very subtly influence it, too.

His soul was dark and stormy, a thousand thousand writhing violet wires all coiled and snarled around one another, but as Axa spoke her voice resonated within her like the toll of a bell, waves of calm emanating out from her to roll over the turbulent sea inside him, and she watched as the wisps of essence at the edges of his soul smoothed themselves, began to pulse gently in unison. Her eyes were still locked with his, and she dimly perceived his pupils dilating, his eyelids drooping as his soul untangled itself and allowed him to give voice to his thoughts at last.

"My mother," he murmured softly. "My mother is... away. She's usually away, tending to her duties with her thayn. But when we're together, when she's home, she's good to me." The muscles under his eyes and at the corners of his mouth tensed up, and his breath hitched in his throat. "I... I miss her. But that's what brings in most of the money for the household. Her haemneg to her thayn. So she's away, often."

Bellasege gasped. "I'm starting to see something," she whispered.

"My father... hates this. Hates that it's her, her and her other man, who are supporting his family despite his hard work and dedication to his erl. He... he drinks to escape that pain. In great quantity, and often. As often as she is away, but sometimes even when she's home." Aloth narrowed his eyes, lip curling into a scowl. "And he takes out on us what pain he cannot escape in drink. He... hurts her when she's home. Hurts me when she's not."

"Keep him talking," Bellasege hissed excitedly, twiddling a knob.

Axa could still feel the calm emanating from her, great waves flowing over to his soul on the tides of her voice, entrancing him. They echoed back to her too, it seemed, snippets of feeling and memory riding back on their wake– a man's voice booming through austere halls, fear and anger that was not hers churning her guts. "He hurt you the day you were Awakened, too, didn't he?"

"She was home," he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "I should have been alright. She should have kept me safe. She was home, but he was sodden with it, and I–"

"Slow down," Axa murmured. "What happened exactly?"

"I– I was home, tending to my chores, sweeping the kitchen. Thinking about my training. I tried so hard, I always tried hard, but– but I was so terrified of failure that I couldn't focus, so my missiles weren't manifesting the way they should have. My flame shields were weak, unstable. Like me. And he must have heard about it." Aloth clenched his jaw tightly, his hands balled into fists, and Axa could feel something bubbling up within him, something in his soul raging and frothing up just beneath the surface. "I was sweeping the kitchen floor, and then– then I was sprawled across it, my blood was spattered across it, and I barely had time to think that now I'd have to clean it again before he–"

–can't even do that right, can you–

The disturbance in the depths of his soul spiked suddenly, making the tang of fresh blood and boot polish fill Axa's mouth and sinuses, the memory of his father's voice driving nausea and dread to rise up inside her like a malevolent fog. Aloth started to curl in on himself, drawing his knees up, hunching his shoulders.

–give me the respect I'm due if I have to wring it out of your worthless throat–

Aloth's voice was reduced to an agonized whimper. "It was then the beating truly began. I tried to protect myself, but if I shielded my front, he'd go for my kidneys, and if I rolled onto my back, he'd kick my ribs, stomp my belly. It was useless–"

–useless little shit, not even mine, is he, you whore–

"–useless. I was trapped, and he was... I thought he was going to kill me. So I... I did the only thing I could, and I... escaped in my mind. I took myself away from him, left my body on the kitchen floor, and I shrunk back into myself where he couldn't hurt me anymore. Where he could never hurt me again. And I... sh-she..." Aloth went silent, and his eyes whipped around rapidly beneath his eyelids, his fingers twitching and his jaw clenched so tightly Axa could hear his teeth grinding together. His soul thrashed and seethed, and Axa drew back instinctively, as though turning away from spitting grease.

"Madiccho, I'm losing it!" Bellasege bared her teeth as she furiously twisted her knobs, apparently to no avail. "He's managed to mesmerize himself somehow! His essence is all over the place. Tella, you've got to snap him out of it, quickly, per complanca!"

–stop it please stop he's our son our boy o gods you'll kill him you'll–

"Aloth–" Her heart leapt up into her throat, and before she could stop herself, Axa was reaching out to take his hand, holding it tightly between her own, desperately trying to bring him back to the here and now. "Aloth! Listen to me, you're alright, it's just a bad memory!"

For a second, it seemed to be working– his eyes stayed shut, but his breathing slowed, his shaking subsided, even his soul seemed to cool and congeal a bit, settling back into a more stable state. She squeezed his hand gently, her fingertips pressed to his palm, her thumb drifting over his knuckles. And after a moment, his fingers flexed weakly, tentatively gripping her hand in return. Something in her stomach fluttered, and warmth bloomed across her cheeks. "...It's alright. You're here now, and I'm here with you. You're safe–"

–it's over now, dear heart, you're safe, he's gone–

And with that, Aloth's eyes flew open, and very suddenly his soul violently rejected Axa's presence, severing her influence over it like slamming a door in her face. She jerked back in shock, his hand slipping from her grasp, and he dug his fingers into the meat of his thighs, knuckles white with tension as he glowered at the little woman.

"The lad's nere safe when I hap' upon him." His voice was low and husky and dangerous.

Axa blinked, looking at Aloth's eyes and seeing a stranger. "...Iselmyr?"

"Am damn sure nae yer Aloth, lass. Or could ye nae tell?" He smirked– no, she smirked, using his face, and a second later he winced, gasping and writhing as he struggled for control.

A cry of elation rang out from behind the scope. "Yes! At last! There it is: the anomaly in his soul, clear as crystal!" Bellasege jabbed at her parchment with her quill, consumed with what she saw through the polished adra lenses. "Fascinating! Please, Tella Mala, you must get it– get her– to engage with you further. This data is truly astonishing!" Even Kana looked mildly disturbed by the woman's enthusiasm for knowledge at the expense of Aloth's suffering, and he turned wide-eyed to Axa, grimacing distastefully.

She tried not to think about it. This was more for Aloth than Bellasege– much more– and though it was difficult for him, he'd be better off after all was said and done. "Iselmyr, what exactly brought you out in Aloth? Why did you feel you had to intervene?"

"Fer why'd ye think, ye wee daftie?" Iselmyr curled Aloth's lip into a snarl, glaring at Axa with barely contained rage. "The lad tellt ye whit his da were oop tae. When ye can hear naught but yer bones crackin' 'n' yer blood roarin' in yer heed, when crisis is nigh 'n' it's yer neck oan th' block– d'ye jess lie back 'n' let 'em snuff ye?"

Edér's pipe almost tumbled from his mouth, hanging agape with wonder. "Did anyone understand... uh, most of that?"

"Try to get them to talk to one another," Bellasege suggested, ignoring Edér entirely. "Interacting with outside influences is good, but interacting with each other ought to reveal exactly where one ends and the other begins."

"Can you do that?" Sagani knitted her brow, concern shining in her dark eyes as she studied Aloth. "And even if you can, is it a good idea?"

Axa leaned close again, carefully laying her hand on the elf's shoulder. "Aloth, can you hear me? Can you speak with Iselmyr? Ask her what she's trying to do?"

He groaned in frustration, planted his elbows on his knees and his temples between his fists. "What she's doing?" he snapped. "She's ruining my life, that– that damnable, stubborn–" He panted for breath, struggling against her, face red and veins throbbing in his brow. "Sticking weed–" he managed. "Worming parasite–"

And then he threw his head back, cackling, tossing Axa's hand from his shoulder as he did. "Fye, ye'd say th' same to yer wee kindled twig when it faws limp in yer haund!"

"Oof," Edér chuckled, shifting uncomfortably. "Guess that would be a pretty common problem for a fella, knowin' some lady's in his body, judgin' him the whole time he's tryin' to–"

"Not helping, Edér." Sagani echoed Axa's earlier sentiment, taking the man by the elbow and steering him away from the couch, Itumaak nipping helpfully at his heels.

"This presence in him, it... it's as though it pools in the recesses he's made in himself, it ebbs where he flows." Bellasege wobbled the scope to and fro, peering into it all the while. "Whether you meant to or not, Fentre, you've carved out quite the spacious little home for your other half!"

"That's ludicrous," Aloth hissed, outrage and humiliation burning his cheeks. "I give her nothing; she takes without asking, usurps me–"

"I only takes whit I need to keep us ou' th' scupper!" Iselmyr interrupted, baring Aloth's teeth, spittle flying from his lip. "An' I dinnae take wi'out givin', ken?"

Aloth blinked, then scoffed derisively. "What have you ever given me aside from trouble, you wretched bumpkin?" The back-and-forth was dizzying, but Axa was somehow managing to keep up.

"Fye, have lent ye a pair o' baws mair times 'n I can count," Iselmyr snapped. She turned Aloth's gaze on Axa again, his eyes wild and fierce with her behind them. "G'wan, Watcher-lass. Ask 'im whit I dae fer us. How last time that auld bastard da o' his lay his haund on us, I brek it in three feckin' places."

The triumphant grin Iselmyr had forced onto Aloth's face was replaced with an agonized grimace as he wrested control back yet again. "You had no right! That decision wasn't yours to make, nothing in my life was ever supposed to be your decision to make!"

"And Awakenin' in a wee scrawny jessie li' ye were nae my decision neither! But am here fer th' duration, an' am nae jess gonnae lie doon 'n' let ye get us both dragged behin' th' wagon!" This, it seemed, was Iselmyr's final word on the matter, and at last she once again fell dormant, relinquishing the reins of Aloth's body back to him. He sat for a moment, trembling and sweating and catching his breath, his ragged panting the only sound in the tiny, stuffy room.

The drunks outside the Black Hound, the cult in the catacombs, his father's vicious assault– it was all clicking into place. Whenever the meek, mild Aloth was threatened or overwhelmed, the bold, brash Iselmyr sprang forward to take care of it in his stead, although it seemed she also got him into as much trouble as she got him out of. Iselmyr was just as fiery in her defense of herself as Aloth was in his condemnation of her, but the more she thought about it, the more Axa couldn't help but think Iselmyr was trying, in her way, to defend him, too.

"Belfetto," Bellasege chirped, breaking the silence as she bounded out from behind her scope. "Excellent work, gliente! I think I have more than enough to work with here." She whipped her sheaf of notes out theatrically in front of her, her eyes scanning back and forth over them as she spoke, jotting down corrections and addendums here and there. "The second presence in the subject's soul– Iselmyr, as she calls herself– manifested most intensely during the, ah, more heated portions of their discussion. Her essence coalesced in its greatest quantities here–" she thrust her quill at Aloth's chest– "in his left ribcage, near his spleen. Therefore, she is obviously triggered by the production of black bile in the spleen, no doubt due to the profoundly melancholic nature of the subject." Bellasege beamed with pride at her diagnosis. The rest of the room's occupants stared at Bellasege with incredulity, exchanged worried looks with one another.

"Then by your... uh, logic," Kana ventured dubiously, "removing his spleen should... cure him?"

Aloth glared at the woman, eyes wide with disbelief at what he was hearing. "That... is utter horseshit," he spat, and Axa couldn't quite tell which of his body's occupants had used his mouth to say it.

Pallegina snorted. "That's one way to put it."

Bellasege's demeanor flipped in an instant. "Well! I'm certain you know exactly what's going on, then, given my extensive training in the animantic sciences and your having come to me for help. So do tell, Fentre: what is your theory?"

"I– You're seriously telling me to diagnose myself? Why did we even come here if you're only going to spout nonsense?" Aloth sounded more panicked than angry, and he turned to Axa in desperation, silently imploring her.

And she obliged, stepping between the injured animancer and her insulted subject. "If I may? I think, perhaps, you're closer to the truth than my friend is willing to admit, Bellasege." The animancer raised an eyebrow, gesturing for Axa to continue even as Aloth huffed indignantly behind her. "You were onto something when you suggested an emotional trigger for Iselmyr's usurpations, but from my experiences traveling alongside him and his retelling of his personal history– including the very illuminating account we've all just heard– I'd posit that Iselmyr tends to emerge when Aloth is in danger."

She half expected an argument, but both Bellasege and Aloth remained quiet instead, considering her words. "I... suppose that theory could hold some merit," Bellasege murmured after a beat. "You do know him better than I. However, I'll have to cross-reference it with other research, of course."

That seemed to shake Aloth out of his reverie, and he nervously began picking at the copper bands on his wrists. "That's all well and good for you, but I've waited fifty years for some answers. Can't you tell me anything now?"

"Aloth, this isn't the first time you and Iselmyr have spoken like this, is it?" Axa spoke softly, carefully. She had an idea, but she needed to ease him into it or he'd reject it outright.

Difficult, isn't he? Remind you of someone? The thought popped into her head as she remembered his hand, warm and trembling in hers, but she pushed it away.

He gave the little woman a guarded look. "Not exactly," he admitted. "I've been forced to be... discreet about her very existence up until now, so whatever disagreements we've had in the past have tended to be resolved quickly, by necessity. Not that it ever did me any good."

"But she has. You told me yourself your father was never violent with you again after Iselmyr gave him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe her methods aren't exactly what you'd choose for yourself, but you can't say she doesn't get results." Axa shrugged and gave him a hopeful little smile. "It might be worth it to... collaborate with her a little more. Let her in, try things her way."

"Yeah," Edér piped up, grinning, "she's alright. And if she starts somethin' you can't finish, you know we've got your back."

Aloth rose from the couch, rubbing his wrists and scoffing at Axa's words. "You wouldn't say that if you'd had to listen to her deranged ranting day and night for the past five decades." He cast a baleful glare at the discarded copper bands on the couch, but when he turned back to her, his face was thoughtful, sincere. "Regardless, this has been... quite an enlightening experience. In many ways. Thank you, Axa." He smiled at her, and her face went warm again.

