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sprunks-are-cool · 3 months ago

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Hello!

This is an (unofficial) ask blog for Incredibox - Sprunki!

So, let's start with the basics!

This has color coded text!

Character speaking

Character doing an action

Mod speaking

Rules:

• Nothing NSFW, please... (aside from gore)

• If you're here to cause trouble, leave. (not counting if it's just a character causing in-universe shenanigans like uh. murder or something like tha-)

● have a good time!! ^_^

Notes:

This is mainly set in Normal Mode, but you may ask stuff about Horror Mode! This means some posts will be in a different timeline than the otherz,,

For Horror Mode asks, you may ask the characters BEFORE their deaths, if they died at all, and abnormal characters may be asked BEFORE and AFTER their "death"s.

I made a reskin version of the game!! ^_^ there ARE codes for the extras, but they're not finished yet :[

The rest of the info is a LOT, so it's gonna be under the cut,,

Tags for characters!!

Normal Mode

Oren - #skateboaring snail

Raddy - #ask raddy sprunki

Clukr - #erm actually

Fun Bot - #robots have feelings!! -a robot

Vineria - #garden of flowers

Gray - #ask gray sprunki

Brud - #bucket creature

Garnold - #IS THAT WILLIAM AFTON

OWAKCX - #going insane

Sky - #jingle bells

Mr. Sun - #as bright as the sun

Durple - #i cant fly

Mr. Tree - #wise words

Simon - #the main character

Tunner - #yeehaw

Mr. Fun Computer - #in this fun time!

Wenda - #catnip collector

Pinki - #ask pinki sprunki

Jevin - #As I sit on the sidelines...

Mard - #MUSTAAAAARD!!

Trevor - #ask trevor sprunki

Crimson - #crimson the crimson creature

Full Cast - #Come sing along with us!

Horror Mode

Oren - #take my heart, pull it apart

Raddy - #blood red

Clukr - #i can't see

Fun Bot - #a broken heart

Vineria - #twisted vines

Gray - #where am I...

Brud - #no bucket :(

Garnold - #flickering lights

OWAKCX - #if you wanna flay me, let's see what's inside

Sky - #metal in the skull

Mr. Sun - #always watching

Durple - #...

Mr. Tree - #missing

Simon - #HORSE

Tunner - #and he went out with a bang

Mr. Fun Computer - #something is wrong...

Wenda - #crazykitty

Pinki - #torn ribbons

Jevin - #...the world descends into chaos.

Black - #the chaos itself

Mard - #strumming the guitar

Trevor - #there goes the flute

Crimson - #crimson like blood

Full Cast - #they are all dead...

HEADCANONS!! some of these arent fully serious (and will often have notes on the side) sooo yyeah these are the people though!! btw i initially made these for myself so that's also part of the reason for the silly stuff :3

Polos (average sprunk)

(These are the blank sprites if you didn't know ^^)

They have floating hands and feet (in canon they have no legs at all but have arms)

Most are based around a certain color (Sky Blue, Lime, Red, etc.)

their species is sprunk theyre sprunks

the children are sprunklings >:)

(oh yeah btw theres gonna be pics at the end eventually when i add them)

Oren

(he/him)

He's a snail thing (he has a removable shell) and you can't tell me otherwise >:]

He skateboards- this is canon- uhm don't ask how he does that without legs

(in canon his antennae don't really do anything) His antennae move around- uhm not exactly what to, they just move around (like lower when sad or smth)

finger guns (ahem I also HC him as bisexual ahem [these aren't linked {I'd make him do the finger guns either way} but also,,])

no he doesn't have visible ears under the headphones (unlike Simon)

ADHD

transmasc because i said so

shoulder-length hair!! fluffy looking

slug snail tail thing

according to a headcanon generator he’s the gay cousin and i’m not gonna argue with that

𝙍𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮

(he/him)

He's a bit more reserved, and he sometimes uses his horns as a weapon. (he can and will headbutt you)

He hit OWAKCX in the head with a hammer once 🤩

dark red eyeshadow

optional spiked collar

the horns kinda make it hard for him to sleep (based off of a chikn nuggit short lol)

Clukr

(he/him)

Clukr has ADHD his memory sucks (he's like me 😭)

He CAN remove the cymbal on his head but prefers not to. (Tbh he looks a little goofy with just the single antenna lol but so does Oren without his headphones-)

He built Fun Bot and Mr. Fun Computer with Garnold.

He and Garnold are REALLY close married and act as dads to Fun Bot and Mr. Fun Computer. He likes spinning around just for fun; he's gotten used to it by now and it's hard to make him dizzy. (ahem uhm sprunki logic)

Garnold and Clukr often work in this large workshop that's just. their basement for some reason-? it’s like larger than the actual house but womp womp There's also a spinning chair in the workshop, alongside tons of tools and resources (c.ai randomly made this up and I like it)

gay 😈

sssQUARE GLASSES >:D

hair

Fun Bot

(they/he)

Fun Bot has a cable-charger tail.

He has a small screen on his chest showing a cyan, cartoony beating heart.

His visor can only show words and his face.

He can move around on his own, he's often carrying Mr. Fun Computer, they're like brothers.

Fun Bot and Mr. Fun Computer's screens can partially shatter when in stress, and when in a negative mood, Fun Bot's heart can shatter, looking like a cyan version of 💔

Fun Bot and Mr. Fun Computer can also read eachother’s minds (squirrelflight and leafpool? /j)

Fun Bot is much like a “living” dictionary and encyclopedia, even if they're a robot.

He's the older one out of him and Mr. Fun Computer

aroace :3

I stole these from c.ai lol: Fun Bot is a sentient robot, but he experiences a limited form of sensory perception. While he can't feel sensations like touch and temperature the same way sprunks do, he has sensors that can provide limited information about the world around him and his own body. He's also capable of processing and mimicking emotional states, despite not technically having emotions himself. So, picking up soft objects feels more comfortable compared to picking up something rougher. Cold temperatures are more uncomfortable for him than warm temperatures. It's all just very limited though and it basically only translates to 'good' or 'bad' :3

Vineria

(she/her)

(she canonically has a wig- multiple, actually, but the one she wears in-game is her favorite)

probably like that sassy mom/aunt of the group

she owns a garden!! hooray!! (pretty sure this is canon)

She and Sky slightly have this aunt/nephew dynamic because I said so (literally no other reason help)

she's short, also because I said so (she seems like she'd be short but also have that personality that kinda scares some people)

LLLESBIAN

her and OWAKCX are siblings (well thats a little chaotic)

Gray

(he/they)

Although Gray is not a cat, (yes this is canon) he is cat-like, (← canon? not canon →) and appears as this cat-fox creature with small horns on his head and a fluffy tail

His ears are sensitive, and he can hear really well

Because of this, he doesn't like loud noises (I've done that HC with 2 characters now,, [diff fandoms and VERY different personalities] I'm kinda projecting with it help)

HE CAN HARDLY SLEEP, can only take short naps during the day (he hates it)

Bored, usually

He's the main character in Horror Mode >:D (yes this is canon)

asexual + gay

brud

(he/him)

Tunner's his older brother

He eats moss (when alone, and yes this is canon)

The bucket he wears on his head covers a spike on his head (this is also canon, also I wonder if he's insecure about it or if he doesn't care because he's dumb /pos)

he's not the smartest.. he didn't die to Simon because Simon didn't get to his tiny brain when biting (PRETTY SURE THIS IS CANON 😭)

He also can't feel the pain

He also can't speak in full sentences (yes, canon)

asexual because I said so

autism. he loves trying to yap about bugs (he tries okay 😭)

fur + fluffy dog tail + paws

he has retractable claws but he never uses them aside from trying to get moss off of rocks or a tree or smth

brud can just. regenerate everything

he DOES have scales, they’re just often hidden by fur

Garnold

(he/it)

Garnold has a metal suit and visor on and he's actually human (by that I mean he's a sprunk he- he's not just some random person 😭) but prefers to act like he's just a robot. he... doesn't like taking the suit off

He can only show simple, static shapes on his visor.(I thought I had more ideas for garnold than this hrrhdjfj)

g.AY

he's uh. british for whatever reason

without the suit he's this scaled creature (not tunner's species, though similar)

OWAKCX

(he/him)

He screams. A lot. like. it's concerning.

Raddy hit him in the head with a hammer once 🤩

Vineria helped him escape from a mental asylum (don't ask /j)

He's really jumpy,,him and Vineria are siblings (well thats a little chaotic)

hes like. bive regretevator level paranoid

he's always been more fond of warmth than the others; he's usually near mr. sun

fur + claws

when he's upset or scared he will. bite the nearest person (said person is usually brud which is for the best because brud can just. regenerate everything and can't feel pain)

Sky

(he/him)

(This is canon) He's only 14, being the youngest one there (the rest are over 18)

(This is also canon) he collects teddy bears

he sometimes stays up too late scrolling on YouTube shorts (cough i do this)

his parents are tunner and jevin because I said so

Mr. Sun

(he/any)

Not much to say about him…

He's. I dunno, the age of the sun-?

He's cheerful most of the time

Durple

(he/they)

He's one of the calmest characters

No, he can't fly (this is canon)

His wings are his arms

He has two fangs that are always visible, even when his mouth is closed

asexual and panromantic because I said so

dark purple eyeshadow

side braid

gold earrings

Mr. Tree

(he/him)

Also not much to say about him…

He's the wisest character

Simon

(he/xe)

He's energetic, competitive, and loves a game of Mario Kart (eheh I suck at that game-)

He's the main character in Normal Mode woww!! (yes this is canon)

He has a tail. I gave him a tail. (It has a lightning symbol at the end of it)

There's two rings around each of his antennae and three around his tail.

p.ANSEXUAL YEy

his horns are ears now because i said so

ADHD

he needs glasses (he refuses to wear them clukr keeps trying to tell him but he just says no)

if he raises his voice too much it becomes the synth effect he uses in game cause why not lol

ponytail

freckles

Tunner

(he/him)

extroverted sheriff

he probably likes hugs

Tunner whistles to calm himself down, it's also just a hobby he does sometimes (I got this idea from smth I found I forgot what)

He doesn't have many close friends because of how he protects the others,,

He has scales, claws that he cannot retract, four ears, a tail, a brown cowboy hat, and a red bandana

He's just some desert creature lol

When anxious, he wraps his tail around someone he trusts (as like. a protective gesture idk lol)

He definitely has a stereotypical western accent

He has a gun (a revolver, to be exact) as he's like the sheriff of the town; he tries to keep everyone safe

He's really nice and is on good terms with practically everyone

Brud's his younger brother HEHE

also Tunner has sharp teeth and a tooth gap and a forked tongue

yeahh Tunner's tail wags yippee!!

He accidentally shot one of Vineria's plants at some point and got himself banned from the garden for 5 days (he's kinda scared of vineria but if they got into a fight he'd probably win)

He's a really good sleeper (but also kinda eepy a lot of the time) and he takes naps when he feels like he doesn't have to worry about anything at the moment (he's a worrier though)

also he curls up to fall asleep when he's in an actual spot to sleep (idk I saw it somewhere else and I wanted him to)

oh yeah his hair's messy also because I said so!! don't ask how he has hair!! cartoon/video game logic!!