"Ac, Tella Mala, agracima!" Not one to be ignored, Bellasege slapped her notes down on her desk and strolled over to her scope, preparing to disassemble it. "I'll be sure to make mention of your assistance in my report, send you a copy once it's published. Although unfortunately I will be unable to credit you as a co-author. You understand, of course."

Aloth's head whipped around to face her. "Report? Published?" He looked as though he'd just been sentenced to hang.

"But of course, Fentre Corfiser! This is science, not fun and games." She smiled at him like a cat with a cornered mouse. "You'll be the toast of Revua, rest assured!"

He balked, his face pale and drawn until a familiar crooked grin crawled across it. "Lookit ye there, shimmerin' star o' the soul sciences," Iselmyr quipped. "Jest whit ye've always wanted."

—

[parakeatswrites]

22. Space AU & 56. Awful first meeting for whatever pairing you like!

Thank you for the prompt!! Sorry that it took me so long to get 

I'm a sucker for the kind of space AU that has junkyard/wildwest aesthetcs and ai/telepathically linked ships. Also this idea got away from me a bit so we're looking at a Sarchengsey with a side of pynch. Had to stop myself before it got longer, but if I had more room, there would be lots of Blue & Ronan annoying friendship overtones.

[Link to OG post - give me 2 tropes & a pairing, and I’ll combine them!]

Either there was another glitch in the holographic screen of Blue’s pilot console, or there was a weak SOS beacon 20 clicks to their port side. She squinted at the static. The colour overlays had bugged out a week ago and she’d been flying by feel ever since. Somehow, she had thought flying between planets with contraband would be more exciting, but apparently anything could become banal if done frequently enough. 

“I think there’s someone out there,” Henry told her, fresh from the sonic shower and a nap in their tiny bunk. He leaned over her shoulder, warm and smelling of the cologne he had insisted on buying at the last trading post.

“Unlikely,” Blue shrugged him off and slouched into the creaky pilot’s seat.

“Open your eyes, Blue-bird,” he pointed at the screen as though he was any better at piloting than her, “it’s faint, but there’s a beacon, just there.”

Blue jostled the controls and his fingertip poked through the fuzzy projection. 

She said, “that’s an AGG beacon. Only R.A.V.E.Ns have them.” 

“Ohh,” Henry sounded thrilled at the prospect, “an Academy ship! I wonder what they’re doing all the way out here? Imagine swooping in and saving the day!”  

Blue pretended for a moment that he wasn’t going to convince her to check it out. She didn’t want anything to do with an Academy ship - everyone knew that R.A.V.E.Ns were assholes zipping through their backwater little sector like they owned it. With the way they were setting up research stations on each mid-sized moon, they might as well own the sector.

She was already turning towards the SOS beacon. 

Their hail was picked up the moment they were in range. Henry gleefully reeled off the standard opening call - at least he omitted their serial number - as he turned slightly in the tiny cockpit to hover over the communication panel. 

The voice that came back was threaded with static, but still arched with the entitled sort of accent you would expect from a R.A.V.E.N pilot. 

“Is your ship refurb Old Guard tech?” 

“Circa old age fourteen-fifteen,” Henry confirmed coyly.

“Are you seriously flirting about the commission date of our unlicensed ship?” Blue hissed incredulously. 

The voice was back enthusiastically, “I thought I recognized the symbols on the anterior. She’s beautiful, but she’s seen better days, I expect?” 

And Henry was swaying over the comms unit, eyes lit up by the blue dash. Blue could nearly see him writing the back-cover of his own trashy romance novel in real time.

“Do you need help or not?” Blue cut in, testily, before they got derailed further. 

“Oh, yes, I expect so,” the voice still did not seem to belong to someone who needed to be rescued. 

“You don’t sound like you need to be rescued,” Blue said. 

“Well, the AGG beacon does reach quite far,” the voice was happy to inform her, “I dare say that another smuggler will likely come along before my life support systems are critical, but they probably won’t have as interesting a ship as you do.” 

“I hate him,” Blue muttered. 

“Blue, be a dear and reroute some power to the de-con unit?” Henry asked, blowing a kiss towards her.

The first thing the R.A.V.E.N pilot said to them after stepping out of their tiny closet of a de-con unit was, “have you had any luck accessing the ship’s AI? This should really be in a museum - they’ve been doing stellar work at rigging up a device to allow interfacing with pre-Fall AI.” 

And because the first thing the pilot had done before speaking was tug off his pressure suit’s helmet to reveal mussed brown hair and a face that belonged on a recruitment poster, Henry mimed a swoon. 

Blue flipped on the janky autopilot and spun in her chair to glare at him, “listen, no more of,” she gestured at the pilot up-and-down, “all this.” 

He looked down at himself and seemed to consider this, then earnestly looked back at her, “I think the de-con took care of any pathogens, if that is your concern.” 

Blue had the patience to either pilot the ship, or deal with a floppy-haired Academy pilot, not both. Since Henry was already all-in on the romance of picking up a stranded pilot, Blue said, “I can either pilot this ship or deal with you.” 

“I would be happy to pilot the ship,” a small twitch to the pilot’s lips said that he was teasing her. 

Blue scowled and spun her chair back to the pilot controls, “we’re not taking him all the way to the Academy.” 

“We would love to take you to the Academy,” Henry said. 

“Henry.” 

“My apologies, I have been remiss in introductions,” the pilot sounded like he was offering a hand to shake, “Lieutenant Richard Gansey the third. But please,” and his voice was warmer again, “just call me Gansey.” 

“Henry,” Blue could hear Henry’s genuine excitement, even as he continued coyly, “you can call me, Henry, Gansey-man.” 

“A pleasure,” Gansey continued, “and for fear of offence, have you interfaced with the AI?” 

Blue wished she had - it was the whole reason she and Henry had kept this junker of a ship even though it had cost more in repairs than to initially buy off of the dealer Seondeok had connected them with. Blue had spent her whole youth dreaming of two things: getting off of that small moon, and figuring out even a small corner of the mystery of pre-Fall AI tech.

She didn’t want this annoying, self-entitled R.A.V.E.N pilot to stick his Academy nose into it. 

Henry said, “we haven’t heard a peep out of the AI.” 

Only the bloodlines from Glyndower’s Court were able to communicate with AI without bio-mods and they had all died during the Fall. Claiming to be able to interface with an AI was equivalent to trying to claim a birthright to a throne purposefully kept empty. That was a one-way ticket to a quiet death. Blue and Henry weren’t stupid enough to admit that to a stranger from the Academy even if they were fluent. 

“Say you were interested in changing that,” Gansey stepped up behind the pilot’s chair and Blue could see his boyish smile in the corner in her vision. Against her better judgement it lit up something sleeping in her gut. He continued, “I might know someone who could help.” 

[Star-wipe to a rusted out garage on a dusty planet with a tarp-sign that says “Parrish’s Repairs”. Blue’s ship kicks up dust as Ronan stalks out the corrugated steel door with his hand on the heel of a holstered pistol.]

[twentyninetynines]

@avengerofiron

FRIDAY let him in. It came of something as a shock, an unexpected twisting of the knife in his gut. He showed up armed with the knowledge that Tony wouldn’t be there, ready to make a piss-poor attempt at breaking into Stark Tower to collect everything he’d left behind so no one would have to see it there, but as soon as he got to the door it was opened. FRIDAY let him in, and part of Miguel almost wished she hadn’t. 

He sighed, swallowing his tongue and stopping himself from questioning an AI whose program probably just hadn’t been updated yet, told himself this was a good thing, slunk inside with his head down and his hands shoved in his pocket. Miguel didn’t have much to his name. He had a ratty couch that he’d considered tossing out the window the second Zee left him alone in his apartment because he couldn’t look at it without remembering the way Tony sat beside him on the cushions and spilled his guts out gripping a bottle like a lifeline. He had an AI currently set to mute because every few minutes she’d ask if he was okay. He had a half-eaten takeout box in the fridge sitting next to a jug of water he desperately wished was something else, a meal that would probably go uneaten until it started to smell because every time he walked by a mirror he was hit with a bout of nausea so strong it nearly toppled him over. He had a family in this decade that either hated him for all the right reasons, loved him for all the wrong ones, or wanted to use him for the only thing he’d ever been good for. 

And he had a lab with a few meager personal belongings on the shelf, because it had felt more like home than his apartment had for months now. He didn’t have enough left to his name to leave behind the things that mattered, even if Tony deserved to use them as target practice. 

Miguel navigated to the lab on autopilot, hand shaking as he went to enter his access code. The door unlocked before his fingers touched the pad, and he dropped his hand back down to his side, curled his fingers into his palms and felt his talons retract on contact. (There were times he wished they didn’t slink back into their sheaths the second they met his skin. This was one of them.) Pushing his tongue into one of the fangs in his mouth, he sighed again and walked through the open door, walked over to the table. Everything was where he’d left it. His blood sample on the table, Zatanna’s beside it. He hesitated for a moment before pocketing the vial of his blood, wondering if he should take hers too, wondering if it mattered. He was still teetering on the question when he heard the door open behind him.

He wasn’t sure who he expected when he glanced back, but... It wasn’t Tony. He’d figured Tony would be halfway around the world right now, as far away from this sting of betrayal as he could get. It was what Miguel longed to do, what he was desperately trying to stop himself from doing. Hesitantly, Miguel turned around, raised his hands uncertainly. “I’m not...” His mouth was dry, a bitter taste settling on his tongue. “I’m not trying to steal anything. I just --- I left some stuff here, and I thought... I figured it’d be better to get it when you weren’t around. I mean, I wouldn’t wanna see me right now, if I were you. I can go. I’ll go. You can keep the stuff. I can, uh. I’ll get new stuff.”

[morganclaire4]

“More Than Friends”

Part 2 of “Friends.....Maybe?”

Summary: Bucky finally mans up and confesses everything and has to ask for forgiveness.  

Warning: None

A/N: I finally decided to write the second part of this. And now I’m going to write another chapter of “Unexpected Gifts” 

“I messed up big time.”

After putting you to bed and texting Steve, Bucky goes to the kitchen and cleans up everything. He puts all the food away. Of course, he can’t help but taste it while he does. Once he taste it, it only causes him to hate himself more.

“God, I’m such an idiot.” He says to himself as he puts a lid on the container.

He puts the dishes in the dishwasher then heads to his room. He gets to his room and his phone chimes with a notification. It was a message from Steve.

Steve honestly doesn’t want to know what Bucky means by his text, but he has a gut feeling it has something to do with Y/N. He shakes his head and types a response. He presses send then puts his phone away.

-What did you do?

Bucky goes on to explain what happened tonight and waits for Steve to answer. Steve never answers.

Over the next two days, Bucky doesn’t see you and he doesn’t try to look for you because he knows you don’t want to see him. What he doesn’t know is that you haven’t moved from the bed since he put you there.

The team gets back in the evening of the second day. Bucky is in the hanger to see everyone. Steve steps off the quinjet with an unreadable expression. Nat and Wanda are next. They both step off and glare at Bucky.

“Barnes, I swear if what you did is not undoable then so help me god.” Natasha’s words aren’t laced with venom.

Bucky can’t help but duck his head because he knows it’s the truth.

Nat and Wanda go inside the compound to find you. They find you exactly where Bucky left you two days ago.

You’re curled up in the bed with your back to the door. You hear the door open, thinking it’s Bucky trying to check on you, you throw a pillow towards the doorway.

“Hey, we haven’t done anything.” Wanda says as she walks into the room and joins you on the bed.

Under your eyes there is old mascara, where Bucky didn’t quite wipe it off enough. Your skin is pale and your eyes are bloodshot and puffy.

“Oh, love.” Wanda reaches over and pulls you into her.

You start to break down again. All the feelings of hurt, rejection, and so much more, all come crashing down on you.

The last two days, you just laid in your bed staring at the ceiling. You couldn’t cry or make yourself get up, you were numb.

Now, you were feeling everything. Nat joins you both in the bed.

“How about you go take a shower and get cleaned up then we will have a girl’s night? We can watch movies or do whatever you want.” Nat says looking over at you.

You turn your head towards her and nod.

“Ok then, go shower. Because not to hurt your feelings but you have a funk going on.” Nat and Wanda laugh

You can’t help but laugh with them. Nat and Wanda get up so you can get out of the bed. You slowly get up, your muscles protesting from a lack of use.

“Take as long as you need.” They smile.

You walk into the bathroom and shut the door. You look at yourself in the mirror for the first time since that night. You’re still in the dress you bought, but your earrings and necklace are missing and your makeup is half wiped off.

You know you didn’t do any of it, so you knew it had to have been Bucky. Your heart flutters just slightly at the thought of him being so kind to do those things, but it’s quickly fades and is replaced with heartbreak.

You aren’t too sure why you are heartbroken, it’s not like he knew your feelings or reciprocated them. You just wanted to be a friend to him, even if that’s all it was. Deep down, you knew you loved him, so if just being his friend was all you had, then that would be enough. You just never got the chance to even be his friend.

You turn away from the mirror and begin to strip. You through the dress into the small trash can in your bathroom. You don’t want it as a reminder of what happened.

You turn the shower on and let it warm up. In no time, the bathroom is covered with steam. You step into the steaming water and sigh in relief. Your body relaxes and relishes in the heat from the water.

Once Wanda and Natasha hear the water cut on, they get to work. They strip your bed of the covers and sheets you’ve been laying in for the past two days. Wanda puts on the fresh sheets and lights a few candles.

Natasha sends the old sheets to the laundry and starts to gather food. She orders your favorite sushi, she grabs ice cream, chocolate, and a bottle of wine or two. Natasha comes back to your room in a much better state than when she first arrived.