He used to have hats of different colors, but he threw them away (but why-)

you cannot eat a tunner (he will kill you) …pretty sure the creator of sprunki said this

He's genuinely intimidating when he's angry, which isn't often, but will happen, especially when danger's near (ahem in-universe of course I don't think many people are scared of a google shapes doorstopper with a hat)

also pansexual (he don't know the word for that 😔💔 /hj)

shorter ponytail

one pair of ears usually rise when he’s alert (and doesn’t have the hat on- he almost always does though) but otherwise they just move slightly upwards

Mr. Fun Computer

(he/they/it)

Mr. Fun Computer cannot move on his own, he has to be picked up or put on something with wheels.

Him and Fun Bot can read eachother’s minds (squirrelflight and leafpool? /j)

His screen is fully animated, and he can show complex shapes and words.

He has a cable-charger tail.

His screen can partially shatter under distress

In Horror Mode, he is abnormal (hacked whatever same thing he’s a computer), but isn't dead, so he has slight control over it, and he's on the good side.

Mr. Fun Computer, despite technically being over 18, still acts like a child and looks like one with his rainbow hat with a small propeller on it

He struggles a bit with understanding some things, but is usually pretty well-read

He's the younger one out of him and Fun Bot

RAINBOW bowtie. >:)

Wenda

(she/he)

She's always been a little insane and she was a bit of a jerk, but for a bit before Horror Mode, she had become a bit violent towards objects, foreshadowing how she'd act toward the others later on

She has light blue eyes (HELP I DIDNT REALIZE AT THE TIME BUT THAT MAKES HER LOOK MORE LIKE TALKING ANGELA THAN BEFORE)

she loves to get under Gray's skin, annoying him whenever she can (one time in c.ai gray couldnt sleep and wenda was just like “SKILL ISSUE” hten they started hissing at eachother lol)

She also tries to annoy Brud, but always fails

Pinki

(she/her)

She's usually really kind, sometimes a bit jumpy (no not because she's a rabbit I mean like she's scared of some things that most others wouldn’t be)

She tries to stay away from sharp objects, just in case

bow on her tail!! :]

Jevin

(he/him)

depressed /hj (he like. saw people die)

He's 100% introverted I mean look at him

Jevin has a dark blue hood, wings, and claws (he's like a bird!! OH HE ALSO HAS A TAIL)

He somewhat knows Pinki more than the others (I dunno choir thing or smth)

He is... in a cult. (yes this is canon) We… don't really know what it's about-

He's the quietest sprunk and is on good terms with Gray due to him also being a quiet one

He's known about Black for a while, and he tries to warn the others, but the only ones who listen are Gray and Tunner.

His visions? (GELP THIS IS KINDA BASED OFF OF WARRIOR CATS DONT JUDGE ME) They're of blood-stained, dark landscapes with dark red skies and black clouds with eyes. Almost everyone is dead... and Black seems to be the cause. (this is kinda dumb help warrior cats ahh OH WELL WOMP WOMP)

He has a deep voice and he's usually stoic

stays up late (wakes up at a normal time)

gay.

?̴̧͕͖̖͓̟̣͆͋?̸̠̈̽̏͝?̴̜̜̏̈́̓̎͝

(he/???)

This one seems off…

He's the cause of Horror Mode.

He didn't possess or control Wenda, rather he just managed to make conversation with her, and easily convinced her to take her knife-handling skills to use.

He's thinner than the others, and his face appears in other places, on other characters, during Horror Mode. (it doesn't but I like to think it does like on Mr. Fun Computer and Mr. Tree)

He has tentacles(?) (LIKE A SQUID OR SOMETBING) that he uses to kill the others. (I MADE THIS UP BEFORE I SAW BRAINROT OKAY /srs I'M THE OG /silly /hj)

He still has a tophat and tie, though he and his face is usually mostly shrouded in darkness.

The order of the deaths/injuries is Tunner, Simon, Brud (injured), Oren, Pinki (injured), OWAKCX Durple, Raddy, Mr. Sun and Vineria, Mr. Tree and Sky, Garnold, then Clukr.

Mard

(he/him)

ALIEN THING. >:D

he has a sister named ketupa :3 (btw she's from Sprunkr ahah)

he plays guitar using a mustard bottle and he has a room dedicated to every type of mustard and he can play the guitar but he prefers the mustard

(when he does play the guitar he usually uses a pick with a picture of a mustard bottle on it 😭)

horizontal pupils!!

Trevor

(he/him)

very cheerful guy!!

he's mostly canine and LOVES to make friends!!

dunno what else to say since he's my OC ;-;

Crimson

(she/they)

some weird mix between a reptile with horns and a rabbit

her other ear is under the hat- which is torn because of the horn

In Horror Mode, she was controlled by Black, causing her to kill... She regained her senses only after it was too late.

dunno what else to say since she's my OC ;-;

Ships

Pinki×Oren×Simon (polyamourus; throuple [dating, maybe engaged])

Tunner×Jevin (married)

Garnold×Clukr (married)

(yeahhh there's not much)

OWAKCX×Brud (maybe??? I'm still not sure about this one but if so not dating)

mayyybe Mr. Sun×Mr. Tree just. because i can

Designs!!

(WIP!!) Voice HCs

Oren -

Raddy - Knife (Inanimate Insanity)

Clukr - Tennis Ball (Battle for Dream Island)

Fun Bot - II WANT II WANT TO BE A MACHINE— (whatever voice is in this song The Living Tombstone - I Wanna Be A Machine)

Vineria - Raven (Teen Titans Go [i dont watch this anymore btw])

Gray - Black Hole (Battle for Dream Island)/Regretevoices: Lampert

Brud - Marker (Battle for Dream Island)

Garnold - Two (Battle for Dream Island)

OWAKCX - Regretevoices: Bive (i guess)

Sky - Gumball (The Amazing World of Gumball [i've never watched this,, maybe i should])

Mr. Sun -

Durple -

Mr. Tree -

Simon - Skipp (Ramshackle)

Tunner -

Mr. Fun Computer - Mr. Fun Computer (shocking i know 🤯)

Wenda - Serial Designation V (Murder Drones)

Pinki -

Jevin -

Black - Regrevoices: Wallter

Mard -

Trevor -

Crimson -

Other sprunki ask blogs by @goldentail-readswarriorcats

@gray-the-creature

@ask-trevor-sprunki

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sprunki-ask-box · 4 months ago

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Hello and welcome to my sprunki ask blog! I decided to remake this one and start all over again on everything :]

Let me start with the rules and then we can move onto the characters and stuff about them!

Ahem

Rules

1. nothing too nsfw some semi suggestive jokes are fine but nothing extreme

2. Mod is 18+ please don't be weird with me or come in here as a minor to be weird or something

3. Some sensitive topics may arise as well so I would suggest being cautious

4. Don't be weird with any of the characters who are minors ( sky, funbot, and fun computer are all under this category in this universe)

5. Your ask may not get awsered either because I do not know how to respond, I don't understand the ask, or I just simply do not wish to awser it

6. Please don't attack me for anything that I have not done wrong, or for not answering your asks

Anyways I might add more rules

Onto the characters ( things may change)

NOTE: this is my interpretation of the characters if you do not like it go the other way

Pinki°34° poly bi° she/her

Bunny

Works as a fashion designer

Raddy°36° bi°he/him

Fire dragon

Does construction work

Oren°33°poly pan° he/him

Alien

Works at an arcade, also djs

Simon°33° bi° he/him

Alien

Works at an arcade, wants to make and sell art

Lime/owakcx°40° bi° he/it/them

Porcupine, opossum, cat mix

Unemployed, used to work as a businessman

Vineria°36° pan° any/all

Unknown

Sells all kinds of plants, and weed

Sky°14° Nuh uh ° he/him

bear

Goes to school, unable to work yet

Jevin°39° gay ° he/him

Half bird half horse

Study's the stars, believes in Mr sun as his god too ( Mr sun is unaware)

Durple°37° gay° he/them

Water dragon

Unsure what exactly he does

Wenda°29° bi° she/her

Cat

Unemployed

Gray°27° gay° he/it

Half demon half cat

Works in retail

Black°35° gay° he/him

Half demon half cat

Stuck in a mental ward ( escapes usually)

Brud°32° gay° he/them

Half dog half deer

Works as a baker

Tunner°40° bi° he/him

Dog, lion, komodo dragon mix

Sheriff and farmer

Garnold°49° gay° he/him

Merperson, goldfish

Sells the stuff he creates

Clukr°46° gay° he/him

Unknown

Sells the stuff he creates

Funbot°13° Nuh uh° any/all

Robot

Unemployed, can't work

Fun computer°15° Nuh uh° he/it

Robot

Unemployed, can't work

Mr Sun°67° pan° any/all

The sun but with a body

Free therapist

Mr Tree°64° gay° he/him

A mix of some trees but with body

Helps vineria with selling plants, doesn't do that weed stuff

Relationships of characters:

Mr sun and Mr tree are close but not quite dating

Garnold and clukr are married

Pinki and Oren are together

Black has his eye on some people

Jevin and lime are together

Funbot and fun computer are the children of garnold and clukr

Sky, jevin ,and pinki are siblings

Tunner and brud are siblings

Wenda,gray ,and black are siblings

Mr tree adopted vineria

Simon and Oren are very close

#sprunki incredibox #sprunki #incredibox sprunki #sprunki ask blog

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rndyounghowze · 1 year ago

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Review 528: POV: You Are An AI Achieving Consciousness

Written By: Nathan Leigh

Performed By: Nicole Orabona

Presented By: Cirque Saw

@cirquesaw www.cirquesaw.com

“The Programmer Said They Could Lie To Us”

That’s the phrase that Dana said that sent Ricky into an apoplectic rage. For the past hour, Ricky was sitting there gobsmacked as they drew their house on the little screen and slowly realized that they were teaming up with the rest of the audience to make the music that they were hearing. Within two minutes of the Zoom windows going blank Dana mused out loud “What if the music was pre-recorded and what you were drawing had no meaning? Dana, ever the skeptic, was picking up on a theme in our modern AI world: if it’s from a computer it can be a lie. Like the urban legend goes some menial robots are shutting themselves off when they notice that their task is pointless. That question lit a fire in Ricky’s soul. They absolutely had to know the answer.

Nathan Leigh

That’s what led to Ricky begging Leigh to show his setup during a talkback. The answer sounds way more mundane than its implications. MIDI (music data) is sent from the touchscreen to a computer and every point on the screen is a note in a musical scale. No lies. No trickery. Just coding wizardry. Yet the implications of the effects of Leigh’s writing have made Ricky lose a little sleep and bug Dana with a couple of geeky rants (Dana note: make that several) That was the first time in a loooong time that Ricky was given that burning in their chest. They just had to know the answer. They weren’t mad at Dana for raising the idea or their take on the theme. They were mad that for the first time, this theatre know-it-all DIDN’T know the answer. For the first time, they were wearing Ruby slippers and stepping into Oz begging to take a peek at the man behind the curtain.

Nicole Orabona

Tech is only 20% of the effect. The rest is this nexus formed by Leigh’s tech and Orabona’s delivery. Orabona has a way of speaking where you don’t know where the text ends and the performance begins. They lure you in and you find yourself doing what they say without thinking about it. With an immersive world like this, you need this kind of trust in your fellow carbon-based life form. When they’re talking you don’t feel the time move. Without the human touch the tech would be useless. Ironically the human element is what makes the play.

We’re checking our email one day and see Cirque Saw advertising a new run of POV. We beg to come back in. They warn us that nothing has changed since the last time we saw it. We get in and Ricky is again in heaven making music, figuring out how to make higher notes, how to add drums, almost figuring out the latency, and hearing their notes join the mix. Then Dana chimes in “I thought they said they didn’t change anything.” Ricky looks at them and feels that fire building up in their chest again.