She puts all the food on your desk, and they wait for you to finish in the shower.

After what feels like hours in the shower, you turn the water off. You feel more human now that you’ve showered. You dry off and put on a big tshirt and pajama shorts. You towel dry your hair then exit the bathroom.

Your eyes land on the desk full of food and your stomach audibly growls. You all three laugh at the noise.

Wanda uses her power to bring the sushi over to you. You laugh a little more then climb into the bed. Wanda and Natasha sit on both sides of you. Nat turns on your favorite Disney movie, and you all dig in to the sushi.

Wanda brings over the bottle of wine. All three of you pass it around, but you seem to drink the most of it. By the end of the movie, you were more tipsy than Wanda and Natasha.

“Feel better?” Wanda asks.

You sigh and lay back. Tears start to well up in your eyes.

“To be honest.” You start. “Not really. I love you two, but I still feel like my heart has been ripped out.” Tears slip down your cheeks.

“It’s gonna be ok.” Nat says softly.

“Just give it some time.” Wanda rubs your arm.

“How am I supposed to get over him if he’s always around? I see him everyday.” You cry more. “Him and his beautiful blue eyes, his hair, and his hot body.” You sigh and cover your face with a pillow.

“I hate myself!” You groan into the pillow. “I didn’t want to fall in love with, but I did. I let him and his stupid metal arm worm his way into my heart.”

Natasha and Wanda share a look and have to keep from laughing at your alcohol filled words.

“And the thing is, I love him so much, if he apologized I would forgive him.” You move the pillow and look up at the pair of redheads. “You two probably think I’m crazy.”

“No, Y/N, you’re not crazy.” Wanda says. “I truly believe you can’t choose who you fall in love with. It just happens.”

“Is there any more wine or maybe something stronger?” You ask.

“I think I can finds us something.” Natasha gets up and goes to the kitchen.

Sam, Steve, and Bucky are all in the common room. Steve and Sam letting Bucky have it. Even if Bucky couldn’t see how you felt about him, everyone else could. That’s why everyone always told her to keep trying with him, hoping maybe one day he would finally give in.

“Guys, I get it! I know I was a terrible person to her.” Bucky sighs and lays his head back against the couch.

“Do you Barnes?” Natasha asks as she walks out of the kitchen with a bottle of vodka. “Because if you do, you better start finding a way to make it up to her. She is so in love with you that she would settle for just being your friend if you didn’t feel the same, but she would never tell you that.”

Bucky just stares at Natasha in complete shock. You were in love with him? Why? All the things he’d done in his past and the ways he treated you, how could you love him?

Nat just shakes her head before turning and going back to your room.

Bucky looks back at Steve and Sam. “What should I do?”

The guys start to come up with a plan to help Bucky make it up to you.

When Natasha walks back into your room, she finds you asleep on Wanda’s shoulder.

“What took you so long?” Wanda questions the Russian.

“I had to talk some sense into Barnes’ thick skull.” She says.

Wanda gets up from the bed, careful not to wake you. They gather up the trash from your girl’s night and quietly leave you to sleep.

They join the guys in the common room. The guys are still trying to come up with a plan.

“Maybe, I should just go talk to her.” Bucky says. “If I just tell her everything, maybe I cam fix this. Then if that doesn’t work, I don’t know.” Bucky stands up from the couch.

“She’s asleep.” Wanda stops him.

“Then I will talk to her first thing in the morning.” He sighs. Bucky decided to turn in for the night. 

He walks to his room, feeling like total crap. Bucky doesn’t even want to imagine what you feel like. 

Bucky has never had love. He was a ladies man in the 40s and there was definitely no love with Hydra. It was all foreign to him. The feeling he gets in his stomach when you do something for him, the affect your smile has on him, and so many other things, yet, he is a total jerk to you about everything. 

Bucky didn’t want to love you because he thought he was too broken. That he was beyond repair, but he couldn’t stop himself, so he thought if he made you hate him then it would be easier on himself. 

Bucky gets into his room and falls face first onto the bed. He groans into the mattress then rolls over. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. can you let me know when Agent Y/L/N is awake?” 

“Of course, Sargent Barnes.” The AI responds. 

Bucky gets up and gets ready for bed. He takes a shower then puts on only his boxers for bed. He settles in and forces himself to fall asleep. 

It’s well after midnight when F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice is heard in Bucky’s room. He is startled awake by her voice. 

“Sargent Barnes, Agent Y/L/N is awake and in the kitchen.” She says. 

“What time is it?” Bucky asks the AI. 

“2:36 a.m.” She answers. 

He groans as he rolls out of bed. He knows you probably don’t want to talk, but he has to. He has to get everything off his chest, and hopes you forgive him. 

He is about to leave his room when he remembers he is only wearing his boxers. He quickly rushes to slip on some sweat pants and a tshirt. 

He leaves his room and heads for the kitchen. He finds you searching through the medicine cabinet in the dark. 

“Crap!” You whisper yell as you knock over a few pill bottles. The team kept a cabinet filled with over the counter meds for normal everyday problems.

“Maybe if you turn on the lights, you can find what you’re looking for.” Bucky reaches to turn on the lights. 

“Do not turn on the lights!” You pear around the cabinet door. You knew it was Bucky by his voice. 

“Why? Because you don’t want to look at me or another problem?” Bucky questions as he walks over to you. 

“Both if you really want an answer, not that you deserve one.” You words are dripping with venom. 

“You are totally right, I don’t.” He says softly. 

You continue you search for the Advil not giving him any attention. He reaches over you and pull the bottle from one shelf above where you looking. Bucky hands you the bottle then turns to grab a water from the fridge. He hands you the bottle and watches as you take the pills. 

“Can we talk?” Bucky asks. 

You don’t want to say yes, but you also want to ask him why. “Sure.”

“Can I turn the lights on so we can talk?” He looks at you. 

“Why do we need the lights?” You groan. 

“Because I want to be able to see you clearly while we talk.” He flips the light switch. Bucky watches as you squeeze your eyes shut and grimace. After a few seconds, you open you eyes and let them adjust. 

You look at him and your expression softens involuntarily. You haven’t seen him in almost four days. 

“Y/N, let me just start with I’m sorry.” Bucky says. You scoff. “I don’t think I will ever be able to say that enough to make up for what all I’ve put you through.” He looks down at the ground. “I was a jerk to you because I was scared of my feelings.” He looks up at you and steps a little closer. “The first day I walked in here, I was drawn to you. But, I thought I was too broken to love anyone, so I pushed you away. I tried to make you hate me.” Bucky explains. You listen to him intently, not wanting to miss a word. 

“And I will never forgive myself for the other night. I went out to meet with my therapist and to come with a plan to tell you how I really feel.” Bucky reaches out to take your hand. 

You want to pull away, but his hand wraps around yours, and it feels right. 

“I love you, Y/N.” Your mouth falls open at his words, utterly shocked. “I didn’t realize it until the other night when I carried you out of the dining room, that all the feelings I have when you are around are because I love you.” 

He said it again, and you feel like you want to cry. “Bucky-” You try to find the words but you can’t. 

“I know you right now you probably can’t forgive me for everything that I did, but maybe one day you can? Can we start over? Maybe this time we can be friends?” He looks at you with eyes filled with hope. 

“Bucky, I think I’ve loved you since you got here, and even after everything you did I still love you. I don’t think I will ever stop.” You admit to him. “I can forgive you because I love you, but if you really mean it, that you love me. You have to promise me that you will never hurt me like that again.” You look up at him as tears slip down your cheeks. 

He pulls you into him and places his hands on your cheeks to wipe away the tears. “I promise, doll, I will never hurt you again.” 

Bucky leans down, his lips just inches away from yours. You lean up and close the small gap. Your lips meet and if sparks could fly they would be flying. The kiss is slow and gentle. 

Bucky pulls away smiling. He looks down at you as a smile crosses your lips.

“I love you, Y/N.” Bucky whisper before pecking your lips again. 

“I love you too, Bucky.”  

Story tags: 

@sassybouquetrunaway-universe​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ @angstysebfan​ @fab-notfat​ @just-dreaming-marvel-2​ @mrspeacem1nusone​ @

[yoon-kooks]

Witch Hazel- Pt.6

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: FanficWriter!Jungkook, Idol!Reader, College!AU, Angst, Fluff

Summary: There are two students in your art class with a secret: you and the quiet Jeon Jungkook. You’re a problematic idol singer, infamous for your ice cold reputation and perpetual resting bitch face; he’s the artist and author behind the viral comic series based on a certain ice queen idol. After a blowup of destructive rumors, lost motivation and inevitable solitude, you stumble upon Jungkook’s comic and find a new and unexpected light.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: none

Parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // ?

A/N: i’ve had mixed feelings about the tumblr fic community as of late :/ but heres something to read🥺

-

Holding the boy’s pinky in your own, you stare once more at his drawing of you with your guitar and flower crown—a superhero to those whom you shared your music with.

No. Your music hasn’t saved anyone. You’ve never been a hero to anyone. If anything, you’re the one who needs to be saved. You’d always thought you could grow strong enough to save yourself if you just closed yourself off from the world and did everything on your own. But in the end, that only seemed to hurt you more.

You should’ve known. It’s okay to ask for help, to reach out, to let him in.

“A few years ago, I had a thought. It wasn’t a very smart thought, but I decided I wanted to share part of myself with the world. I thought about the different ways I could go about that, but the way that made the most sense for me was music,” you say, finally letting go of Jungkook’s pinky and making yourself awfully comfortable on a bed that doesn’t belong to you. “So I auditioned for Polar Entertainment. Not to be an idol, but to be a songwriter.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, but he nods as if it’s not a shock to him, as if he saw it as “a Y/N thing to do.” At the same time, his gentle eyes wait for you to continue, curious to know what’ll happen next.

“Do you remember the song you heard me singing the other day in the music room?”

Jungkook cracks a smirk and starts singing your song word for word in a surprisingly in-tune whisper. Oh, he remembers it alright, and he’ll apparently never let you live it down. He doesn’t stop until you throw one of the balled-up blankets at his face.

“That was the first time I picked up my guitar and sang that song since being rejected at the audition.”

“I can imagine how scarring that would be. Rejection,” he shudders at the word, though you’re sure he knows little about the feeling with art skills as professional as his. “They really didn’t like you though?”

“They liked certain parts of me.” Your vocals, your beauty, your body. “But not the ones that mattered.” Your music, your creativity, your personality. You.

“That’s their loss,” Jungkook says in the midst of a yawn, practically inaudible. But you heard him.

“Maybe they had a point,” you say, looking up at the ceiling. “Because when I look back to that time, it was quite foolish of me to believe my music would reach anyone when it came from a place of desperation, not my heart. The song was a plea for help, not one that would save others.”

“What made you suddenly sing it again after all this time?”

You grab hold of the boy’s hand and form yet another pinky promise. “Promise you won’t laugh at me for my reason.”

“I can’t promise you that,” he says with the straightest face. He’s ready to burst out laughing again and you know it.

“Then I won’t tell you.” With a hmph, you bury yourself under the fluffiest blanket. You wonder how he would’ve reacted if you told him it was that dang jk.seagull and his fanfic that gave you the courage to sing again, to go back to your roots, to follow your love of creating music. It’d obviously sound ridiculous to admit it out loud, but the joy you feel from reading Witch Hazel is what reminds you of the very thing you want to provide others with—happiness.

And that’s perhaps all the encouragement you needed to start sharing your music again.

“I won’t tell you what it was exactly that made me do it, but I’ll tell you why,” you peek your head back out of the blankets to see the boy still waiting patiently for an answer. “I wanted to move on… from the failure I faced that day. That way, I can finally become that superhero you speak of.”

You place the drawing of your superhero self onto the nightstand so that it doesn’t get crinkled up on the bed. No, she’s not a superhero yet. But she will be someday.

“I’ll look forward to it.”

“You better not tell anyone,” you remind him. “This isn’t something I share with other people. Ever.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” he assures you, with not only his words but also his warmth.

“Good.” You smile whilst closing your eyes. You meant to tell him that he could confide in you too, but the warmth pulls you into a deep slumber before you could do so.

-

It’s been a minute since you’ve awoken in someone else’s bed, though this is the first time you aren’t all wrapped up in their embrace. Rather, half the boy’s body is hanging off the side of the bed for dear life while you’re right smack in the middle, all bundled up in one of the blankets.

If you wanted to, you could push him over the edge with the tiniest tap of your foot—that’s how close he is to falling. But as tempting as it would be to get even with the boy who teases you to no end, you opt to quietly check your phone without disturbing him.

To your surprise, you have two new notifications: a text from Seokjin earlier this morning and a late-night update from jk.seagull posted sometime after you had passed out. You’ve always been the type to take care of work obligations before indulging in guilty pleasures, so you open Seokjin’s text first.

6:04AM jinnie “so jimin’s manager reached out to me”

6:05AM jinnie “and you want to collab with jimin?”

7:12AM Y/N “oh yeah i asked him to have his manager contact you”

7:13AM Y/N “but i guess i forgot to tell you LOL”

It’s not that you forgot. You were just hesitant to tell your manager about it yourself. Because if possible, you’d like to minimize your own company’s involvement in this top-secret scheme of yours.

7:15AM jinnie “are you up to something?”

7:15AM Y/N “mayhaps”

7:16AM Y/N “but dont tell boss lady pls”

7:17AM jinnie “shes going to find out one way or another”

7:19AM Y/N “thats true 🤔 ”

7:20AM Y/N “well tbh knowing her, she’d probably approve of the collab anyway since it should clear up those dating rumors while (hopefully) appealing to jimin’s fanbase”

7:21AM Y/N “just dont tell her the logistics of the collab”

7:21AM jinnie “what are you scheming lmao”

7:22AM Y/N “youll see”

7:22AM jinnie “ 😒 dont get me or yourself in trouble Y/N”

7:23AM Y/N “i wont! i promise! 🥺 ”

7:24AM jinnie “okay fine”

7:25AM jinnie “ill arrange a meeting with jimin and his manager to discuss everything formally”

As you move on to the more exciting notification on your phone, you see that the sleeping Jungkook has slipped several inches closer to falling flat on his face. Maybe you’ll save him from his impending doom. Maybe you won’t. But that’ll have to wait until after you see what jk.seagull had to say on his blog.

“do you ever think back to that one time in math camp when a little girl screamed in your face that she hated math and wanted to become a musician instead? apparently she somehow confused ‘musician’ with ‘mathematician’ LMAO”

You aren’t sure what provoked the silly seagull guy to share such a random thought, but you do get a good laugh out of it. After all, you can totally relate as someone who went to math camp one summer despite knowing in your heart what you truly wanted to do-

Wait.

“Jungkook,” you say in a half-hushed, half-urgent tone, though calling his name wouldn’t be what actually wakes him from his slumber. “I think I know who the seagull guy is.”

Thud. You swear on your life you didn’t lay a finger on the boy when he fell, despite all the devilish thoughts you had about it earlier. He fell on his own. You’re innocent. Therefore, you have a right to laugh.

“Are you okay?” you snicker, peering down from the bed at the dazed boy. He might have been the biggest klutz for rolling off the bed and stumbling around to find his glasses, but holy shit. His wild bedhead and scattered blankets across the floor make it seem as though the two of you had a lot more than just an innocent heart-to-heart in his bed last night.

“I’m fine,” he stretches his arms and combs the bedhead out. Yes, he is fine. “But, uhh, what’s this about that seagull guy?”

“I think I know him.” You expect Jungkook to be as excited as you are, but he just seems kind of puzzled—perhaps from his lack of sleep.

“…and how did you come to that conclusion…?” he asks. Or maybe he doesn’t believe you.

“You didn’t see the post! Look at the post.” You join the boy down on the floor and make yourself at home there with your phone and some of the fallen blankets. He leans over your shoulder to read the infamous post you won’t shut up about.

“Math camp?” Jungkook continues to squint at the cryptic message before chuckling. “Also, did that girl seriously confuse musician with mathematician?”

“Stop laughing! That dumbass was me.” Now you wish you had kicked his ass off the bed.

He stops laughing, not because you told him to but because he’s mildly shook. “What?”

You take a deep breath in because you know you’re setting yourself up to be clowned for the rest of your fucking life. “When I was like ten, I told my parents that I wanted to be a mathematician, thinking that word meant musician. So they signed me up for camp that summer.”

“Did you ever stop to think that mathematician has the word math in it and not mu-”

You interrupt the boy’s unwelcomed commentary with an air-punch to his guts before continuing on as if nothing happened. “I was so excited until I got there. It was absolutely mortifying to learn that it was a math camp, not a music camp.”

“I like this story,” he nods with his arms guarding himself in anticipation of another air-jab as you square up.

“Still, I tried to make the best out of the situation since I was actually kind of good at math,” you say. “The camp director even told me I’d make a great math professor one day.”

“I can’t imagine you as a math professor.” He settles down with all the chuckling.

“I couldn’t either, so I ran off to an empty room where I thought I could escape without anyone finding me,” you soften your tone. “But somehow a crying, wandering boy found me.”

“Was it the seagull?”

“Maybe. All I remember was hearing music playing from somewhere outside. I sang along as a way to comfort and distract myself from the whole math situation, but it seemed to cheer up the boy as well.”

“Your voice does have that effect, you know.”

“He told me the same thing.” You can’t help but smile a little at the compliment. “But in that moment, it felt like my dream had a purpose beyond fueling my own desires. And I needed to share it with someone. Anyone.”

“So you shared it with the boy?”

You nod. “I told him my dream was to be a mathematician, but he knew what I meant.”

“Did he at least clown you first?”

“He did. He laughed right in my face, and at first I thought he was a jerk for making fun of my dream. But after he kindly taught me the difference between musician and mathematician, I announced my actual dream to him and him alone.”

“And how’d he respond?”

“He said it was cool beans.”

“He said cool beans?”

“Those were his exact words, yes.”

“And that was it?”

“That’s all I can remember.”

“So you don’t even remember his name or anything?”

“We never introduced ourselves,” you shake your head. “I don’t remember his face either because it was covered by a hood and long hair.”

“That’s too bad,” Jungkook sighs. “I bet it really was that seagull guy after all.”

“I have a feeling it was him, too.”

It would be nice and awfully romantic if you had somehow crossed paths long ago with the very seagull who continues to inspire your craft with his own. But even if that isn’t the case, you’re content with having that memory and entrusting it with another boy who has done nothing but lift you up.

You lean yourself gently against the Jungkook’s shoulder as you slip your phone back into your pocket, debating on your next course of action. The two of you should be getting ready for class, but that doesn’t sound very appealing. There are other things you’d much rather be doing, like maybe thanking the boy for lending his ear. But for some reason, it’s still difficult for you to say those two simple words of gratitude.

Perhaps it’s difficult because there’s a lot more you’d say than just “thanks man.”

“Can we just cut class and get coffee instead?” Yes, you’ll thank him for his service by treating him to coffee. Unless…? What if this is just your subtle way of asking the boy out on a date? What if he says no because you’ve already spent way too much time with him in the past 24 hours? What if he hates coffee? What if he-

“We should probably go to class to turn in our project, yeah?” Jungkook brings up a good point. But the thing is, you don’t really have your priorities straight at the moment and your mind has only two things consuming it: coffee and boy. “But we can get coffee after class.”

“Ooh, good, because there’s this one coffee shop I want you to try!” You chirp up despite your nonexistent dose of morning caffeine. “It’ll be my treat as thanks for… letting me hog your bed.”

“Oh right... that,” Jungkook hops to his feet and starts tidying up said bed. You help by picking up and folding all of the blankets. “I nearly froze and fell to my death because of that, you know.”

“I saw,” you bite your lip, trying to mask any naughty thoughts that come to mind. Because next time, if there is in fact a next time, you won’t let the boy freeze.

-

By the time art class ends, the weight of the dreaded group project has been lifted and your craving for coffee begins to settle in once more. And apparently, the hunger and excitement is radiating off you because someone has the audacity to make a comment about it.

“Why does your face look like that?” Taehyung teases, but you’re mildly offended.

“Because I’m getting coffee from my favorite café. That’s why,” you hiss but there’s still a hidden glow about you and your excitement. “Coffee is to me as girls are to you, Taehyung.”

“Ooh, speaking of girls, do any cute girls work there?” He strokes his wise man beard. “Maybe I’ll tag along.”

“I don’t fucking know.” And even if you did know, you wouldn’t say yes.

“How boring,” he yawns while nudging the boy next to him. “Hey Jungkook, wanna go on a double date with me? I met a pair of gamer girls, but I don’t know all the nerdy gaming stuff that you know. And think about it, this could be the first time you get laid since-”

“Actually, Jungkook’s getting coffee with me,” you interrupt. And if you had been brave enough to look up at the boy as you spoke, you would have seen the healthy pink radiance on his cheeks.

“Oh, so the two of you are dating all of a sudden?” Taehyung nods, as if he had hit the mark.

Neither you or Jungkook give an immediate answer, probably due to the unspoken yet very apparent shift in dynamics between the two of you as of late. Yes, you’ve developed certain feelings for the boy, but no, you aren’t technically “dating.” You just hope he’s on the same page as you.

“It’s just coffee,” you want to say, but it comes out of Jungkook’s mouth instead. And even though you would’ve said the same exact thing, it hits a little different hearing it from him.

At the same time, coffee is coffee and Jungkook is Jungkook. You need to remind yourself that your craving for coffee with the boy will be satisfied, regardless of whether it’s a date or not. After all, “dating” is not an option for an idol who should only be focusing on her music and fans.

“Which drink would you recommend?” Jungkook asks as you lead him in the direction of the café.

“If you like coffee, all of the drinks are good in my humble opinion,” you say, though you realize you should probably give the boy a few specific suggestions to make his decision a little easier. “You can get a standard mocha or latte if you want something simple. Or, their signature hazelnut coffee is really really good. Or if you want something iced, you should try the cold brew because it’s literally the most refreshing dose of caffeine ever. Oh! But if you’re into something more plant-based, I suggest the maple oat-”

“You’re not narrowing down my options if you recommend the entire menu, Y/N,” the boy chuckles at your coffee enthusiast behavior.

“Well, here’s my thought process: if we go at least once a week after class, you can eventually try every drink on the menu by the end of the school year. Not including all the different types of milk options though.”

“I don’t know if I should be impressed or terrified that you even bothered to do that calculation.” His eyes are bigger and brighter than the sun. “But that must mean you really like coffee then, huh?”

“Of course! Is that even a question?” The snobby coffee enthusiast jumped out real quick. But even beyond the coffee, you did the calculation to see how long your little coffee not-dates with the boy could last before you have to return to your idol obligations. “You like coffee too, right?”

“Not really,” he sighs. Your jaw drops. Who the does he think he is? “Are there any tea options? Or like a banana milk or something?”

“You can’t just walk into a coffee shop and not order coffee.” Is this guy for real? No, he’s just fucking with you. Probably. “I better start reevaluating who I hang out with,” you say with a sarcastic hmph.

“I’m kidding, kind of.” He doesn’t do a very good job of reassuring you of that. “I like… coffee.”

“That hesitant pause doesn’t sit well with me, Jeon.” You raise an eyebrow at the suspicious boy. It feels nice to tease him for once. “Why are you grabbing coffee with me if you don’t love it?”

“I just curious about this coffee place,” he nudges you, “since someone seems to really enjoy it.”

So it’s because of you…

“Good to know I’ve successfully peer pressured you into consuming caffeine,” you hum, playing it off as if his words weren’t absorbed right into your heart. It was never about coffee.

It’s about you and him.

The thought of that makes your heart scream a little, so you hide your flustered face behind your phone as the two of you approach the coffee shop. You have an unread text from your manager.

2:35PM jinnie “good news”

2:36PM jinnie “i set up a meeting with jimin and his manager in an hour”

You stop in your tracks. That’s not good news. Well actually, it is good for your top secret collab. But the timing of it all is anything but good.

“Are you searching up the menu online? Oh wait, you already have the entire menu memorized from A to Z.” He thinks he’s funny. Now is not the time, Jeon. His teasing smile doesn’t disappear until the distress is written all over your face.

How do you cancel a not-a-date date without a proper explanation? How can you do that to a boy who has only ever done you right? The thing is, you don’t have to hurt him.

You can cancel the meeting, you can bail out on the collab, you can disappear from the idol world altogether if you choose to do so. And if you didn’t want to go that far, you could instead tell the boy of your deepest and darkest secret, of your idol identity, and he would surely understand your reasons for having to leave so suddenly for work.

You could do any of those things, but you decide not to. You won’t allow yourself to make such a rash decision, even if it’s the right one. So you decide to keep the meeting, you decide to keep your idol self hidden in the shadows, and you decide to abandon the boy.

[whispersafterdusk]

Lost in Time - ch 12

Spring was here; it was still cold but now it was a lot wetter.  He missed the snow in a way, since it was essentially a readily available cold pack for sore muscles.

And oh boy, were Arlo's muscles sore.

Eli had started them out easy; a couple weeks of basic work outs with her slowly introducing new techniques and exercises each Monday with the weekend set aside for rest and recuperation.  But by the second month of spring she'd started ramping things up: harder, more grueling exercises, longer sessions, diet requirements.  He could tell he was starting to put on muscle mass already but all the work left him so stiff and sore that he often got back to his room in the evenings, climbed into bed, and didn't move again until morning came.

He couldn't go straight home tonight though; his day had started bright and early with the group exercises, then he'd spent another afternoon down in the facility, and tonight he was supposed to meet Nora at the Round Table for dinner.  It was the first arranged meeting they'd had in...awhile.  No amount of sore muscles would have him missing this. ((Continued below cut))

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

The Barnarock Black was her Thursday evening drink of choice, and being as it was both a Thursday as well as right on heels of a several-hours-long social meet-up with Carol and Antoine, Eli was ready for a drink.

And food.  Being as she hadn't expected the meeting to last as long as it had she'd skipped lunch, and while there were snacks and tea she had to really restrain herself from eating a ton of junk food while trying her best to ignore the rumblings in her stomach.  Thankfully the chatter never really let up so she didn't think anyone had heard her gut screeching for sustenance but once they'd all parted ways she'd all but run down the street toward the Round Table.

On her way through the door she was almost knocked over by Nora leaving; the girl had thrown the door wide open and slammed it (accidentally) into Eli's hand as she'd been reaching for the handle to open it herself.  As Nora shuffled by with a half-apology and all but ran toward the hill leading toward the church Eli stood there both wondering what the heck had prompted her to rush out of there while also trying to awkwardly pinch shut the fresh cut over her middle knuckle before it started to really bleed.

Inside the Round Table she could see Asher at the long side of the counter, Dawa and Dana at the far end of the counter taking up the pair of stools there, Mars and his daughters in a back booth, and Gale and his family were sitting at the round table in the middle of the room.   Sonia was busy buzzing back and forth between tables and the back of the restaurant and Django was nowhere to be seen but based on the number of people in here he was probably up to his ears in food orders.  