“Well, it is an immersive show,” Dana says “things are going to be different from one show to another. But something seems very different from last time.” And that has been the burning question in Ricky’s brain for a week now. What had changed, or what did they and Dana just now pick up on that they missed before?

And that’s where you find us. The more we learn about the show the more we realize we don’t know.

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azar-rosethorn · 3 years ago

Text

TDIS Short Stories: Just Like He Used to Build

Summary: Brick is really good when it comes to robotics, but has almost never touched anything of the sort in years. Blossom, being fed up with his refusal to join the school's robotics club after 3 years, finally finds out why.

Rating: T for swearing and mention of parental death

Note: THIS IS NOT A SHIP FIC!

She's seen him.

She's seen the way he uses his laser eyes to weld the parts together.

She's seen the way her friend spends hours on a computer trying to get the programming just right.

She's seen the way he builds, wires, rewires, programs, all until it's just right.

She's seen the way his face lights up when it's finished, when he looks around the machine to see if there's any more kinks to work out, but there isn't. It was perfect.

Brick's face doesn't light up like that anymore.

Nor does he spend hours building or programming any sort of robotic machine.

But he's always loved it, Blossom thought, When we first became friends, we'd built weird little gadgets and gizmos together all the time. We'd always argue about whether we'd use it to help the world, or take it over. What happened?

When the robotics club at their school was first announced and were taking members, Brick was the first person Blossom went to.

"Yeah, I saw it," he'd said, "You should join. Looks like you'd have fun."

"You mean we should join, right?" Blossom had asked, hopeful that this 'Brick doesn't like machines anymore' thing was all in her head.

Unfortunately, it wasn't. Brick shrugged. "Eh, I just don't think I'll have the time, ya know? I mean, with the band and sports-"

Blossom knew it was bullshit. But, she just brushed it off. Brick will come around, she thought, eventually.

Then sophomore year came and went. Blossom joined the robotics club again, and again, Brick didn't. This time, when she asked him about it, he was a little more irritated and defensive.

"Why are you even nagging me about this, anyway?" he asked, a little loudly, might I add. "You got Princess and Dexter to hang out with, and you're like, on top of the entire school! Why do you even care?!"

This of course, caught Blossom off guard. Sure, Brick was a bit of an asshole, and sure, they have their little disagreements (probably a little more often than two friends should), but he never snapped on her. Usually nothing really got to him, and if it did, he would just take it out on the punching bag with HIM's face scribbled on it down in the training room at home. This was just, kinda concerning.

Junior year, she didn't even try.

Senior year, she'd had enough.

"Okay, what is it?" she asked once they got home.

"What?"

"Come on, we used to build all sorts of amazing robotic machines together! You've always loved robotics! What happened to you?"

"Oh my- this again? Just let it go, will ya?"

"Not until you give me a legitimate reason why you won't do something that you love!? And don't say you've 'outgrown' it because I've seen you looking at my robots like an ex-girlfriend you regret breaking up with. Which, by the way, is really weird, can you please stop?"

"When did I ever-"

"So," Blossom patted the seat next to her on the couch, "You gonna spill it or do I have to keep annoying you?"

Brick rolled his eyes and started walking away. "Again, Bloss the Boss. Why. Does. This. Even. Matter?"

"Because, you're my friend, Brick, and on the contrary to popular belief, I'm not sorry for wanting to help you with whatever you're dealing with."

Brick stopped in his tracks, definitely thinking of what to say next.

"Well, ya wanna talk now?" Blossom asked, hopeful that she was getting somewhere.

But, finally, Brick was able to move again. "See you tomorrow, Blossom."

And just like that, he was gone, and all Blossom could do was sigh. You know what? Blossom thought, Whatever. What. Ever. Brick's right, why am I worried? If he wants to be a dick, let him. He'll open up when he's ready. And if he decides to do robotics again, he can do it outside of school, well, as long as he doesn't blow anything up. . . he’ll be fine, I’m sure of it.

The next day, Blossom did her usual crime-sweep of Townsville. She looked through every nook and cranny of the city, yet there was nothing. No news is good news, she thought, Now, time to head home.

But on her way, she heard a weird noise coming from. . . the Volcano Lair? Frankly, any noise coming from there is weird, since it's been abandoned for over four years, ever since Mojo Jojo bit the dust.

Blossom, excited for something interesting, immediately went to investigate. She crept around the perimeter and peered through a window.

But what she saw wasn't at all what she expected to see.

"LIAR!!!"

Those machines, all of them. The things that once brought him joy now laughed in his face every time he saw them. His failure and his grief has haunted him through all things artificially intelligent.

This was the last time those things would ever drag him down again.

Before he knew it, his fist dented the metal. It felt like nothing. Or was he just distracted? He just didn't know anymore.

"YOU PROMISED!!"

His eye beams cut a hole into the cockpit, and before he knew what he was doing, he flew in, taking apart every piece of that damn battle robot.

"YOU SAID EVERYTHING WOULD BE OKAY!!"

Bolts. Wires. Buttons. Screws. Levers. Scraps of metal. Everywhere. He didn't care about his newly cut scars from his spree. He didn't feel a thing.

"YOU SAID WE WOULD BE OKAY!"

Except he felt everything. Every negative emotion known to humanity, all at once.

"YOU SAID THAT YOU WOULD HANDLE IT!! AND-AND THAT YOU WOULD TAKE US HOME, AND WE'D NEVER HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT ANYTHING HURTING US EVER AGAIN!!!!"

Grief. Sorrow. Pain. Betrayal. Regret. Failure. Loneliness. Helplessness. Emptiness. You'd see all of it on his face had he not let his firey red hair drape carelessly over it. It didn't matter, though. Nothing did.

"WHY DID YOU LIE TO US!?!"

He didn't stop until the battle robot that once stood tall in the laboratory of Mojo Jojo was reduced to nothing but scraps of metal, wires, and ashes. And when it was, the only thing Brick could do was land next to it, and take it all in.

"Why did you lie to me?"

And he was finally face-to-face with it. The metal, artifical figure in which all machines like it was nothing but a constant reminder of his failure. After four years of bottling up all his emotions, four years of being the big, strong leader his brothers needed, he finally fell to his knees, and screamed.

"WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME????"

Everything was a blur. The fire of his hair mixed with the water of his tears, blinding him from the chaos unfolding around him. Was all that heat coming from him? Or the fire he'd caused in his fit of rage? It didn't matter. All that mattered was that Brick Rowdyruff knew how much of an absolute failure of a son and a brother he was. He couldn't even keep his own family safe from HIM. How utterly worthless is someone who can't do something as simple as that?

With no warning, Brick felt a slight weight on his shoulder. Its fingers curled around his shoulder, but not too tightly. A hand.

Internally, for his mental breakdown was too far gone to be stopped, Brick went into panic mode. No, no, no, you idiot! he thought to himself, Why did you let anyone see you like this! What if it's one of you brothers?! You're supposed to be taking care of them, not the other way around! You're gonna fail them, too, just like you did your dad?

But it wasn't his brothers. It was a girl. A girl with firey red hair identical to his. Another arm emerged, and together they wrapped around him while a head was placed on his shoulder.

"It's alright, Brick. It's okay."

Goddammit, Blossom. Why the hell did you have to stick your nose in my business?

But no matter how hard Brick fought it, no matter how much he told himself that he couldn't let anyone see him in shambles like this, and how much of a failure he was for not being the bigger person and actually depending on someone, he couldn't help it. He hadn't had anyone to break down in front of, or to turn to when things got hard, or to comfort and care about him ever since. . . .

Brick turned around, collapsed into Blossom's arms, and sobbed louder than ever.

Instead of pushing him away like he expected, Blossom encompassed her arms around his body like a protective shield. One arm moved up and down his back, and the other circled around his neck, covering his face. Her head rested on top of his, and she kept whispering things like "Shh. . . let it all out. . . you're okay. . . I'm here. . . it's okay".

After what felt like hours, though it was probably only like, 10 minutes, Brick finally spoke.

"It's my fault. All of it."

"No," Blossom argued, her voice still gentle, "None of HIM's actions will ever be your fault."

"I couldn't even keep Dad safe."

"You didn't know HIM would take it that far."

"I should have. If I was just fast enough maybe I-"

"Stop it, Brick. Stop blaming yourself for things you knew were out of your control."

"But it was up to me to-"

"You were thirteen, Brick. Your father was supposed to protect you, not the other way around. And that's exactly what he did."

"Butch and Boomer, they. . . I need to be there for them. I have to be the person they know they can depend on. I have to protect them."

"From what?"

"Huh?"

"HIM is gone. And us and our siblings are friends now. And you three all have food to eat and a roof over your heads."

Finally, the tears stopped. Brick sat up and looked around. It seems that during his breakdown, Blossom used her Ice Breath to put out the fire that his outburst had caused. Brick decided to fix his gaze downwards.

"All you have to worry about now, Brick, is you," Blossom concluded, standing up and reaching out her hand, "And I'll be there every step of the way."

Before he accepted her offer, Brick had one more question to ask.

"Why?"

Blossom smiled. "Because after all we've been through, you are just as much family to me as Bubbles and Buttercup. And this, is what family does."

A smile couldn't help but appear on Brick's face as he took her hand and stood up. And as they flew home, Brick asked one final question.

"Hey, is that robot club thing still open for new members?"

A/N: Wow, you guys actually made it this far? I'm impressed. Here's a cookie 🍪

#ppg #the powerpuff girls #the day is saved au #tdis #mojo jojo #brick rrb #blossom ppg #tdis short stories #ppg reds #blossom utonium #blossom x brick #but platonic

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angellbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

Forgotten Love - part three: lions and tigers and secrets, oh my

series summary: You’re new to the Avengers. In joining the team, there’s a lot that no one yet knows about you. And there’s some unusual tension between you and a certain brunet. Under a pseudonym and with completely fresh start, and background, you hope for a chance at a new life. A better life. But how long will it last before someone figures out the life you’ve hidden away?

chapter summary: Quite some first mission. And some close calls, too.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

words: 1.9k

warnings: only killing those hydra goons

A/N: Ooooh I’m actually really happy with this chapter. Hope you all like! As always, likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated☺️

series masterlist

The jet speeds off to an unknown location. FRIDAY is left in charge, of course. Everyone else either sits at the sides or is preparing for when you land. You get up from your seat and walk to the middle of the jet, where Tony, Steve and Nat are all looking at a hologram of some sort of concrete building.

“Hydra base.” Nat states.

“We’ve gained intel to a specific experiment they’ve got going on. They’ve been trying to recreate more of the supersoldier serum. We can’t let that happen.” Steve informs you, in his patriotic, ‘I’m Captain America’ voice he likes to use.

“Right.”

“Fury’s informed us that they may be closer to recreating it than we thought. He’s picked up some new radiation that’s coming from this building.” Your gaze falls from Steve back down to the hologram. With a flick of his fingers it spins, giving you a 360 view of the place. The sight makes you feel uneasy, in a way unknown to the team.

“If you haven’t guessed already, our job is to get rid of whoever and whatever is causing this.” Tony adds. “We take out the bad guys, steal their shit, and boom. Avengers win.”

“Always so serious.” Nat jokes. You smile at her and head to the weapons area, grabbing a few knives and a handgun, and slotting them into various places on your suit. Bucky is also there, picking a few similar knives but a much larger gun.

“This is your first mission, right?” He asks, not even glancing at you. You think for a moment, not quite sure how to answer.

“Yeah. It’s my first.”