"Evening," Asher greeted her as she took a seat next to him.  He tilted his head and got a look at her hand.  "Need something for that?"

"Nah.  It's just a scrape.  Did Django not have her favorite pie or something?"

"Who?"

"Nora, isn't it?  With the church?"

"Oh, yeah - that was Nora. No idea.  Didn't even know she was here until she left - I never seem to notice that side room there."

Eli knew what he was talking about; there was what looked like a newer addition on the front of the restaurant - it had a large bookcase stuffed full of books, a radio on a stand alone cabinet, and a single booth with a pair of loveseats (which wasn't so odd considering that instead of benches or chairs at the other booths there were plush couches that seated 3, maybe 4 if you piled in together).  It was easy to let your attention slide right passed it since you couldn't really see it or see into it unless you crossed the room to the tables on the back wall.

It looked like just Arlo was sitting-

Ah.  Ok then.

Eli inhaled through her teeth - an awkward hiss, of sorts - and sat down at the counter.  It took awhile for Sonia to make it over and take her order; the cut on her knuckle kept oozing and she'd resorted to periodically swiping the blood off with a thumb and then sticking said thumb into her mouth.

"You SURE you don't want something to wrap that in?"

"All the napkins here are cloth.  I'd rather not stain them with a bodily fluid."

Asher rolled his eyes and pulled a rumpled, dark green handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it.  "And before you ask, no, I haven't blown my nose into it.  It's clean but stained so don't worry about adding to it."

As he said the handkerchief WAS stained - looked like oil, and blood too - but she wrapped it around and tied it off.  "Well, at least I won't drip anywhere.  Thanks.  I hate how much hands bleed before clotting up."

"I agree - knees and shins too.  And no problem.  I've actually never, ever needed to blow my nose in one of those - my dad made me carry one around for that purpose and I always end up using it for something else.  It's a pretty gross concept, really...stuffing a crud-filled cloth back into my pocket.  And I'm supposed to use it several times over a day?"  Asher wrinkled his nose at that.  "And I say that after having gutted fish and food animals...guts and blood?   Totally fine.  Snot?  No thank you."

Eli chuckled; he had a point, after all.  He also still had a noticeable bruise across his cheek from a cross-country jog last week where he'd taken a tree limb right to the face when an end piece had snapped off and slapped the rest of it directly back into him as he'd gone to push passed it. "We usually had bandages and tissue glue on hand for little things like this.  I've even stuck industrial tape over cuts to hold it over until I got back to treat it properly.  Drove Peter absolutely insane doing that.  Was good times..."

"Peter?" Asher repeated.

She leaned forward and braced her elbows on the counter, putting her chin in her hands.  "Yeah - he was one of our team medics.  Him and Ashley, kept us pieced together and put all the blood and chunks back where they belonged."

Asher nodded slowly at that.  "Not a bad idea - having a dedicated medical person.  It's not something we typically do unless it's a big expedition.  But, we all have some basic first aid training so it's not like we're heading out without anything at all."

"Do you have assigned squads in your Flying Pigs?  I'm not even sure what an adventuring guild is."

"Not really," he answered.  "We're a sort of grab bag group - we pick and choose who goes where, unless someone was specifically requested for a contract job.  As for what we do we inspect old ruins for dangers and clear them out, protect those who need protecting, and we help map out areas that no one's been to in centuries.  We've been a bit focused on that lately - eventually we'll make better strides out into the Peripheries and the Great Begeondan and get some settlements in place there too but, no lie, those are some of the most dangerous places on the continent.  Full of monsters and rogue AIs, weird weather, extreme temperatures too."

"Sounds like my kind of place."

The look he gave her was somewhere between surprise and suspicion.  "You're...joking, right?"

"Not in the slightest.  Believe it or not there were a lot of wild, wide open places still left in the world back in my time period.  A lot of our training happened out in harsh areas, and sometimes we'd get called in to go track down some idiot tourist or terrorist that had disappeared out there.  Rangers had to be ready for just about anything, in any climate or location, for any reason."

Now he looked less like he thought she was joking and more just genuinely surprised.  "So - I mean.  It just seems weird to me that what survived through the ages were stories of humans living lazy, luxurious lives, with robots doing everything.  And then you say there were wild spaces and hard training and having to be ready at the drop of a hat.   Why was there any need for soldiers, or rangers?  At least, human ones anyway."

Eli shrugged.  "Each time I hear 'robots did everything' it surprises ME because it seems like no one actually gives thought to what that means beyond its surface.  Would YOU want your life in the hands of something that's one hack or power failure away from shutting off entirely, losing all your files, or turning on you?  Most people tended to act honorably and not target the innocent and whatnot but still, there were those who wanted their voices heard or wanted power and control no matter how many people they incidentally or purposely killed.  In hindsight the fact that the leaders of the world worked so hard to keep the nasty, dark, and terrible things out of the public eye seems to have...really slapped the rose colored glasses on, to the detriment of accurate historical record. Granted, "accurate records" were a bit of joke anyway - at least to those who knew what was being to told to military and what was sent out to civilians. Oh, a hospital got hacked? A train engine exploded for no reason? Power shut off mysteriously?  Nah, nothing serious - just "equipment failures" causing weird quirks and shutdowns," Eli said, raising her hands to stick air quotes around 'equipment failures' and all but oozing sarcasm.  "The world was...certainly something, compared to what it is now.  But there's no such thing as a utopia.  People are always going to be unhappy about something, or slip through the cracks of society and feel they have a justifiable reason to make their displeasure known in violent ways.   There's a reason all the nations still had standing armies even though we'd had peace for centuries, before I was even a concept in Fate's outline.  They kept us all busy with public works projects, organized war games - think big but friendly skirmishes with harmless paint-based or laser weapons with sensor suits - and, like I mentioned before, the occasional idiot tourist rescue, but it wasn't all sunshine and daisies unless you were a regular citizen."

Asher let out a soft noise - Eli thought it was 'geez' or something similar - and rubbed at his chin, going silent for a bit.  Sonia brought out Eli's usual beer then disappeared just as quickly as she'd popped up; Eli had half the bottle downed before Asher spoke again.

"Bet you never thought you'd be correcting history books, huh?"

She sat the bottle down and did a half-assed imitation of jazz hands.  "Ta da, I am full of surprises."  That rapid shaking movement dislodged the handkerchief around her knuckles a bit so she untied and then re-tied it back into place, using her teeth this time to help tighten the knot a bit better.

Over the chatter and sounds of cutlery on plates Eli made out the sounds of plodding feet, and shifted on her stool just enough to see Arlo slouching his way toward the door; right as he reached it it opened and Remington was framed in the doorway briefly before he stepped aside.

"Oh, hey - how'd it--" Remington was cut off as Arlo slipped passed him and kept going without a word; the man stared after him a moment.   "--go..." he finished his sentence with a frown, and a shake of his head.  He came inside and up to the counter to take the empty stool on Eli's left.  "Evening, guys."

"Evening.  How's the knee?" Eli asked.

Remington slid his legs around and flexed his leg a bit.  "Not as bad as I thought it'd be, by now.  It hurts but no more than it does when the weather is bad."

"Good to hear.  I wish flex-gel still existed...that stuff worked wonders."

"Well, we make do," Remington chuckled.  "What's tomorrow looking like?"

"Starting with a warm up run, then I have a couple new things to show.  They're...hard, so I won't keep you all too long at it, and you'll have the weekend to recover like normal."

"Something to look forward to, then," Remington replied.  

Sonia came back with Asher and Eli's orders, took Remington's, and disappeared again.

As she picked up her fork Eli offered the two men a small grin.  "I probably should have warned you both to eat light tonight.  It's going to be a rough morning."

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

"Before today...no idea...what a burpee was," Asher wheezed from where he was laying flat on his back on the grass.  "Can't say I care for them....or the reverse ones..."

"A sentiment I can get behind," Sam groaned.  She wasn't laying down but she was sitting a couple feet from Asher with her arms around her legs along with her head nearly between her knees.  

Remington was off to the side finishing up some additional push ups with a sack of sand on his back for weight; Eli had let him do a few burpees to see how his knee held up and had eventually decided not to risk blowing the joint out.  While Sam and Asher did regular and reverse burpees with one-pound sacks of sand in each hand Remington had to do lunges, sit ups, and push ups with a five pound sack.  

For whatever reason though Arlo wasn't present.  

Earlier, before they'd started on their run, Eli had caught Remington and Sam sharing a knowing look, and when asked neither of them owned up to knowing why Arlo had skipped today.  She'd decided not to press the issue and had gone about the morning as she'd planned; being as the burpees had wiped everyone out she was content to not do their cool down jog and was just settling on the top of the fence when she spied Arlo's figure coming toward them from Portia's gates. He was...slouching a bit, and looked a little tired.  

"Morning," she called when he was within not-quite-shouting distance.

"Morning.  Sorry, didn't mean to miss today."

"No problem.  I can do a repeat if you're still up for it."

From his spot still flat on the ground Asher raised a hand.  "Run - run while you still can."

Eli snorted.  "Well, yeah - running is part of the routine."

"Not what I meant," Asher chuckled.  He rolled over and groaned as he got to his feet.  "I've got to get back out to the facility...maybe lay down somewhere that isn't wet and muddy for a bit before I get dragged into the depths to watch some old folks fart around in piles of dust."

With a smile Eli slid off the fence.  "Remind them to leave things where they found it and to not try turning anything on.  Going to be hard enough as it is to unlock personal stations without them tripping the lock out mechanisms."

"They've been fairly good at keeping their hands to themselves now that they have Stewart to entertain them but I'll remind them.  See you guys later."

With that Asher headed out of the fence gate and headed toward town; he was walking in a slow, wincing manner, and Eli made a mental note to go a bit easy on them on the next couple of work days.  A few moments later and Arlo was standing at the fence - on the outer side - and after a pause he sighed.

"I have something I need to speak to you privately about, if you have time."

"Sure."  She hopped off the fence and looked to Sam and Remington.   "If you want to do your cool downs that's up to you but otherwise I'll see you guys Monday morning, or whenever I next run into you."

She left through the gate and walked alongside Arlo down the road heading toward the shoreline; by her estimate they were halfway to the harbor before he started speaking.

"I wanted your opinion on something because it technically involves you.  But first I need to ask - have you noticed anyone treating you differently, or rudely, lately?"

Eli shook her head.  "Not that I've noticed.  There's still some people that I think I make nervous but they're also not anyone I speak to or see often."  She paused and then let out a small huff of laughter.  "I think I'm doing a pretty good job proving I'm harmless to people I see on a day to day basis."

Arlo nodded at that and his pace slowed just a bit.  "Have you interacted with Nora or Lee much?"

"Ha, no.  Nora runs away from me and I think Lee would walk straight through the side of a building to avoid walking on the same street as me.  I do notice he gets a bit louder in his sermons in the plaza if he sees me nearby but he doesn't directly single me out."

"So, you don't think Lee has had too much influence on how others are treating you?"

Eli slowed to a stop; Arlo took a few more steps before stopping but he didn't turn around.  "Not that I can tell.  But I'm guessing he's got some sort of influence over YOU and I'm at the center of it, right?"

He sighed heavily, sounding annoyed.  "Yes, unfortunately."  For several moments he stood there silently, then finally turned around to look back at her.  "Nora and I were sort of dating.  I'm not really sure if we were officially a couple or not.  There's...something there, but I don't know what.  The thing is, she broke things off with me last night because of my association with you."

Eli raised an eyebrow at that.  "Don't tell me she thinks you were cheating?"

"No, nothing like that," he answered quickly.  "She's not happy that I'm openly associating with something the Church is so against."

"...the past," Eli sighed; Arlo nodded in response.  "You know that's a bit ridiculous, right?"

"The Church has its views, and I have my own regarding technology from the old world.  I agree that there's a lot of dangerous things left behind from your time period.  But I also agree that not all of it could possibly be bad.  If it was ALL bad I feel like there wouldn't BE a past for us to be studying.  I know Nora strongly believes we shouldn't be using things from the past but I also know she's changed her mind on a few things once she'd directly experienced it or learned about it.   Knowing that, I feel like Lee is responsible for her...stance, I guess, regarding associating with you."

"So confront him about it."

"That's...something I'm considering," he replied after a pause.  "But what I wanted to talk to you about was your own personal experience with Portia's townsfolk.  Gale was pretty direct about wanting to hear about any sort of trouble that Lee is causing, in the context of it causing YOU trouble.  But this doesn't directly affect you in any way, it just affects me.  If it's not your life he's interfering with then I don't know if I should tell Gale and risk rocking the boat."

"I think you should," Eli said, crossing her arms and glancing over a shoulder toward the distant and yet somehow looming pinnacle that the Church sat on.  "If she wanted to break things off it should be HER decision, not because some crusty evangelizer told her to. No preacher or employer or authority figure should be free to meddle to that degree in someone's personal life.  Not to mention that he's just asking for Balance to beckon and Judgement to come reckon..."

Arlo looked briefly confused by that last bit; Eli just shrugged - she could always explain the phrase to him later if he was interested.   "-look, even if it's not affecting me directly it's clear I'm being used as a sort of weapon here.  I could care less if someone is cursing my name up, down, and sideways, but I really don't like the idea that I'm essentially being used as a political bludgeon.  In fact, I think I'LL go talk to Nora and get the real story out of her."

"I'd rather she not know-"

"Do you really think she'd just expect you not to tell anyone?" Eli interrupted.  "Or that no one would notice you two split and not have questions?"

"I... I guess not."  He sighed heavily again and tilted his head back to stare up into the sky.  "I just don't want to cause a rift between anyone."