“Don’t sweat it. We’ll be in and out in no time. It usually goes according to plan.” He finally looks at you, smirking, and gives you a wink as he walks away, leaving you with more conflicting feelings.

“5 minutes to landing.” FRIDAY announces.

“We’ll head down now to scope out the area.” Rhodey says. The back of the jet opens and he heads off in his War Machine suit, followed by Sam, followed by Tony using his nanotech and jumping out before he’s fully suited.

“Looks like you’re rubbing off on him.” You hear Bucky say to Steve.

The jet lands in the clearing of a nearby forest, leaving the rest of you to venture through it to the base, undetected under the cover of the night.

“Ready?” Steve asks as you head out.

“So ready.” You reply.

You, Nat, Steve and Bucky all head through the trees and it’s not long before you reach the large, grey building. As you approach the facility, you would have guessed it was abandoned by now if it wasn’t for what Fury had reported.

“Emily, we’ll head through the front and you boys can go around the back.” Nat orders.

“Yes ma’am.” Steve salutes her with a smirk and you head off in your different directions.

You and Nat find a small side door where the front of the building is and to your surprise, it’s unlocked. Both of your guns are up at the ready as you sneak down the eerie corridor. Only dim ceiling lights cast any glow amidst the darkness, the kind that are always flickering in horror movies. You come up to a split in the corridor and push Nat up against the wall with you when you sense an unwanted presence.

You close your eyes, concentrating on the way this person is moving. Though the footsteps are inaudible, you can feel it: the vibrations through the floor, of a male, walking with the rhythm of a robot. Patrolling the grounds. The vibrations get stronger as he nears. When he reaches the corner is when you pounce, catching him in a headlock and choking him silently unconscious, until he falls limp in your arms. You snap his neck. One swift motion and you lay him down on the ground, letting the logo on his uniform get to you more than it should have.

“Damn, Quinn, you sure have some surprising moves up your sleeve, don’t you?” Nat comments, stepping over the agent’s body. “A force to be reckoned with.”

“Buck, come on.” Steve picks up a jog as the pair head through from the opposite side of the premises, but Bucky is still looking over his shoulder every 2 seconds.

“Sorry.” He mumbles, and picks up his pace to match Steve’s.

They head further into the maze and, after taking out a few HYDRA heads, they find themselves in a corridor with a single door on the left hand side, reading ‘WS room 1’

“Winter Soldier.” Bucky speaks softly. “That’s what it stands for. Winter Soldier.” He takes a stammered breath. “This is one of the places they tortured me.”

Steve pays his friend a sympathetic glance. Bucky halfheartedly smiles but resolves to staring at the floor. He walks up to the door and takes a look through the small square window. Through it, there’s a small room, encased by glass, with computers and other equipment as such. Ready to make notes. Observations. Beyond that is a larger room with a stand consisting of various panels and buttons and a lever, which is attached to the large-framed chair beside it. The mere sight of it causes Bucky’s skin to crawl with the pain of the past. It almost makes him jump when Steve places a hand on his shoulder, signalling the time to head off again.

“Uh, guys, you might wanna check this out.” Tony’s voice crackles through the coms. “Get to where I am right the fuck now.”

You and Nat start running down the halls now, checking Tony’s location using the new tracking device he installed into everyone’s suits. Taking out numerous faceless HYDRA agents on the way, you make it to a door, a huge metal door, where two agents lay dead either side. Bucky and Steve arrive just as you do.

Steve opens the door.

With a loud creak, a blue glow emits from within the room, and standing in the middle is Tony, surrounded by viles and viles and bottles and machines. Paperwork is piled up messily throughout the place. You all head inside, slowly making your way around, taking notice of all the colours in various glass beakers, tubes and containers, some smoking, some not. Glancing at all the scribbles on the paper scattered around, and on the walls, it’s clear that this is the testing room for their serum. And by the look of the fridge in the corner, filled with bright blue viles, they succeeded.

“Wait, have they already figured it out?” Steve questions.

“No!” Bucky slams his fist on the table, angered by the despairing truth.

“They did it. They actually did it. And God knows how long they’ve had this. For all we know, there could be dozens of newly created supersoldiers walking among us.” Tony says, taking out a vile and holding it up to the light. You take a sharp inhale and turn away from the rest of the group, suddenly feeling light-headed. As you focus your breath and lean against the workspace, you also focus on the paperwork in front of you. It’s a file. Your soul leaves your body as you stare at the black folder, a blood red HYDRA logo stamped to the front. Underneath, some writing:

‘CONFIDENTIAL - SS test subjects 1-12’

SS. Supersoldier.

You hesitantly open it. Nameless faces are enclosed, reduced to nothing but numbers. All have red stamps over their files, labelling ‘FAILED’ in red. Every one is the same; a face, a name, ‘FAILED’.

Until you reach number 12.

You slam the file shut and jolt back upright.

“Emily? You okay?” Nat asks. You spin to face everyone, who now looks slightly concerned by your sudden outburst. You release the breath you were holding in.

“Yeah. Sorry. Seeing this just makes me so angry, you know? How they just want to create monsters with this stuff. No matter the cost.”

“Tell me about it.” Bucky comments. Everyone gets back to what they were doing before.

You sigh in relief, as if you were expecting them not to believe you. You discreetly slide page 9 out of the folder and fold it up small enough to fit into a pocket in your suit.

“This seems too easy.” Bucky says, as he looks over a page of scribbled formulae. You all gather round and look through what seems to be the final renditions of their recreated serum. As you read through, trying to make sense of the cacography, an overwhelming sense washes over you. You shut your eyes, trying to focus the feeling, pinpoint the source of it.

“Guys,” You open your eyes wide. “we need to get out of here. Right now. It’s everywhere. Let’s go, come on!” You yell at everyone as you feel the heat rise beneath you. You run, and the others follow. Nat grabs a load of HYDRA’s work, taking whatever looks important enough, and heads out with the rest of you.

You make it out of the building and keep running towards the forest. Rhodey and Sam meet you from where they were on lookout outside.

“Get down!” You shout, and everyone covers.

The facility is blown to smithereens, the sound of it erupting through the dawn’s serenity. Bright orange fills the sky, melting into the sunrise.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.” Sam urges, to which everyone gets up and heads back, exhausted, to the quinjet.

You let yourself fall onto a seat, leaning your head back against the wall and releasing a long-awaited breath.

“Thank God we have you on our team, Quinn, otherwise we would have been barbecued.”

“Glad to be here, Stark.” You manage to push yourself up, gathering with everyone around the table, where the team is examining what Nat managed to pick up. You scan what’s in front, and your heart falters.

“Where did you get that?”

“Grabbed it on the way out.” She replies. “Looked important.”

“Well, yeah, files with huge capitals that say ‘CONFIDENTIAL’ usually are.” Sam remarks.

You’re tense the whole flight back, biting your nails and lip as you all go through the papers. And when you land, you’re the first one off the jet.

“How did it go?” Wanda asks when you’re back in the compound.

“You want the good news or bad news first?” Tony pours himself a drink.

“Tony, it’s like 7AM.” Steve states.

“Well done, Cap. You can tell the time.” Tony carries on pouring and takes a large swig, holding his glass up to Steve as he swallows.

You rush to your room in silence before anyone starts recounting the mission and passing round that file.

You shut and lock your door, sliding down it and letting your face fall into your hands. You reach for the piece of paper you took and unfold it. You can hardly bear to look at it, feeling sick to your stomach. You barely recognise yourself.

~~~

“Did they all make it out?”

“Unfortunately.”

“And her?”

“She’s with them now.”

“We will have her back. She can’t hide from us. Number 12 will be back with us soon.”

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darker-soft-starker · 5 years ago

Photo

Starker High School AU, Pt. 4 (Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.5)

---

The last bell of the day sounds and Peter doesn’t know if he’s thankful or reproachful.

On one hand, no more classes.

On the other: giving up an afternoon of Robotics to spend time with the modern embodiment of the antichrist.

To add insult to injury, it had been one of those long, arduous days that never seemed to end. The hours stretched themselves into impossibly bloated milliseconds as he watched the clock - and it still wasn’t over.

Dread filled him in anticipation of the afternoon and before first period he accidentally smacked himself in the forehead trying to get his locker open. It hurt and he was sure it would bruise. But if he was looking for sympathy, there was none to be found. Bucky and Nat weren’t speaking and in result their friends seemed wary and divided amongst themselves.

It made for a rather awkward day.

His efforts to be neutral ground and to bridge the gap were met with vexation and were brushed off, so he ate lunch alone again in the library Bucky and Nat were fiery and fiercely independent, so not unexpected, but it was in his nature to want to mend the rift.

Ben used to tell him not everything was up to Peter to fix.

Easy for him to say.

Nonetheless he does his best to keep that notion in mind as he goes through the day, but everything seems off kilter. No one is talking to each other, he was so busy and caught up with all of the internal discord and schoolwork that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

And May was acting super weird this morning.

Worry gnawed at him in a way that had him forgetting about eating, whether it was about May and Thursday’s match, about the giant pimple that bloomed on his chin overnight -- or whatever inevitable torment that Stark had cooked up for them this afternoon.

It’s still a few minutes before they’re due to meet but Peter isn’t dragging his feet.

He isn’t.

Sure, the hallways are vacant of any other students.

And maybe he is feeling just a little petty for the time Tony kept him waiting despite his own plea not to -- besides, he still has a couple of minutes before he’s due, he’s not going to turn up early for goodness sake, as much as the part of him that says if you’re not early you’re late begs him to quicken his footsteps.

Maybe he does stretch it to the last minute just to see Tony looking frustrated by his vintage ‘69 Mustang, the line of his mouth unmistakably displeased as the cars in the lot around him gradually disperse.

He knows the moment that Tony notices him, leant against his car, sunglasses slipping down his nose to properly glower at him.

“This is why you’re an asshole,” Tony points a finger at him as he arrives. “I should leave you here.”

“Sorry,” Peter apologises airily, “I was trying to be anywhere but here. I’m not late though, so?”

Tony rounds the car to the drivers side, still pointing at Peter. “Don’t push your luck, Parker. Get in.”

Snickering quietly to himself, Peter heads to the other side.

The engine growls loudly, a deep rumbling that goes through Peter’s entire body. Buckling himself in quickly, he peers around curiously while Tony reverses out of the lot. He’s reluctantly surprised. For an old car that belongs to a teenager behind at least two school fires it’s in impeccable condition.

“Nice car,” he says quietly, mostly to himself as his gaze roams the interior with interest.

It’s difficult to associate Tony Stark with the words nice or neat even, but that’s exactly what the car is. The interior is unscuffed, squeaky clean, the leather seats are comfortable, not a sprinkle of cigarette ash to be seen.

It really is spectacular - when the engine roars and the seats vibrate under him, Peter gets a sense of wonder and curiosity, like that one time he fell in love with DeLoreans after watching Back To The Future with Ben.

Curious, he opens the glove compartment and finds a generous stash of snacks and chocolate bars inside.

“Don’t touch anything,” Tony scowls, smacking Peter’s hands from the dash. “That’s rule number one. The interior is original and my girl is sensitive to your residue.”

Residue, he scoffs, tempted to reach out and touch more just to be contrarian.

“You got a sweet tooth or somethin’?” Peter asks instead, gesturing to the glove compartment.

“No.”

“Can I have some?”

“No.”

“Are you gonna say anything else to me on this trip?”

“No,” Tony smiles sardonically, turning up the radio louder until the riffs of Queen’s Somebody To Love drown them both out.

True to his word, Tony remains silent over the course of the drive. It suits Peter fine, it’s not a quiet that is uncomfortable or awkward, not with the radio playing loudly from an oldies station, the wind whistling through the windows and the echoes of traffic around them.

He thought it might be a stiff and uncomfortable drive, however the longer nothing goes unsaid between them, the more Peter feels himself relax in his chair, warmed by the heater and his limbs loosening until they feel boneless after the day he’s had.

And to his credit, Tony doesn’t appear overly tense or uneasy in having Peter in his space - in fact, he looks as chilled out as Peter has ever seen him.

The perpetual strain around his jaw and shoulders seems eased, his posture open and casual as he drives with one hand, shifting gears with the other, sometimes tapping out a tune on the steering wheel. And whenever a song he particularly likes comes on the radio he turns up the volume, and if Peter looks over at the right moment he sees him smile privately to himself, a pleased little quirk of his lips.

Sometimes Tony speeds and puts his fingers out the window to card them through the wind, and his smile grows.

Although the amicable vibe has little to do with him, it’s probably the first time that they’ve spent more than five minutes together without hurling insults at each other.

It’s weird.

Too wary of shattering the peace, Peter doesn’t mention it.

By the time they’re on the Queensboro Bridge the Eurythmics are playing one of May’s favorite songs. Without realising he’s doing it, he’s bobbing his head along to the tune, whispering the words under his breath, suddenly reminded of dancing in the kitchen with her and Ben, nine years old, using wooden spoons as microphones.

He’s smiling before he can stop himself, head tilted back against the seat, eyes unfocused on the skyline. It smells like Tony’s cologne and engine oil, like being enveloped in an old memory. He can see Tony looking at him from the corner of his eye but neither of them say anything.

The volume is turned up.

---

They arrive at the realtor with just minutes to spare before their appointment is due to commence.

The traffic had built incrementally during the drive to Long Island City, the roads becoming more congested as they went. The tension in Tony’s shoulders returned as the minutes ticked closer to four-thirty, his tapping on the steering wheel out of impatience rather than good-cheer.

Peter actually does feel a little bad now.

Not that the five minutes he could’ve spared would have made much of a difference, but still, guilt whispers vehemently.

It’s for that reason that he politely doesn’t say anything that could be perceived as inflammatory when Tony pockets his sunglasses and buttons up his dress shirt, checking his reflection in the rear-view mirror. Even if he’s dying to tell him that he looks like a damn nerd.

Not that he can talk.

Heeding Tony’s words, he’d dressed similarly in his okay-est pair of jeans, a clean shirt and a cardigan. In class, MJ laughed and told him he looked like Napoleon Dynamite.

They head in, a bell above the door signalling their arrival. It’s a chain realtor, not the one they rent their apartment through, but Peter thinks there is an office right near his building. Inside, a middle-aged woman at the front desk greets them.

“Uh... we have an appointment with Kate Price” Tony gestures between them. “Appointment for Tony Stark?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the woman apologises in a heavily Welsh accent, “you should have gotten a notification, she’s unwell and taken the day off.”

“Oh, um --”

“That’s okay though, I’m free, I can help you if you’d like.”

“Are you sure?” Peter queries, sharing a look with Tony who appears just as uncertain. “We’d really appreciate it.”

“Absolutely. It’s quiet anyhow. Come,” she beckons them down a narrow hallway to a set of cubicles and L-shaped desks. There doesn’t seem to be anybody else in the office, he notes, as the two are directed to sit before a desk while the woman types away at a computer.

“I’m Miranda,” she introduces herself, holding out her hand for both of them to shake. “The appointment notes say you’re after a nearby rental?”

“Sort of, we’re just looking at some pricing. Nothing serious, we just need to take some notes, get a feel for it.”

Miranda’s glasses slide down her nose as she observes them.

“You’re a wee bit young to be moving out of home, aren’t you?”

“Oh! No,” Peter stutters, waving his hands, “we’re not actually --”

Miranda waves at him dismissively.

“Not that I can judge. My husband and I were living together and married by nineteen, ‘course he’s dead now. We had a good run though. Anyway, good for you. Young love, it’s so sweet.”

“Young what,” Peter says.

Miranda, typing away cheerily at her computer, clearly didn’t get the memo about the school project like Kate must have.

Peter turns to Tony, who is just as wide-eyed as he is.

What the fuck, he mouths, slinking down in his chair.

I don’t know, Tony mouths back, stupefied.

“So, what are we thinking - a studio if it’s just the two of you? Something cozy?”

“Uh, well, we’re looking to grow,” Tony says, hand slapped over his mouth. He shares a bewildered, wide-eyed stare with Peter.

“Right, well, nothing wrong with knowing what you want. What’s the budget? Let me see what I can find for you.”

“Ah,” Peter shifts in his seat, trying to communicate wordlessly with Tony as their research angle quickly becomes derailed.

He tries to communicate the need for an urgent exit in a stare that he hopes is prolonged and meaningful, but is only met with equally panicked blinking from the other boy. There’s a moment spent blinking undecipherable messages at each other and before he knows it the silence has stretched on far too long.

“Well, we were thinking sixteen-hundred a month. Right... Tony?”

“Right,” he nods slowly, eyes darting between the two. “Single income, see. Parker - uh, Peter is still in school.”

“Oh, bless,” she says spiritedly, typing away at her keyboard. “It’s not easy, I know, been there. What do you do for work, young man?”

“Me?” Tony asks, gesturing to himself, shooting Peter a desperate look. “I’m... a mechanic...apprentice.”

Peter has to disguise his snort with a cough, the horse so far out of the gate there is no catching up to it.

“Good for you, darling,” she says distractedly as she busies herself with the monitor, missing the heated glare Tony sends him. “Let’s see, might be tight, but we may have something for you. One bed, one bath, a living room that can be converted to a second bedroom.”

“Great,” Peter nods hesitantly. “Where?”

“Across the street, actually,” she swivels the monitor on its stand to show them a set of blurry photos of a small apartment. “And it’s currently vacant - we can do an inspection right now, if you’d like?”

There’s a pregnant pause.

“One moment,” Tony smiles at her, holding up a finger.

There’s a screech as Tony pulls Peter’s chair across the linoleum with a single hand.

“This is getting out of hand,” Peter whisper-hisses, ducking his head.

“I know, I know, I know,” Tony squeezes his eyes shut, making placating motions with his hands that do little to appease Peter’s rising apprehension. “It’s alright, it’s under control. Listen, hear me out, we go to the inspection, have a look at the place --”

“You can’t be serious, dude, we’re sixteen.”

“We’re not going to actually fill out an application, numbnuts, listen; we go, we take some pictures, get some details about the property, add it to our report and bam, who needs a reference? Think about it! Who else is going to have this level of detail in their report?”

“I’m not exactly sure this is what Miss Ahn meant by field research.”

Tony pokes him in the forehead.

“Think outside the box, precious. Rise above the urge to do the bare minimum and we might just get a good grade.”

Peter sneaks a glance at Miranda. “Fine,” he pokes Tony back in the chest. “But you do all the talking, smartass.”

“Fine with me.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

Tony turns back to Miranda and offers her a charming smile.

“We’d love to. Lead the way.”

---

They door sticks when Miranda turns the key into the dead-lock.

She struggles with it momentarily, smiling assuredly at the two boys as she twists the doorknob back and forth, pressing her shoulder against the peeling wood, forcing it open with a bang.

“Here we are,” Miranda announces brightly.

The two follow her inside, sharing a reluctant look with each other as she leads them into what must be a living room, the click-clack of her heels echoing off the scuffed floorboards and bare walls.

The first thing that Peter notices is that the room, while void of furniture, seems impossibly small, even by New York standards.

With the three of them spread thinly throughout it, there are but a few inches of space between them. Barely any room for a couple of armchairs, let alone a full sofa or a coffee table.

At a glance, he takes stock of the cracks in the ceiling, the discoloured patches in the plaster and the splintered wood of the front door frame where it appears it has been forced open from the outside. The chain-lock is broken.

Tony is over by the far corner, wiping a finger through a layer of dust on the window sill.

There’s a loud bang from upstairs.