"Let me see what I can find out and THEN we can decide if we want to rock this particular boat or not.  Might be that IF Lee was behind this, and IF he thinks he got away with it, he might try it again with other people and then THAT might actually affect me directly.  If anything it's worth it to try and stop that before the metaphorical rocking ends up capsizing instead."

Arlo nodded. "All right, I guess.  I'm going to head back to the Corps building.  Let me know what you found out."

"Will do."

They walked back to town in silence and at the base of the hill near the plaza Arlo kept going while Eli took a sharp left to head to the path that spiraled up to where the church sat on top of a ruins (and if it was the location she thought it was it had once been several floors of administrative offices, a number of clothing boutiques, and a ground floor restaurant).  By the time she got to the top and was looking at the church's doors that familiar feeling of nostalgia had hit her...nostalgia felt like a strange emotion to be having but she supposed it was a step up from the usual soul-crushing gut punch she usually got when she let herself think about something she recognized.

"Knock knock, anyone home," she found herself muttering as she shouldered the door open and stepped into the quiet chapel.  

It was nice in here, at least - nothing opulent or over the top.   Pews, carpet down the aisle, banners and a chandelier, stained glass windows and murals on the walls.  There was a fountain near the back wall behind the pulpit (which was just a small podium with a book sitting open on it), and she thought she could see a piano back there too.

The only thing breaking up the silence was the gurgle of water and the rhythmic sounds of sweeping coming from somewhere to her left; Eli walked up the small ramp into the sanctuary proper and from that spot she spied Nora off in the corner with a broom in hand.

The girl looked up to her and Eli saw her tense up.

"Morning. If you've got a moment I'd like to speak with you," Eli said.  Not much of a greeting but the girl already didn't like her so no amount of politeness was probably going to change much.

"I uh...I need to finish sweeping."  The girl was gripping her broom like she thought Eli was going to attack her; Eli wondered what exactly Lee had been telling her.

"That's fine.  I can wait."

It was clear Nora had been hoping Eli would just leave but instead she watched silently as Eli moved a bit further into the room and sat down on the back pew there.  Eli kept looking forward, admiring what she could see of the murals on the nearby wall; eventually she heard the sweeping start up again and could track Nora by sound as the woman finished up in that corner and moved down to the entryway, then back up and across into the corner on the right.  She heard the scrape of a metal dust pan and the clatter of what she guessed was the top of a trash can opening and closing, and then silence.  Eli let the silence stretch on for a bit before turning around; Nora seemed like she was debating whether she should run out the door or not but froze when she noticed Eli looking at her.

"Good to go?"

"Go...where?"

"I figured we could just step outside so if your minister shows up he can't yell at me for being on church property."

Nora inhaled and exhaled slowly then nodded, and mutely headed out the door; Eli followed along as the girl headed off to the right, to a wooden platform that was similar to the other wooden platforms that made up sections of the path that led up here -- it lined up with the path, in fact, and made it look like whoever had built it had intended to keep going up and around into the sky.  She had a slight twinge of discomfort from the fact the platform gave a clear view of the land around Portia which included quite a few destroyed buildings.

 Don't think about it.

"All right," she said then, blowing out a breath.  "I'll get right to it: Arlo told me.  And I want to know if that was YOUR decision or if Lee put you up to it.  Because he's not sure and I'm not happy to be in the middle of this."

Nora winced slightly and rubbed at an arm, and at first didn't respond.  Eli stuck her hand in her pockets and purposely looked to the left and down into the tree farm while trying to ignore the ruined observatory that she could still see out of the corner of her eye.

"We talked about it...and I agreed, so it was my decision," Nora finally said.  "The relics of the past are dangerous, we shouldn't be embracing anything from that time period."

Eli turned her attention back to the girl.  "Including me?"

"It's..."

"Look, I get it - you church folk aren't going to like that I exist. I'm a living reminder of how humanity almost wiped themselves out.  I'm not asking you to like me.  I am asking you if YOU made the decision to break things off with Arlo, on your own, for your own reasons, or if Lee convinced you to do it because in his mind it was the right thing to do because of Arlo's associating with me."

Nora's shoulders slumped a bit and again she was silent for a long period.  "...I guess it's a bit of both.  Lee's said that-"

"-let me stop you right there.  Lee hasn't bothered talking to me, period.  Whatever he's said I intend to do or teach is something he pulled directly out of his own ass."  At that Nora's eyes widened a bit but Eli didn't know if it was due to the language or because of some possibility that she'd exposed Lee for lying.  "Here's the thing.  I know a lot about a lot of dangerous things everyone seems afraid of - AIs, weapons, computers, devices.  Just because I know how something works, or worked, doesn't mean I can replicate it here.  For every one thing I could maybe manage to write up a technical readout for there's fifty others that I can't.  I know how to put a plasma pulse rifle together but I couldn't begin to tell you how to make one starting from a raw material base; I could describe step by step how to troubleshoot an anti-grav propulsion unit but hand me every single separate part, down to the nuts and bolts, and I'd have no clue how to assemble it.  There's a lot of things that, if it already exists, I could probably get it working again but there's no way I could build it from the ground up because even if I knew everything about everything, the fact remains that your technological level just isn't where it needs to be to MAKE anything."

Nora simply stood and listened silently, and was staring at some indeterminate point on the horizon past the tree farm.

"...so," Eli said into the silence that followed.  "Was it Lee, or was it your choice?"

Nora hung her head.  "You already know the answer to that."

"I was hoping I was wrong.  So, barring Lee's meddling, WOULD you have made that choice?"

To her surprise Nora lifted her head and answered immediately.  "Yes.  I think so, anyway.  Just...not like I did, or when I did."

Eli nodded approvingly at the admission.  "All right, we're getting somewhere then.  What's the ACTUAL reasoning then?"

"I just... I don't know.  I'm attracted to him - he's brave, and handsome, and kind. But I feel so...  I love his stories, and love spending time with him, but there's so many times where once he runs out of stories it gets...it's like we run out of things to talk about.  We don't have much in common it seems.  I try to find things to talk about but its usually the same things each time - the weather, the news.  I've even tried telling him about books I like but I feel silly trying to explain an entire book's plot. And..."

Eli raised an eyebrow.  "And?" she prompted - she wasn't going to let her clam up now that the proverbial dam had apparently burst.

"-I was only supposed to stay in Portia for two years.  I asked to stay longer and was granted an extension to my mission with the Church, and while I love Portia I can't stay here forever.  I have schooling to finish in Atara and then I'd like to settle down and start a family, and Arlo wants to join the Flying Pigs and would be traveling all over.  I don't think either of us can stay with the other unless someone wants to give up a dream."

"Aha..." Eli muttered.  "That I can understand.  Mine and my husband's jobs kept us apart quite a bit but neither of us would have ever asked the other one to give up their career."

"How...did it work out, then?"

Eli gave her a small smile.  "We enjoyed every moment we got together, when we had the time. Truth be told, my marriage was arranged - I just got super lucky in that I actually fell in love with the person my parents picked."  At Nora's shocked look she held up a hand.  "I know, it sounds weird - arranged marriages weren't at all popular back then, and were even against the law in a lot of places.  But all the men I was around were all soldiers or rangers, and I didn't want to marry another serviceman.  My parents picked someone I knew in gradeschool so he wasn't a total stranger, and we ended up fitting together nicely."

"Phyllis ran away from an arranged marriage...I didn't think one could be successful."

"Don't get me wrong - I thought long and hard before I asked my parents to do that for me, AND asked them to make it clear to whoever needed to hear it that I wouldn't be putting my boots away if I got married.  It's not something I would ever suggest to another person.   But, to get back on track, I'm only mentioning my marriage and circumstance because it's entirely possible you and Arlo could make it work even if you're apart for long periods of time.  It just boils down to, do you think that's what you'd want?"

Again Nora fell quiet, and Eli stayed where she was while the other walked over to the edge of the platform and leaned against it with  her arms folded across the top plank of the fence. Standing there, in the quiet, Eli could hear footsteps coming up the path and assumed they were about to be interrupted - probably by Lee.  She gave Nora a couple more minutes before clearing her throat to grab her attention.

"Give it some thought, and be honest with yourself.  And when you have your answer, walk your happy little butt down to the Corps building and be honest with Arlo.  You're still welcome to dislike me," Eli added after a moment, smiling slightly.  "I hear someone coming though so I should probably make myself scarce."

"All right...I'll do that," Nora replied, voice quiet.

Eli nodded to her and then turned to plod back down the path.  As she expected she passed Lee coming up; he gave her a brief sour look then turned his nose up to her and sped up to get by her faster.  She managed to keep from rolling her eyes until she had her back to him and once she'd circled around enough to put him entirely out of sight she sped up into a trot -- may as well get her cool down jog done.  She would check in with Arlo later this afternoon instead (it made more sense to give Nora time to go talk to him on her own, before Eli went to tell him what she'd said -- it'd also mean a lot more for him to hear it from Nora).

As she passed under Portia's gate she paused at the split in the road; ordinarily she'd jog down to the harbor and back with the others for their cool down run.  If she hung a right here she'd go up to the tree farm and she could easily keep going and check in at the facility - today was supposed to be one of her free days to do...whatever she felt like, but she didn't have much in mind to do.  Maybe she could get back to rummaging through the spare parts and start the onerous duty of stripping down and re-working the auxiliary power bank to see if they could convert it over to wind power.

Yeah, that would probably be a better use of her time today.

She paused to stretch and then continued on, jogging up the road; there was someone coming down the road toward her - someone she didn't recognize.  She offered the man a smile and moved off the road into the grass, and the man returned the smile and offered a little wave as she went by.

As she got to the tree farm's gate it swung open and out came Dawa, and when he saw her he waved at her and gestured for her to pause.

"Hey, Eli!"

"Hello Dawa.  You need something?"

"Was Selene home when you left?"

"Uh...  I actually have no idea.  I usually get up and out of the house before she does and I spent the morning out exercising with the Corps folks."

Dawa nodded and grunted.  "Ah, all right.  Was hoping to possibly save myself a trip down there.  But no big deal - it's not like I'm walking across the continent," he chuckled.

"I'm just out for a jog, I could turn around and see if she's there and then send her your way."

Dawa considered that a moment, then nodded.  "If you don't mind.   I've got a lot of work I need to get done by tonight and any minute I can save is worth it."

Eli raised an eyebrow.  "Yeah?  Need a hand with anything?"

"Nah, it's just a lot of chopping and getting things delivered on time.  I can manage it...I think."

"Fair enough.  I'll go have a look and come back up this way if she's not there."

"Thanks Eli!" he called after her as she turned around and jogged back down the path.

She caught up to that same man from before on the way back; he'd stopped not too far from where she'd first passed him, and was sitting on a bit of broken stone off the side of the road watching her approach.  With how he had his feet propped up she could see his brown leather boots were worn and had a few holes in them, and they matched his equally worn duster coat; the man himself also looked weathered and old.

"Hello again," she said as she came up.

"Hey," was the man's response.

When she got back to the house she did in fact find Selene working in her factory and let her know Dawa was looking for her.  She got a sort of distracted, non-committal promise to go talk to him and then Eli left the builder to whatever it was she was piecing together and once again jogged up the path toward the tree farm.

The man was still sitting there; he'd taken his coat off and had it draped over the rock beside him.  His clothes were baggy but were in considerably better condition than his coat and boots were.

"You stuck in a rut?" was the man's gravelly greeting as she jogged near him for a third time.

She laughed quietly.  "Just playing messenger for a bit."

She heard him chuckling behind her as she kept going; it didn't take long to let Dawa know Selene would be along in a bit and then she continued on out to the facility.  Down there it was easy to lose track of time and before she knew it it was early evening - far later than she'd actually intended to be down here...she REALLY needed to recreate a damn Hi-Def or, bare minimum, get a pocket watch or something.

At the very least the tourist man wasn't still sitting on his rock when she went by there again; she did spot him sitting at the nearest booth in the Round Table though, and offered him a nod when she thought he was looking her way.  He didn't respond but that wasn't a big deal - at least no one could claim she wasn't friendly to strangers.  

"Eli!"

She paused, halfway to a stool at the counter, and turned when she heard Arlo.  He looked to be in better spirits and was waving her over to the table where he, Remington, Asher, and Petra were sitting together.

As she headed over Arlo slid to the side to make room for her on the end of the couch next to him and Petra shifted around to the other side; in the few seconds it took to cross the room and sit down Sonia had come over to the table for her order.  Remington, Petra, and Asher all had half-finished drinks in front of them.

"Did you find that sensor thing you were looking for?" Asher asked as she sat down.

"Nope," she answered.  "Granted, I didn't spend too much time looking for it though.  Started in on tearing down the aux unit and making a list of what needs replacing.  We're going to need an amp converter for sure but I'm fairly confident we can manage to make it work."

"That's good news," Petra said.  "We already have the wind generator blueprints and have several up near South Block that are working just fine.  If you can give us an idea of the power output that's needed we can see if we need to alter those blueprints."

"I'm still working on that.  The main hitch is deciding what numbers to use and how to get them - we won't be using the same amount of power that the facility did in its hey day but I also don't know of any other number to use just yet.  I might have to ask Stewart to set aside a week and just run everything from lights to toasters down there to see what consumption level it can even hit, then add some zeroes to account for potential future increases and then see what I get."

Petra nodded.  "That makes sense. I just hope the wind coming down from the bluffs would be enough."

"Well, if its not sufficient then my backup plan was water turbines instead.  There's that waterfall that's not too far away...biggest hurdle then would be waterproofing all the equipment."

At that Petra rubbed at her chin.  "Water turbines and waterproofing... It might work so long as we can avoid altering Portia's water quality."