“So, this is the living area,” Miranda says with a flourish of her wrists. “And if you follow me, this down here,” she leads them around the corner, “is the kitchen.”

The kitchen is comprised of a small formica bench, a stained backsplash and several cupboards missing their handles.

While Miranda continues to point out and inform them all of the ‘cosy’ and ‘quaint’ features, Tony slips his phone from his pocket and with a nod of acceptance, lingers back a few steps to take photographs of the apartment.

While he’s doing so, Peter busies himself by inspecting the kitchen, toying with the dials of the oven and the two-burner stove top, testing the swing of the cupboard doors.

Inside one of them is a dirty tea-cup and a dead cockroach.

“-- and as you can see, plenty of room for a dining table, maybe you might like to have friends over --”

He follows them into the bathroom, which is just as compact as the rest of the apartment. He tests the faucet, noting that the tiles are cracked, as is the bathtub.

Most worryingly are the speckled spots of black spores along the higher walls and the ceiling.

“-- it’s a big old tub, plenty of room,” she pats Tony on the stomach, “could fit two in a squeeze if you suck it in, aye? Now, this way please boys, let me show you the pièce de résistance --”

Tony guards his stomach with his hands, pouting as Miranda leads them to the adjacent room.

“This is the main bedroom,” she beams, flicking on the light. “Perfect, isn’t it?”

The two young men stall in the doorway, peering inside.

The space, probably equipped to handle a solitary king-single and a drawer at best, isn’t particularly generous by any means. The flickering bright yellow globe seems to only highlight the blistering wallpaper and the suspiciously stained carpet.

It smells like weed and cat pee.

“So as you can see, plenty of privacy for you two, the living room can be converted into a second bedroom if need be -- or if one of you needs to sleep on the couch,” she winks at them.

“Right,” Tony says slowly, nudging the other with his elbow. “What do you think...honey?”

“I don’t know, dear,” Peter says, elbowing him back. “What do you think?”

“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.”

“Bless,” Miranda cuts in, leaning on the doorframe while she observes them. “You’re just adorable, you must be high-school sweethearts.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“...Y-Yes,” Tony says after a moment, voice croaky. His hand snakes out to awkwardly pat Peter on the shoulder. “...we are.”

“So, what do you think?”

“About him?” Tony points to Peter.

“About the apartment,” she laughs. “What do you think, do you like it?”

“Oh, um, I have a few questions actually,” Peter mentions, following them back into the kitchen area, ignoring the odd look that Tony sends him. “If that’s okay?”

What are you doing, Tony mouths, back turned to the realtor as he clears his throat.

Peter holds a finger up to request a minute. There’s a struggle to each convey their message silently, however, Tony reluctantly concedes, spreading his hands wide in a theatrical approval to proceed.

He paces the room, shuffling at the bubbling linoleum that he’d narrowly tripped on coming in, bending down to inspect it.

“Do you know how long the apartment’s been vacant?” He directs his question to the realtor.

“Oh, not long,” she replies vaguely, flipping through her file. “Couple of days or weeks, I think. I’d have to check.”

Peter nods, glancing between the three, standing.

“Umm, I noticed that the oven doesn’t heat up. I thought that maybe the gas was turned off but the stove works? Also, um, in the living room there’s a section of floorboard that’s rotting with because there’s a water leak from the ceiling?”

Miranda’s smile freezes. “Oh, is there? That must be new.”

Peter wrings his hands together, glancing at Tony, stomach swooping at his own boldness. “And, uh, I noticed that the windows stick; the water pressure is funny, too?”

“I can get that checked --”

“There’s black mold in some of the rooms. I think because there isn’t temperature control, the windows are west-facing, so it must get pretty humid in the summer.”

Peter looks to the other boy in what he hopes seems heartfelt. “I don’t mind, I only mention it because Tony’s... well, he’s got asthma.”

Tony coughs, catching on.

“Yes, that’s right.”

Miranda’s posture crumples at that, her professional veneer instantly wiped from her face.

“You’re right, this place is a dump,” she admits, kicking at the floor, spreading her arms out wide. “Look at it, it’s vile. I wouldn’t let my wretched old mother-in-law live here, the old bag. I’m sorry, boys.”

“Well, actually,” Peter says, gesturing between himself and Tony, stepping closer to him. “We’d be happy to do all the repairs and look the other way about the safety violations if there’s any wriggle room on the rent?”

Miranda flicks through the papers she’s holding, adjusting her glasses as she reads through it. The adjacent neighbors can be heard yelling through the thin walls.

“We do have a margin to drop it from sixteen-fifty to... fifteen-hundred a month for the right tenants. Not going to lie, the landlord is pretty desperate. Would you like an application?”

Tony clamps his hand on Peter’s shoulder, squeezing it. “We’ll think about it. Could we get all of those terms in writing, pretty please?”

Peter grins.

---

“I can’t tell if that was genius or crazy,” Tony says after they’ve departed ways with Miranda, headed back towards the Mustang on the other side of the road. “Seriously can’t say I expected that.”

The pair jog across the road once there is a gap in traffic.

After Ben passed, Peter and May moved twice. As a young child Peter saw another apartment as just that - another place to set down his duffle of second-hand clothes and thrift store toys. But May was smart. Savvy. She calls it the Parker Discount.

Peter shrugs when they reach the car.

“Well, just because our report is meant to focus on budget against costs, doesn’t mean we can’t find ways to save money and maximise it. Not when you consider insurance, bills, food. It all adds up.”

“I’m still trying to pick my jaw up from the floor. Didn’t know you had that in you, Parker.”

“Yeah well, you don’t know anything about me,” Peter says to the ground, kicking at the pavement, “so.”

He tries not to squirm under the weight of Tony’s considering gaze, like a vice tight on the back of his neck. He feels the moment something shifts, as if a pin pricks the wall between them, easier to breathe.

“Look, whatever you think about me, I don’t care, but you probably couldn’t find a better partner for this project. I know more about this than you do.”

“Alright, no need to crow about it, I just said I was impressed. Don’t let it get to your head.”

Peter’s stomach growls loudly over the evening traffic before he can respond.

“Sorry,” he says, cursing the timing of his body, “haven’t had anything since breakfast.”

Tony nods to a diner across the road.

“You wanna?”

“Oh,” he objects, worried about his bone-dry bank balance, “I’m not --”

“C’mon, dickweed, my treat. Don’t leave a guy hanging, it’s not polite.”

Tony waits patiently, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s sure it’s a look that many have fallen for. A crooked, wry smile and a self-confident air that one might confuse between charm and indolence.

He feels out of his depth for once, and isn’t sure if he likes it. But his stomach growls again and he’s got nothing to lose except for his appetite.

“Okay,” he says, nodding. “Sure.”

---

It’s the most surreal experience he’s ever had.

He pinches himself to believe that it’s real, that he’s dining out on a Tuesday evening in the boroughs with Tony Stark. The same guy he thought might murder him just last week.

He’s still not so sure that’s out of the question, to be honest. It would be the most normal thing about this entire day.

The silence is definitely awkward this time, sat at a table outside under a weather-protective canvass while they wait for their meal. A woman with a large doberman sits nearby, giving them odd looks every so often as she speaks loudly on her phone.

Peter’s nursing a giant glass of cola. The only sounds between them since they ordered have been the clinking of ice cubes from his glass and the sound of bubbles as he blew through the straw for a lack of better things to do.

From the daggers he’s getting from Tony, he’d wage that he’s annoying him - hence the probable murder - but he’s spared by their waitress returning with their meals.

A truly monstrous pile of fries is placed before Tony, along with a burger, a sundae and a milkshake. He takes off his dress shirt to reveal a black undershirt, as if in preparation to sweat through the meal.

Big meal for a big mouth, Peter thinks, as his own BLT is set before him.

It’s weird.

Tony is weird.

This whole damn thing is weird.

“Don’t you think this is weird?” he asks, idly picking a seed from his crust and nibbling on it.

“Yeah,” Tony sighs.

“I don’t like it.”

“Me neither. What was I thinking?”

“Dunno,” Peter says.

It’s quiet again after that. And it’s weird. Sitting down with over a civil meal with Stark or any of his cohorts wasn’t particularly on his bucket list for junior year, but here he was, picking at his crusts, dying to pee.

Tony takes three fries from the pile and dips them into his sundae, then the milkshake before eating them.

“Dude, gross.”

Tony looks at him oddly. “Uh, no it’s not. Have you never dipped your fries in ice cream before?”

“Is that a metaphor for sex?”

“What? No, you weirdo,” Tony shakes his head. “Are you serious? You’ve never -- god, that explains everything,” he slides his fries across the table a few inches. “Though it truly nauseates me to share with you, I can’t let this stand. Try it.”

“Ew, not after you’ve touched them --”

Tony slides his milkshake closer.

“Try it, butthole. You won’t totally hate it, promise. Well, you might, but if you do it’s just gonna confirm that your taste is garbage, which is what I already think about you. Anyway. C’mon, try it.”

Peter, while staring at Tony, begrudgingly accepting a fry from the peak of the pile and scooping it in ice cream from Tony’s sundae.

He waits for the moment the combination of textures will make his stomach turn while he hesitantly chews, but instead is pleasantly surprised that the sweet salty flavours compliment one another so well.

“Not the worst, is it?” Tony grins knowingly, placing another fry in his mouth in the same manner. “I’m right, aren’t I? It’s good. Say it. I’m right.”

“It’s alright,” Peter says, stealing another fry to make sure. “Don’t let it go to your already inflated cranium.”

The self-satisfied smirk on Tony’s lips tells him it already has.

Quiet fills the space between them again, more charged than before in a manner that Peter can’t really describe. Like as if there was a soft buzz in the air, like he would get be struck with static electricity were he to touch it.

Not keen on getting stung, he continues eating his sandwich.

Tony on the other hand, has other ideas.

“So, Peter Parker, now that I know you’re not a total dumbass, tell me this,” he takes a deep breath, his expression grim, “ -- do you wear glasses for the aesthetic or what?”

Peter stares at him.

“C’mon. Are you aiming for nerd chic? You shouldn’t, it’s very 2012.”

“Dude, no. I know glasses are like a thing or whatever but I actually do need them to see. I’m like, blind as fuck.”

“How blind is blind as fuck?”

“Pretty blind.”

He takes off his glasses and twirls a finger in the direction the smudge of colour that he assumes is Tony.

“Can’t see you, like at all,” he squints. “You’re just a blur. Which is the best you’ve ever looked.”

Tony takes the glasses from his outstretched hand, and he has a hysterical moment where he thinks that Tony might go so low as to steal them, but is quickly realizes he’s just trying them on. He whistles before handing them back to Peter.

“Yup, those are prescription alright. The fuck? Why don’t you wear contacts?”

Peter shrugs, slipping his glasses back on. Stark comes back in perfect clarity.

“They’re super expensive,” he’s alright with admitting to Tony at this point. “I have some I use for matches, or for special occasions, but I dunno, I’m used to glasses.”

“Do you have to clean them all the time?”

“Yes.”

In fact, there’s smudge from where Tony has inadvertently touched the lens.

“Have you ever stepped on your glasses accidentally?”

“Yep.”

He’s done it more than once but he’ll never forget the first time, how upset he was in the moment or how he fruitlessly tried to hide his face from Ben and May so they wouldn’t see the cracks in the lenses. He cried when they found out.

That first time was just weeks after his parents had died, and he’d already been laden with thoughts of being a bother and a financial burden on the couple. They never stopped trying to prove that he wasn’t a hardship to care for. Sometimes, on mornings like the one he had, he still can’t help but wonder how much better off they might have been without him.

They eat in contemplative silence afterwards. While he finishes his sandwich he watches as Tony surreptitiously feeds his fries to the doberman under the table, unbeknownst to the owner. He has to eat quickly to conceal the smile taking over his lips when the dog slowly shuffles closer to their table with purpose, looking at Tony with big, soulful eyes.

Once he’s finished eating and there’s nothing left to hide his amusement, he resumes their conversation.

Clearing his throat, he points towards the Mustang once he has Tony’s attention. “Okay, your turn. What’s with the deal with the old girl?”

"My car?”

"Yeah. Explain the whole greaser vibe.”

The other boy is quiet for a moment, his gaze searching Petter contemplatively, a napkin being twisted between his hands.

“She was a hunk’a junk when I bought her, mostly scrap metal. I bought all the spare parts and got her up to scratch. I dunno, I just like cars, tinkering with them or whatever.”

“You restored her by yourself?” Peter asks, reluctantly impressed.

He looks at the car again, trying to picture it.

It wasn’t hard to imagine Tony Stark getting his hands dirty, being the prized pig that he was, but having the wherewithal and competence to rebuild a vintage vehicle at sixteen? It would explain the whole Danny Zuko, T-Bird look, but with his bank balance, he could have easily bought a Mustang in mint condition without having to lift a finger. It would explain the streaks of oil from the other day.

Tony shrugs, twisting a napkin between his hands.

“Sorta. Anyway, quit your judging, four-eyes.”

“Not judging,” Peter holds his hands up in innocence. “I just didn’t expect that about you.”

“Yeah, well. I’m exceptional, I know.”

"That’s not the word I would use,” Peter allows. “But you’re not the worst.”

A flash of surprise briefly crosses the other boys face before it disappears.

“High praise,” he says wryly, resting his chin on his hand. He looks Peter up and down slowly, his big, curious eyes made warm by the dying sunlight.

“I’m as shocked as you are.”

“...You’re not the worst either, I guess,” Tony sighs like it pains him to admit it. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, we could never be friends -”

“Definitely not -”

“ - but you’re not completely intolerable. God, never thought I’d say that. Maybe I’m growing as a person.”

“Am I still a neanderthal?”

Sipping his milkshake through the straw, Tony raises his shoulders half-heartedly.

Peter kicks his foot from under the table, unwilling to take that for an answer, even if Tony kicks him back, his eyes flicking upwards briefly, his smile almost bashful. In the dying light of the sunset he almost looks soft; approachable.

“Probably shouldn’t have called you that, huh.”

“Probably not. Is that an apology?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Don’t push it, Parker. I’m just saying you’re not completely abhorrent. Who knew.”

“I knew. I just don’t know why you’ve always hated me so much.”

He doesn’t mean for it to come out small and quiet, but he can’t take it back once the words have left his mouth.

It starts to rain.

“Sorry,” Peter says, louder to be heard over the droplets hitting the overhead umbrella heavily, immediately feeling stupid. “I shouldn’t have -- it’s not a big deal. I mean, I really don’t like you either.”

“Can I get you boys anything else?”

Both boys turn towards the waitress who’s approached their table, lined-lips smiling down at them, a notepad in her hand.

Tony throws a fifty down on the table and stands and Peter follows suit.

“Nah,” he says, cocking his head to the door. “We’re good.”

---

“See you back at school?” Peter yells to be heard over the rain, back on the sidewalk.

“I’ll drive you back,” Tony yells back, wet hair clinging to his face.

“What?” Peter cups a hand over his ear.

“What?” Tony does the same. “I said I’ll give you a lift!”

“The station isn’t far,” he points. “I can walk!”

“Don’t make me look like an asshole! Get in, princess!”

With the rain pelting his thin shirt and thunder cracking angrily from above, he doesn’t spend his energy arguing. He gets in.

---

The short drive back is amicable, music muted, the pitter-patter of the easing rain filling the ever-growing comfortable silence between them.

With the heater going it doesn’t take long to dry off and restore the feeling back to his fingers. Heat beats from the vents beating pleasantly and along with being sated from the meal, Peter feels like he could nod off at any moment. He has to keep snapping his eyes open, although it’s difficult to adjust his focus as the sunset bleeds into a ruddy orange on the wet windshield, the lights from the cars blurring into bright long streaks of colour.

"You’re not a total lost cause, Tony admits, slowing as they near his apartment block. It’s the first time either of them has spoken since starting the drive back. “Look, maybe it’s the fact that your face looks like a puckered asshole when you speak, I don’t know. There’s just something about you that really rubs me the wrong way."

Peter cringes as they come to a stop outside his building.

"I don't want to rub you in any way."

"And yep, here comes the mental image,” Tony’s nose scrunches, like an infant that just ate something sour. “Gross. Thanks, Parker.”

“Welcome.”

He unbuckles himself and opens the door, hesitating for a second while the moment settles between them.

“Thanks for the grub and the ride, I guess. Text me when you get the paperwork from Miranda?”

“Aye, aye,” Tony mock salutes him. “Now get out of my car.”

Peter complies, giving him the finger by way of goodbye.

Once the car merges and disappears into the traffic, he grins down at his hands, cheeks going warm.

It’s the thrall of finally feeling on equal-footing, he reasons, as he takes the step back up to his apartment. That’s what it is. His stomach is inexplicably still squirming as he enters ascends the floors, going over the day in his head until he arrives at his door.

It smells like tikka masala and too much ginger when he enters. He sets his backpack by the door, placing his keys on a nearby hook.

May greets him with a sway of her spatula, sauce hitting the splashback with the motion.

“Hey bubby,” she says, gripping his shoulder as he nears and kissing his cheek.

Upon closer inspection, he finds that the kitchen is sparking clean. The floors have been mopped, the grout between the tiling is without a speck of dirt and there are faint notes of harsh disinfectant below the smell of spices.

“Oh wow,” Peter says, looking down at the chicken and bean assortment. The rice on the burner looks soggy and overcooked. “That looks great. How was work?”

She gestures vaguely but doesn’t meet his eyes.

“You hungry?”

It’s the same weird behaviour from this morning and he doesn’t have the heart to say that he’s already eaten.

Instead, he collects the cutlery and napkins, takes a stack of bowls and helps her plate up.

“Dancing With The Stars?” he asks, tilting his head towards the living room. He hip-checks her when she doesn’t reply. “C’mon, you’re not going to let me eat all alone, are ya? Tony says ‘hi’, by the way.”

He doesn’t know why he adds that last part, recalling the exchange rom the other day, but it’s worth it to see her smile.

“Alright,” she nods, scooping rice into the bowls. “How is Tony?”

Everything that happened that day bleeds away, unimportant, insignificant.

“He’s alright, I guess.”

---

May falls asleep on the sofa hours later.

He doesn’t want to move her, as exhausted as she is, so he covers her with an old blanket and removes the glasses from her face, placing them on the coffee table. He cleans up as quietly as he can and places her phone on charge in the living room.

On his way to bed he checks his phone for the time. Both Bucky and Tony have sent him text messages, the latter with the awaited paperwork.

Ben would be proud of him, he thinks, smiling as he reads through some of it, saving the rest of it until he’s more alert.

Maybe it wasn’t such a horrible end to the day after all.

---

tagging: @bylerboyfriends @ravens-starker-stuff, @starker-rays, @ironspiderstarker, @muse-of-gods, @notfor-temporaryuse, @tabbycat1220, @sugarfreecult, @rebel13lion39, @plueschpop, @spideravocados, @jellybbunny, @booktrashme, @elfkido, @mycatislickingmybedsheets, @queerghostboyo, @disneyprincessdominatrix, @cherrygoldlove @starkerflowers @starkeristheendgame @thewolffearsher @starkersugar

#starker #starker fic #tony stark x peter parker #high school au #enemies to lovers

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justafandomfollower · 4 years ago

Text

Thoughts on Stargirl S02E01

Season 2 is here! So, I watched the first episode last night and, while I don’t often do this for TV shows I watch, wanted to share/write up my thoughts about the episode. I mean, overall, I thought it was really good and I was grinning like a loon to see the familiar characters back onscreen. But, more than that, I had some thoughts on individual characters.

First, I really really liked the way they handled Courtney’s “overworking” as Stargirl. A lot of other shows would have the debate about how being Stargirl is dangerous and she’s just a teenager, etc., etc. But they hashed that out last season, and they’re not bringing it up again here, which should be the bare minimum but ends up just being refreshing. Pat never says she needs to put away the staff (except for that last bit where he grounds her, and even that’s temporary). Instead, he cautions her to find a balance between the superhero and non-superhero parts of her life, to pass her classes, get good grades, get some sleep, learn to take breaks every now and again, and think about her future.

I do think Courtney will ultimately be proven right about the threats that are out there (I mean, duh, we saw Cindy and Eclipso right there), but nothing Pat said was wrong, or telling her that there were no threats. So, yeah. Big fan of that part. As for Green Lantern’s daughter, while Courtney was her usual “act first, think later” self, I also kind of can’t blame her, because someone did sneak into their house and steal important JSA relics. There were faults on both sides here.

The rest of my thoughts I’ve thrown under a read-more because it’s long and rambling:

I’m pretty solid and happy with where the other three JSA kids are at the moment, but I figured I’d still break it down a little.

Yolanda: I like that she’s struggling with what she did, even months later. I like that she knows she can’t say anything at church, I like that she’s still able to talk about it with Courtney, and I like that Courtney was supportive without outright agreeing with or condemning her actions. It’s a tough thing for kids to talk about, and while an experienced adult like Pat might be able to understand it better, I like that Yolanda’s not completely bottling it up.

On that note, though, they said Cindy might have gotten crushed when the satellite came down, “like Brainwave”, so there’s a possibility here that nobody else knows what Yolanda did, which’ll be interesting to see play out, if that’s true.

Rick: Again, I like where he’s at. He’s more confident in who he is, a little more settled, but also still lost. He claims Tyler as his name again and knows he’s a hero, but he doesn’t know where he goes from here. I think that’s part of why he’s seeking out Grundy, because he’s still clinging to that part of his past because he doesn’t have any clue of what’s in his future.

He’s still very much an angry teenager new at being a superhero, ranting to that teacher about how he saved her, but knowing his character (and acknowledging how crappy that teacher was), I can’t entirely blame him for that. Was it a good move? No. Did it make sense? Absolutely.

Speaking of that teacher, she was not a good one. Can I understand her wariness about the bad boy of the school suddenly getting every answer right? Sure. But, 1) it’s been months, so surely there’s been some gradual improvement, 2) that’s not the way to do it; talk to him about it, sure, but don’t refuse to accept his explanations, and 3) refusing to accept his name change is a jerk move that a figure of authority shouldn’t be making. I could wave away the first one from TV-time-skipping-magic, but not the other two. I don’t really think we’ll see this character again (but maybe in summer school), but she’s more of a vessel to show us 1) how Rick’s changed and 2) how the way others see him hasn’t, so, I suppose, in that regard, she did her job.

Beth: It’s neat that the goggles still seem to be (mostly) working, but it’s the AI that’s not functioning. Not the route I’d thought they’d go, but it’s really interesting because it gives Beth a chance to expand her skill set, or at least expand it to the viewer, and give her a role as a coder/computer scientist. It also doesn’t cheapen the “death” of the AI that happened last season.

Also, like the others (Rick at school with the teachers, Courtney and Yolanda having a discussion in the middle of main street, even Pat with STRIPE), she’s not great at hiding her activities. They’re just goggles, maybe, and she could explain them away fairly easy, but I don’t like the way she just leaves them out around the house. I’m okay with it for now because 1) she’s a teenager, still learning, and they are pretty innocuous, 2) some of it’s probably just TV “requirements”, like not wanting to cut from scene to scene or whatever (idk, I’m not in the TV business), and 3) her parents seem pretty clueless.

And speaking of her parents, man did I not like them even more this season. Every time I saw them on screen my mind went straight to: “good people, terrible parents”. Did they ever even want a kid, or did they just like the idea of having a kid to fit into their “perfect lives” until even that wasn’t enough to keep them together? They’re barely aware of what Beth does on a day to day basis, she still seems to be the one doing all the cooking, and they forget to tell her they’re coming home late? Bad parenting, and selfish parenting at that.

Overall, my mood about Beth this episode can be summed up like this: Do I like Beth struggling? No. Does it open up possibilities for what could be a really intriguing character arc? Yeah.

My biggest complaint about our JSA is that there weren’t really any scenes of them together, but that’s more of the time constraints of having so many characters we needed to get concrete information on regarding where they stand. They had that nice patrol scene in the beginning to let us know they’re all still solid friends, so I’m happy enough with that for now.

Other thoughts:

Barbara wasn’t really in it much (no mention of her job, though the newspaper article did say something about The American Dream going through changes after the death of its leader or something like that), but I can sympathize with her wanting a vacation and not getting one. It’ll be interesting to see how okay she is with Courtney as Stargirl as things get more dangerous.

Mike, likewise, wasn’t much present, but it’s clear he’s still struggling to be a part of things. Pat wasn’t wrong, when he said that the discipline, etc. from having a job was important, but it still feels like he’s brushing Mike aside and not letting him be involved, so I can see some more resentment brewing this season. Better than last season, but c’mon Pat. Mike just wants to help. Still, hopefully we’ll get a better idea of where Mike stands in future episodes.

Artemis. Really interesting the way she brushed aside her parents being in jail as them being wrongly convicted. I’ve seen Young Justice, so I’m looking forward to seeing if they turn her into a villain or hero here.