"Shouldn't be any different from the motorized boats I see out in the harbor with the exception that there won't be any fuel runoff in the equation," Eli replied.  "That ought to make it pretty clean."

Further discussion was interrupted as Sonia and Django brought out all of their orders together and they got to eating; when they finished Petra and Asher excused themselves, paid, and headed out.  As Remington ordered a second lemonade Eli subtly leaned toward Arlo.

"Did she come find you?" It was barely above a whisper, and neither Sonia nor Remington seemed to have heard it.

Arlo nodded.  "She did.  We worked it out.  Still friends."  His voice was equally as quiet.

Eli straightened and flashed him a brief smile - she didn't need details; she was just glad Nora had followed through and Eli wouldn't have to have that conversation in her stead.

"So..." Arlo said then, voice loud and clear.  "I hear I missed learning what a burpee is."

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

The three of them ended up sitting and chatting for quite awhile, then moved on to the back room for a couple games of darts (Remington won every single game).  As they'd stood and headed back Eli again nodded to the old man in the booth and this time got a half wave and smile in response. When they came out of the game room later the man was still there nursing a single coffee.  He offered them a quiet good evening and was digging in his coat pocket for gols as they were filing out through the door.

"Any plans for tomorrow?" Arlo asked, as they stood together just beyond the edge of the extended patio roof outside of the Round Table.

"Sleeping, hopefully," Remington chuckled.

Eli shrugged. "Not really.  I was thinking of seeing if Selene had a rod and reel I can borrow.  I'm determined to see a live frog fish for myself - it's still so hard to wrap my head around the idea of bizarre animal hybrids."

"You should talk to Qiwa - I'm sure he'd be happy to tell you all about the native fish in this region," Remington said.  "He's the one who usually wears purple, if that helps."

She considered that a moment, then nodded; on her To Do list was checking with the local school to see if they had books they could lend her on wildlife, geography, and cultures of the current time period but she kept forgetting about it until it was too late in the evening to catch anyone there.  "Probably a good idea.  I need to start making time to learn about the world as it is, instead of focusing on telling everyone on how it was."  She paused for a breath then looked to Arlo.   "If you'd like to make up for today I'll have time tomorrow."

"Sounds good.  In the morning, as usual?"

"Works for me.  See you tomorrow," she said, smiling and heading off.

The lights were still on in Selene's factory - had she ever gone to talk to Dawa?  Eli hoped so.  Inside the house it was quiet; Eli took a quick bath and tiptoed into her room wrapped in just a towel.  Her pajamas were not on the edge of her bed though, which where she swore she'd left them this morning.  Maybe she'd overshot the edge when she'd tossed them there?  As she came around to the other side of the bed to check she saw a strange pink lump partially sticking out from under the bedskirt, and under it was a single pajama pantleg.

She reached out with one bare foot, grabbed the pantleg fabric with her toes, and pulled; sliding out from under the bed came the biggest, roundest, pinkest cat she'd ever seen.  It was lounging on top of her pajamas and seemed not at all disturbed by the fact it had been dragged out of its little hiding spot.

"...excuse me, who are you and also I need those."  Eli had to let the towel flap open as she bent down to roll the rather sausage-shaped cat off her clothing; when she had retrieved the pajamas she dropped the towel over the animal and heard a rather confused "mrrp" noise from under it.

Selene hadn't mentioned that she owned a cat, much less a neon pink one.

The world was a very weird place nowadays.

[kittymaverick]

Mystery Case Files 21: The Harbinger commentary and review, part 2.

outSpoiler free review first: Holy SHIT GRANDMA studios, talk about knocking the ball out of the park. Not only was that a solid good MCF game to start off with, you’ve now set up the expectation for the next game so high, I’m honestly a little afraid for you. Like... do you know how high the bar is now that you’ve hinted about the content of the next game? Right, coming back to Harbinger for a second. Barring one tiny little slip up which I think was just something that got lost in translation (English is like that), the lore of MCF managed to stay intact, which needs to be applauded. At one point, I almost questioned if there might be almost too many references, especially with that happens to the references in the game itself. (Yes, I, the MCF nerd and fanatic, actually had that thought). I still flip-flop a bit on whether this was a good execution, or a good but shaky execution. For one thing, the way it’s executed... wow, that’s some heavy stuff emotionally. Which is why I’m questioning if that’s “good”, because I suppose there was a line of emotional heaviness I didn’t expect we’ll cross in MCF, but GRANDMA took it there. And so far... part of me is guiltily okay with it, but wow... The studio’s art style does suggest that a detraction from from MCF’s usual Elizabethan English Horror Story with a side of Soul Steampunk and Celtic Druidism would not necessarily be a bad thing. That GRANDMA chose otherwise though, and stuck with a very, very MCF story (albeit more limited to the Celtic legends part), takes guts. What I do wish we’ll get, after the next game, is a story line that’s a GRANDMA original, sort of like Eipex’s the Black Veil, because I think the studio has potential in creating something that’s more them without pulling away too much from MCF. Anyway, that’s the spoiler free review part. Back to my spoiler filled commentary!

Aisling: I know I act suspicious, but I’m just a psychic! MD: I know I’m just a detective, but people keep dying around me, so hey, we’ve got that in common. Aisling: James gave me this cube by the way-- huh? *Emblem of MD appears* ...I’m sorry, that ancient celtic emblem... has a bloody hat. It has a bloody hat. I’m DYING.

Realized I jumped back too far to do this retroactive commentary. Oops.

MD: Okay, well, maybe he isn’t dead yet. We could probably dig him out-- *Nigel turns to bone* MD: ...Never mind. He’s beyond saving. Someone get the coroner!

Six thousand mirrors in the room, and not one shows your face. MD: A technique I have perfected over the two decades of my career. Didn’t save you from getting married to a homicidal madman though. MD: ...I don’t think he picked me because of my looks to begin with.

...Hey MD, I know paper work wasn’t exactly involved and all, but did you actually divorce Charles, or did you just betray him? MD: *DEATH GLARE* You know what, pretend I never asked. MD: You’d better.

MD: Let’s see what skeletons Nigel has in his closet. You know, the last time you found skeletons in a closet, quite literally... MD: Shut up, I was trying not to think about that! (This happened in Key to Ravenhearst. The Skeleton was Charles and Victor.)

Okay, so James was a MCF fanboy, Marge you met on one of your American trips, Nigel was a Fate Carney, John worked on a restored Ravenhearst. I don’t want to say her Majesty might have under exaggerated the number of keywords there were going on here... MD: Oh no, she definitely made it out to be less important than it seemed. She also definitely sent me in because the report she’s going to get out of this is going to be spectacular. The idea that HRM might be the ultimate MCF fan in-universe tickles me with delight. MD: And fills me with utter dread.

Nigel’s shadow puppet theatre: I got fired from the carnival! Boo! MD: Nigel, getting fired from Fate’s Carnival probably saved your ass. Temporarily, until whatever is going on here got you. MD: .................... What? Oh... MD: Yeah. Oh geez I’m looking forward to the case after this now! 8D MD: Why is it that the more I’m tortured, the more gleeful you are?

*Telephone rings* MD: Hello? Marge: HELP ME SOMETHING IS HERE AAAAHHH Well shit. MD: Yeah, she’s done for. Let’s go see the body.

*Gibs collects collectibles before going to body* *I die laughing because that’s my priority too*

MD: Oh no Marge I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you in time... ...Yeah right, says the person who doesn’t want to get their hand on the black stuff. MD: Look, my sorrow doesn’t in anyway override my desire for hygiene, okay? Reminds me of that one time I called some detectives from the last century dandies for refusing to stick their hand into a barrel of rainwater...

MD can I point out how you’re making detailed sketches of MARGE’S BODY in your journal? MD: Look it’s this or pyromania, okay? Don’t judge me. Also, I’m starting to think people that meet you on your cases shouldn’t bother locking their diaries. You always manage to crack them open.

Marge: Oh James is such a darling, I should get him to marry my daughter, then I’ll be such a happy mother-in-law. .............................. MD: ...................... Well, um, I guess Marge was a cougar on the inside, maybe? MD: Yeah, let’s phrase it like that (Restrain desire to make crude NSFW jokes...)

Marge: DAMN THAT GIRL FOR STEALING MY BOY. Marge, seriously, there’s officer Davis. I’m sure he’s just as nice! MD: And not on anyone’s death list. For now. MD: Don’t say that...

Davis: Well, I guess that’s one more evidence against Aisling. HOLD IT! MD: This note here shows clearly that Marge intended to frame Aisling for an attack on her! And the diary entries clearly document how much she hates the suspect. Therefore, the evidence shouldn’t be permissible-- Davis: Yeah, but Marge is dead, and there really isn’t anyone else in town left. *Record scratch* MD: ....It could be... you? Davis: Harhar, look here’s the evidence, go talk to Aisling. MD: Urgh, fine. It’s okay, MD, I was rooting for you there at least!

Aisling: Death, death is all around us! *Flees* MD: Okay, Aisling, that’s really not helping and only making you more suspicious! But since you’re away, I’m going to rifle through your trailer. Um, now who’s suspicious???

Hm, you know, this place would have been great for a holiday spot. MD: I don’t know, given my records with holidays... ...True, you’ll probably end up doing exactly what you are doing now. MD: That said, I think I’ll take a slice of apple pie since no one’s looking. Does the agency pay for your food on your cases? MD: They’d better because I’m giving the recipes to Her Majesty if they don’t...

Aisling: I came here to save John but he’s locked upstairs, please help! MD: Um, if you had let me come with you... maybe some time could have been saved? Aisling: But what if I get killed first then? MD:........ She’s got a point. MD: Dammit, fine...

Hm, so John’s ancestor worked on the original Ravenhearst... We’ll probably need to open up the original game to see if that was the guy that fell from the construction site. (My guess is it’s not, because that carpenter was originally meant to be Rose Summerset’s husband, so it should have been Summerset. Plus Rose’s kids were the twins and Victor.)

Oh damn, a model of Ravenhearst-- MD: Hm, it’s missing a weather vane. ........... MD: Look, just because I burn the place down several times, doesn’t mean I don’t care what it looks like, okay? Can you point out the window that you escaped out of by any chance? 8D MD: *sighs* This one...

Aisling: John, NOOOOOO. MD: Right, gotta cut him down quick! He might still be alive. *Proceed to spend over minutes solving puzzles* MD: I swear, this happened very fast in actuality... Never as fast as the plot demanded though...

*Puts weather vane on model* *Model turns into a raven* MD: ???????????????? Okay, I need to take points off for THAT ridiculous transformation and animation. XD

Aisling: I can’t take this anymore! MD: I know this is hard, Aisling-- Aisling: Here’s the next slab, btw. ....This mood whiplash... I’m dying.

Um, so apparently the banshee wasn’t trying to destroy the world, but was trying to restore herself, which... you disrupted. MD: Look, Allison and her friends needed rescuing okay? I couldn’t just sit idling by. ...If that was disrupted, then how DID Aisling turn human then??? MD: .....Let’s save that mystery for another time because I feel a headache incoming... (Fix edit: It seems to imply that the ritual was only disrupted, not failed, so Aisling did get her skin back, though now she doesn’t remember being a banshee...)

Aisling: I’m a banshee? That’s... That’s impossible. MD: Well, I’ve been through a lot to say most impossible things are actually probable in reality, though if you somehow don’t remember me shoving you back into the cave, um, then I’m grateful. Once you do, please don’t kill me. BTW, your turn on the cube of mystery!

Aisling: Well, if I’m a banshee, I guess I should go back to Dire Grove. We can catch the next ferry. MD: You know that’s a really long trip right? It might take us the better half of a day-- Or a single puzzle’s worth of time. MD: ...Where was THAT kind of fast travel all these years??? I do like how it’s implied that you guys had a huge detour with picking people up and dropping them off though.

Ais: Okay, we’re here in Dire Grove-- AH! MD: Wow, even nature is saying NO to you. Ooooooor it could be a certain immortal druid-- MD: Please don’t. It’s fine! We have a banshee. MD: All she does is predict death! Oh yeah, forgot about that...

*Aisling gets “kidnapped” by green energy* Gibs: That can’t be healthy. MD: That’s honestly pretty normal at this point for us. At least she didn’t get dropped down a tube.

Um, what’s with the Chinese incense in a Druid’s domain? X’D (I’m going to pretend they traded that...)

(I honestly don’t have a lot of stuff to comment on in the section in Dire Grove, because there isn’t much to snark about. Which, I guess, comes to show that 99% of silliness comes from MD dealing with PEOPLE, alive, dead, revived, or otherwise not really a human.)

*Aisling goes back to banshee form* MD: First, no hard feelings about last time, right? Aisling: *stares* MD: Please, thank you, and I’m sorry??? Aisling: You did help me out, so I guess it’s fine. MD: *sigh of relief* BTW, four people technically did DIE though in the process. Aisling: Um, that wasn’t me, if you recall your lore correctly. MD: True enough, but STILL. Just pointing it out. You want her to scream in your ear? She’s still got time for that.

Aisling: BTW, this energy is still floating about. And I think I know why. Will you accept this energy and use it to save the world? MD: Oh hold ON a minute. You want ME to do WHAT? Aisling: Save the world. You heard what I said. MD: Okay, listen. I started this detective job mostly because I thought it was cool... (MD’s going to be at this for a while. Are you going to listen, Aisling? A: To be honest, I’ll probably stop around the part where MD apologized for shoving me back into the cave... By the way, want to hear my part of the story on how I turned back into a banshee? Sure!) *****************************************************************

HOW AISLING BECAME A BANSHEE, AGAIN. Aisling: To make a long story short, there was a lot of puzzles Puzzles which you had to personally solve, without MD’s help? Aisling: It really makes you appreciate how hard MD has had it for the last 21 years...

Did... did you just KILL four people to restore your spirit? Aisling: I just helped their soul cross over! I swear! Aisling, you’re being really SUS right now and I’ve practice how to spot a liar lately! Aisling: I only predict deaths! And then find the souls and tell them where to go. I swear that’s my task. EVERYONE VOTE AISLING AISLING IS THE IMPOSTER

Is one of your abilities literally “summon joyride”???? Aisling: it’s a carriage A carriage can be an awesome joyride if you use it irresponsibly Aisling: How does MD tolerate you? They don’t, they’ve just had worse company and I’m a lesser evil. 8D

Aisling (actually Gibs): *suffers through the last giant super puzzle* ...Yeah, REALLY makes you appreciate what MD goes through. Aisling: Is it always this bad??? Sometimes. I’ve seen worse.

Gibs: THAT CARRIAGE IS BADASS. See, I told you it was a joyride. Aisling: You know, I think I’ll float back to the MD. No joyrides. Awwwwwwwwwwww... Okay, now let’s rewind back to when MD started their rant. **************************************************

Aisling: BTW, this energy is still floating about. And I think I know why. Will you accept this energy and use it to save the world? MD: Oh hold ON a minute. You want ME to do WHAT? Aisling: Save the world. You heard what I said. MD: Okay, listen. I started this detective job mostly because I thought it was cool, and it was for the first couple of cases where all I had to deal with was bust the criminal organization STAIN and recover the Hope diamond for the Queen. But then that’s where all my trouble started because she sent me to this creepy manor which turned out to be a prison to not one, not two, but FOUR ghosts. What’s even worse is the first time I went, I thought I only had to rescue Emma. I was wrong, and for the longest time, I thought Fate Carnival folks were dying from my mistake. Turns out later it was completely personal. This was everything that happened before I met YOU. (Again, really sorry about kicking you back into the cave and getting you stuck in the situation you were in in the last who knows how many years...) Afterwards, I went to the Louisiana which got me on the bad side of a certain ghost pirate, who turned out to be the grandfather of the guy killing the carney folks from his mother’s side. Which was why he was killing them by the way. She sold him to Fate’s Carnival. Anyway, after figuring out that I’ve dun goofed, I went back to Ravenhearst manor, which turned out there was a WHOLE OTHER SECTION I didn’t discover last time, which was somehow a very personalized and twisted marriage proposal that I didn’t notice until too late. I burned THAT down for good measure before taking a break in some place near a lake. But then that guy’s FATHER took up issue with what I did, which I didn’t even started, to be honest. He tried to kill me for whatever grudge it was that he had. I had to stab his horocrux with my badge to get him to stop that time. But then it turns out that father ALSO has some offspring here in Dire Grove, and I had to come back to prevent THAT from going down in flames as well. Thankfully, I think they remained sane. I can’t say the same for the twins, who turned out to be the evil guy’s kids. They most definitely went insane, and REMADE Ravenhearst, which I had to burn down for THE THIRD TIME. All that plus the jump I took landed me in an asylum, which turned out to be the one where both the evil bald guy and his dad was imprisoned once upon a time. Of course, the guy’s father tried to kill me, AGAIN. Took care of that, and also removed the shard that was driving me bonkers. It only gets worse from here though. I got chased around by an woman with a clock for her heart who I had to defenestrate out a clock tower. She didn’t stab me, but then the guy who probably ENGINEERED MY ENTIRE LIFE did, because apparently he wanted to use my soul’s virtue to anchor death to the mortal world or something. I got an immortality feather out of that, I guess, so it wasn’t too bad, but I basically DIED. And then afterwards there was that undead guy who was really hung up about his biker jacket. Next was the evil guy’s ancient youngest son nearly destroying the world (4th wall break: THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT) trying to revive him which thankfully DIDN’T HAPPEN BECAUSE OH GODS I WOULD HAVE DIED FOR REAL ON THE SPOT IF IT DID, FEATHER OR NOT. Then a creepy woman in a mirror had to be locked back into the mirror dimension. And that’s when my agency had a fucking SECURITY BREACH which turned out to have been in the making for YEARS. And then the pirate guy came back and nearly enslaved me. I had to blow up his ship and exorcise him from this world. And AFTER all of that, I was finally sent to Blackmoor, where I met YOU, and also saw a bunch of people marginally related to me die from a cause we still don’t have any answers for. *DEEP INHALE*

Aisling: Okay, so your point is.... MD: My POINT is.... out of ALL the sane and wholesome people in the world who don’t have ANY BAGGAGE whatsoever, why do I, the Master Detective, have to be the one to save the world here-- Charles: Hello. MD: *SCREEEEEEECH*

CHARLES IT’S BEEN FOREVER-- wait, you’re not here to serve the divorce papers are you? Charles: Of course not. I’m asking MD to come back home with me. MD: WHAT?! Charles: Where else would I welcome you back to? *Evil cackle* ......... 8D8D8D8D8D8D8D8D Aisling: ........... :| :| :| :| :| :| :| :| :| MD: .................D:< D:< D:< D:< D:< D:< D:< MD: Aisling, hand that energy over, I’ve a WORLD TO BURN.

I have to point this out... the last time we saw Charles IN THE FLESH in game, was Escape from Ravenhearst, which was NINE YEARS AGO, likely TEN by the time Crossfade comes out. Happy Tenth Anniversary of your wedding, Master Detective? 8D

MD: AS IF.

[darkestwolfx]

The Man From TB5 - Re-Review #46

Definitely another strong favourite today!

Let me take you back to one of Lady Penelope’s main episodes from TOS - ‘The Man From MI5′. Nice play on the title here. But, when we might have expected this to be a job for Gordon, it’s actually one for er- John?

P.S. Did you know O’Hagan and Aisling made a Thunderbirds Picture Storybook edition?

So yes, after all the asking, it’s John, and she is sticking with John. Gordon really must be gutted. This scene was absolutely golden as well.

“Did I hear party? Do you need a date? I could be there in no time! (Scott, let me borrow Thunderbird One).”

“Thank you Gordon, but I already have a date.”

“John?”

“No way! You actually got him to leave Thunderbird Five.”

“Mmmm...”

“He wanted it kept quiet.”

“But I’m the obvious choice! John hates social... anything. Besides, whose gonna’ do space monitor duty?”

“Funny you should mention that.”

“I had to ask.”

“Walked into that one!”

“And who do you think’s taking him up there?”

“Uhh... Ohhh.”

Also, I like the fact that Lady Penelope has a wildlife preserve.

Yes, the date is none other than John. Not a second of doubt that he can handle a ‘little’ social situation.

“Speaking of amazing how do you like that custom tuxedo I designed? Didn’t you notice all the cool hidden functions? Like the radio in your collar.”

“This isn’t a spy mission, Brains.”

I don’t know, John, you are with the UK’s top spy.

“It’s just a quiet, little charity auction.”

“I may haveunderstand the quiet part, a bit.”

“hAnd the little.”

Yeah, thanks for that Parker! So the only part she actually told him about correctly was that it’s a charity auction. Thankful for that radio now, John?

“John, are you alright?”

“I thought there’d be less this. People. Talking. In person. I mean communications is my job, I talk to people from all over the world, I’d just rather do it from space.”

I think John could be socially autistic.

Look at Sherbet though, sitting so happily on Penelope’s arm.

“Place like this his ha ‘ot-bed for pick pockets. hIn my day, this would ‘ave been ha gold mine.”

“No one will be picking anyone’s pockets tonight.”

“Not while hI’m hon watch duty, M’Lady.”

Definitely famous last words. Wait for it.

I love how one minute Lady Penelope is pulling John away from people and telling him who to talk to, and then the next just walks off and leaves him to fend for himself.

“Did I mention the cufflinks?”

“Will they make me invisible to crowds?”

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

Because you are not John who is currently very desperate to disappear from the face of the Earth.

Also, I love how Scott has a laptop. Obviously he’s doing Tracy Industry work today.

“What exactly do you do, Dear boy?”

And could you be any more patronising? I mean, go on, give it a try.

Did I see Kat in crowd as well?

And the focus on the food? It was spot on really. It’s the little things that help to make episodes like this. This episode had a great balance of humour and tense moments, with a brilliant rescue, a great appearance by The Hood and a very nice view of a different side to John.

With some absolutely brilliant moments by Parker. Only he and Sherbet could end up in a fight with kitchen staff in a Chateau kitchen at a party whilst he’s meant to be looking out for pick pockets.

“Wonderful party isn’t it?”

“’ey? ‘e’s cheered hup. No kitchen staff? Goood grief, hit’s-”

“You weren’t supposed to see that!”

“hIndeed. Now, drop that weapon, hor hI’ll be hobliged to serve you ha Parker ‘aymaker.”

And they actually showed more of the ‘fight’ than I expected them to. I mean, hitting someone’s head with multiple saucepans..? Because that’s PG.

“Welcome everyone, and- *Clatters* - And, they’re obviously preparing our very delicious desert.”

It’s a good thing she can talk her way out of almost anything.

“One million.”

Just throw and smash your glass... yes, that’s exactly what I would do at a formal charity auction. As I’m sure we all would.

“And how does he expected to pay for it? By robbing us?”

“That’s exactly right.”

“The Hood...”

“Pick pockets!”

Yes, Parker, they made it past you. Just.

“What makes you think I’ll willingly give you any of my money, hey?”

“I placed laser cutters on the cables, that hold up this Chateau. Would you like a demonstation?”

Why did you even say anything man?

“This one doesn’t show up on the system.”

“Who exactly are you?”

“Me? I uh...”

I did find it hard to believe that The Hood wouldn’t recognise John though. I mean, he’s even been to Tracy Island, he’s seen their portraits. I know John looks a little different in a suit, but still. I mean, it does look like The Hood is considering him, but I still think there would have been recognition there.

“If I could get outside, I could try and disable them.”

“You’ll need a distraction. Parker?”

“Right ‘away, M’Lady. hOi! hIf you’re gonna rob hus, hat least ‘ave the decency to serve proper canapes!”

Now chair throwing! This is perfect! Exactly my type of party.

Oh Bottomsly really is an idiot. I mean the name did hint.. A candlelabra? Great choice of weapon. TAG really risked their Universal rating on this one.

“Fool! You’ve activated the laser cutters!”

For once, and only once, I agree with The Hood. Bottomsly, you are a fool.

“This place is doomed!”

“And so are you!”

Well... nearly. When have we ever known The Hood not to have some kind of escape plan at the ready? I mean, he did in ‘Legacy’ and he really should have been done for then.

Nice of him to give us a little bow as well.

Now to go off topic for two seconds and see if I can give anyone a laugh for today;

You know what, I will give you the two images that popped into my head during this scene, particularily from the above photo.

1. Titanic. Iconic moment that I need not say more on. I will advise though that I’m not really a fan of this film, so I don’t quite know why it came to me.

2. Richard III (Ian McKellen’s version) - where, defeated Richard III falls into the fire below, arms wide and smiling. I never really understood this version of the film. It’s set in Nazi Germany... I will say no more.

“Hairstyle not recognised. And not very stylish.”

“We speak of this to no one.”

“To the rocket!”

Oh my gosh, the humour with this pair and EOS (finally someone wrote an episode with EOS)! This was so so needed in this episode and had me in fits.

“I’d like to see the reports for myself.”

“I’m not sure you’d understand them. But I’ve found a wonderful puppet show you might find entertaining.”

Best thing is - I reckon Gordon would have really liked that puppet show.

“Gordon to John. You’re AI is being evil again.”

I wouldn’t quite say this counts as evil, Gordon, more like mean, but your choice of words.

“EOS?”

“It’s not me this time!”

“This time?”

Oopps, nearly gave it away.

“I mean... How can I assist?”

See, there you go! Bond over your love for John. Probably the only thing (besides humour) that these two have in common. It was also really nice to see Gordon in Thunderbird Five. He never made it up there in TOS.

“I’d still take this over the crowds.”

John really does have a better head for heights than I do then.

“Scott, we need you now!”

Yep... like overdue need you that should have been.

“John, I’m on my way.”

“Pursue The Hood.”

“FAB.”

Yeah, because Kayo does the Bad Guy Chasing not the Rescuing.

“You expect me to slide down that wire? What, in a dining chair?

“No, Bottomsly, I expect you to help the others first. And if you’re lucky, you’ll get to leave before this whole place falls down on your head like a rock!”

Maybe a little harsher than it needed to be said like, but it did need saying. I love how Sherbet gets to go first!

“All I need is money!”

Don’t we all at the moment, Hood. Care to share?

“Surely you have something up your sleeve?”

“Actually I do. Brains said something about cufflinks.”

And probably should have finished explaining about them.

“He put a laser up my sleeve!”

That could have gone very wrong.

“Hang tight, I’m coming to get ya’.”

Did Scott forget to say that he meant that literally?

“John! No!”

“I got you, party boy.”

Kind of you to save your brother from possible death.

“Thanks, Scott. Just put me down anywhere. Anywhere but here!”

I love how John was desperate enough to try and climb away! That was a little mean of Scott to try it though.

“Much happreciation for fishing FAB hOne hout hof the sea.”

I love Parker’s priorities! In fact, there might be a fanfiction coming based of this. Stay tuned.

“I’ve been sent dozens of messages inviting the mysterious hero to parties everywhere. Shall I forward them?”

To Gordon, maybe?

“It’s a chance to see the world.”

“Thanks, but the world looks just fine from Thunderbird Five.”

Couldn’t agree more. I’d love to hace that view.