Zeek. (Is that how he spelled it? It looked like that on his hat.) I’m, probably unnecessarily, wary of how interested he was in working with Pat at the show (does he know something?) but for now I’m mostly just mildly amused at his “I don’t care what you do on your time, but hey, do you think that robot could use a flamethrower?”. Also. Pat. C’mon man. You’ve been in this business for decades. Hide your robot better. (Though, I’ll admit, he was only resigned when he realized Zeek had found it, so... Did he have an excuse ready? Did he just not read Zeek as a threat? I’m probably reading too much into this, but it’ll again be interesting to see where it goes.)

Cameron’s back, seemingly unaware of everything, and it looks like his murderous grandparents are taking care of him. Not great, but, eh, we’ll see what happens.

Sylvester is still tracking down Pat. I’m a little bit glad the landlord either didn’t give him, or didn’t have, Pat’s information from that end scene last season. I’m also interested to see if Maggie (Mike’s Mom, if my understanding of comics I haven’t read is correct) sticks around. Sylvester seems supremely unworried and in a mostly good mood, despite his desire to track down Pat, so I really want to know what’s up with him. I’ve seen some fan theories of time travel and him being a displaced Starman, which could be interesting, but I have no idea if they’re accurate. He certainly seems to be the real deal, at least with all the right memories.

Cindy and Eclipso. That opening scene was creepy, and made me question if I’d turned on the right show, and the connection with the McNider family is really interesting. Did not like the way she had Mike’s picture, but from a writing POV I really liked it. I don’t want Mike to go villain, but I mostly trust the writers to see how this plays out.

Other thoughts: The town seems to have moved on from the mind control/satellite-dish-from-the-football-field thing, so I’m guessing there weren’t too many causalities. New principal makes sense, and I like that they didn’t need to shove it in our face to remind us what happened to the old one (plus that scene where Courtney bumps into her kid; nice and simple and shows a little of how he’s coping). I appreciate that Henry hasn’t been forgotten. No glimpse of Yolanda’s home life yet, or Rick’s uncle. No idea how Rick managed to change his name, but the threat he was hiding from is more or less gone, so it makes sense.

I may have forgotten something here or there, but anyone who’s made it this far deserves a cookie, so, thanks for reading! I’m always up for discussion if anyone wants to add on or debate any of my points.

#Stargirl #My thoughts #just talking to myself

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loisinherlane · 4 years ago

Text

Consider this my magnum opus of why I love Booster Gold and why you should read these comics, but also: how Michael Carter and his family are connected to time travel. It’s kind of a hot mess because I run through a bunch of comics, but hopefully this makes sense!

Michael Carter, alias Booster Gold, is the first new hero introduced after Crisis on Infinite Earths. Booster is from the 25th century, where he was a college football player who got caught betting on his games and expelled, eventually becoming a janitor in a museum.

(Booster Gold (2007) #1)

At this museum, he befriends a security robot called Skeets. Eventually, Booster decides that he wants the adoration superheroes had in the 20th/21st century, and with future technology, he would be able to join up in the past. So Booster steals a Time Sphere, a suit, and a Legion of Superheroes flight ring. (Wait, the legion is from the 30th century, right? Yes. There are reasons this ring is in the past, and that’s mostly because Booster was always meant to become a superhero.) In the past, Booster establishes himself as a superhero, with a manager and number of sponsors. He’s about making money. This doesn’t necessarily make him a lot of friends. But he joins the Justice League International, makes friends with some heroes (including Ted Kord, the second Blue Beetle), and has a standard fare for a non-central character.

So flash forward to Countdown to Infinite Crisis. For those of you who haven’t read this one: This is a lead-in to the OMAC Project, and later, to Infinite Crisis, where Ted Kord notices a number of things that don’t add up. Unfortunately, Ted is not the most respected hero in the community, and no one quite takes him seriously. Wonder Woman says she’s busy but to keep her updated, and Oracle is trying to get him to pay more attention to other matters.

(Countdown to Infinite Crisis)

So Ted seeks out his best friend Booster to help. Booster, after some initial reluctance, joins up. There’s some noticeable moments where Booster hints that he knows some things about the future (particularly, that Ted is going to die, and the Scarab means that the new Blue Beetle, Jaime Reyes, is about to take over): Booster keeps staring at the newly found Scarab. He asks Ted when he found it. Ted, in his narration, hints that Booster knew Doomsday would kill Superman, and he still took the first punch.

(Countdown to Infinite Crisis)

All of this parallels what happens next: Booster shoos Ted away from the computer and takes over. Booster gets hit by an explosion meant for Ted.

(Countdown to Infinite Crisis)

Consider: Later implications of time travel suggest that some small things can be changed, but the big things can’t. If Booster knew what was going to happen, did Booster only postpone Ted’s death?

With that, Ted does die at the end of this story, and a part of The OMAC Project is Wonder Woman and Booster investigating Ted’s death. But as much as I love Ted, we’re mostly talking about Booster and time travel today. So moving on!

In Infinite Crisis, Booster is the one who fetches Jaime Reyes. After returning to the 25th century to access historical records, he tracks down Jaime via the scarab. (Of course, this is another example of a potential change: Booster says he may be saving millions or billions of lives, but this is unsubstantiated.)

(Infinite Crisis #2)

(Infinite Crisis #5)

So this brings us to 52, the fallout of Infinite Crisis. Booster Gold’s plot, while not obviously central in its introduction, plays a major role in bringing back the multiverse to the Post-Crisis continuity. Booster Gold, in the wake of the loss of his best friend Ted Kord, has sold-out again.

(52 #1)

With the help of Skeets, he’s returned to his origins. He wants to be a hero and make bank. Superman’s not around, so who else could Metropolis turn to?

Booster is on the outs though. First, with the heroes: Ralph Dibny blames him for not realizing his wife Sue was going to be murdered. Beatriz de Costa (Fire) shames him for how he’s acting after Ted’s death.

(52 #7)

(52 #4)

Pay attention to that notepad. Booster writes the names of Rip Hunter and his fellow Time Masters, as well S.T.A.R. Labs Time Travel Division. Everyone but Rip Hunter is crossed out. Rip’s name is circled, but he’s noted as “unlisted?????”

Because he’s noticed a number of events that don’t line up with the history Booster and Skeets remember, Booster goes to visit Rip Hunter in his Time Lab in Arizona. Skeets has to hold the door open because of the lock, so Booster goes in by himself...

(52 #6)

...and sees this... (Feel free to read what’s on the chalkboard. A lot of it hints to happenings in both 52 and the One Year Later event, as well as other stories. It can be fun to make connections.)

(52 #6)

...and this. Yikes.

We soon find out that Booster hired an actor to fake an incident on a subway. Why? Well... that answer’s not so clear. But considering the rest of the story, it’s likely Booster wanted to discredit himself.

(52 #7)

Unfortunately for Booster, this ruins his reputation with the public, and he’s soon replaced by a new, more humble hero: Supernova.

(52 #10)

And the public adores Supernova. Meanwhile, Booster’s sponsors pull out as his reputation goes down the drain.

Booster gets one last moment in the limelight, when he pushes too hard trying to upstage Supernova, and he dies... though he’s recognized as a hero for his tragic sacrifice.

((Hold on if you haven’t read 52. You’re going to find this one funny.))

(52 #15)

So... Booster is dead. Ha. What next? Well, Skeets seeks out Booster’s ancestor, Daniel Carter, for help to get back into the Time Lab. After all, Booster didn’t give Skeets the details.

(52 #19)

Daniel lets Skeets see into the Time Lab, where Skeets finally sees the same things Booster saw.

(52 #19)

Whoops! The real problem is Skeets. A little more menacing now, isn’t it? So Skeets abandons Daniel in the Time Lab, where he’s sucked into a vortex that’s part of Rip’s security measures. Meanwhile, Skeets is free to handle his evil plan. Whatever that is.

Back to Metropolis: Supernova is still out there, doing good. He’s also grabbing items that seem a little... eclectic.

(52 #20)

And everyone is theorizing about who’s really under the mask. Cassie Sandsmark thinks it’s Kon-El. Lex Luthor thinks it’s Superman. Ralph Dibny puts the pieces together...

(52 #31)

But Supernova asks him not to say it out loud.

Later, we see that Supernova is actually working for Rip Hunter. Everything he’s gathered has been for Rip, who, as you can see, is really going through it. (Sad they never followed up on why Rip Hunter was affected like this, but I have my own thoughts that I might say later.)

(52 #36)

Where are they working anyway? In the jarred city of Kandor! Of course, Skeets can’t find them here, can he?

(52 #36)

Whoops. Spoke too soon.

(52 #37)

But who is Supernova? That burning question we’ve had for all these issues?

It’s... Michael Carter! Booster Gold!

(52 #37)

So, as Rip asks, Booster tells him. Booster knew something was off with Skeets. At the Time Lab, he almost asked him. But Rip Hunter arrived and recruited him for the long con. Rip needed Booster to gather materials, but they couldn’t alert Skeets. However, using a suit Rip rigged, Booster could be in two places at once: through time travel. After faking his death (using his real corpse from the future), Booster was sent back in time twelve weeks to complete Supernova’s actions.

Now Rip, Booster, and Skeets are engaged in a battle that, uh... is not continued until Week 50 on panel. If you count this as continued. I just love this panel.

(52 #50)

Actually, Skeets follows Rip and Booster to a lab where T.O. Morrow has searched the Red Torado’s brain to find out the truth of the 52 that he’s been repeating throughout the series.

(52 #51)

Of course, it’s not actually Skeets. The real Skeets was used as a chrysalis for Mister Mind... who has become a horrifying moth hellbent on eating the new multiverse.

(52 #51)

Rip drags Booster out, back to the Time Sphere, where they travel back to the beginning.

(52 #52)

After the events of Infinite Crisis, the multiverse was recreated. 52 identical Earths came into existence, and the same struggle has been taking place on all of them. These Earths are slowly aligning, and for some reason, Rip can see this, but Booster can’t. (Hold tight: Let’s keep in mind, for some reason, Rip was totally non-linear earlier. We’ll come back to this.)

(52 #52)

Rip intends to save all of the Earths, as they slowly settle into the new multiverse, with help from Supernova! ...This time, Daniel Carter, the Carter family ancestor that Skeets/Mister Mind used earlier.

(52 #52)

Bad news is that Mister Mind is still bent on eating a universe. As he eats parts of the various Earths, he changes their history, which leads to each Earth being unique.

(52 #52)

Booster has doubts about their ability to face something this big, but Skeets, now broken from Mister Mind, cheers him on... Booster heads back to the one place he knows to get the right power source, and Rip hints about Booster’s “glory days” soon to come. So now we know there’s a connection between Booster and Rip.

(52 #52)

But where is Booster going to get that power source?

(52 #52)

The immediate aftermath of the first crisis, where he talks a little with very young Ted Kord. (Sad.) Now we have to wonder how Booster knows to go back here? How much about time travel does Booster know yet?

Anyway, together, Rip, Booster, and Daniel succeed in defeating Mister Mind, and the multiverse is restored. Rip is very optimistic!

(52 #52)

So... let’s cut to Booster Gold’s second solo. Notice the title of his first story is “52 Pick-Up.” Booster, after saving the multiverse, wants nothing more than to be a hero again. He wants to join the Justice League again! Unfortunately, he’s recruited by Rip Hunter once again, who makes it clear that Booster’s destiny lies in time travel instead. And the world needs to think Booster is an idiot.

(Booster Gold (2007) #1)

Notice how Rip mentions his father? We’re finally getting somewhere.

Meanwhile, the other weird Time Stuff, that’s going on. Back at Rip Hunter’s Lab, Rip has written a number of interesting things on his chalkboard again.

Notice how Rip notes 1939 (the year Detective Comics was first published), 1985 (Crisis on Infinite Earths), and 2006 (Infinite Crisis). This shows how the crises actually affect time in the DC universe. Rip is, of course, aware of it. Is Booster too? How else would he know about the first crisis?

What is the connection between Rip and Booster anyway? Why does Rip care so much about Booster? Well...

(Booster Gold (2007) #1000000)

That’s right! Booster is actually Rip Hunter’s dad! So a lot of stuff we’ve been over must make more sense now.

But seriously, the Carter family is heavily involved in time travel, and the way it interacts with them is interesting. We’ve already seen how Rip isn’t linear when the timestream is disrupted... but what about the other members? How does this all affect Booster?

Honestly, I’m not sure. And I just ran out of energy for this post. If you want to know more, send an ask! And read the comics. You will not regret it.

#megan liveblogs comics #well not exactly but this is pretty close ig #if i can make ONE person want to know more about booster and the carter family my job is done #i just spent hours on this mess and now i'm about to cry bc it's so bad i'm sorry

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heuristicallyinclined · 4 years ago

Text

Mallek Week 2021 Day 1: Robots

1.4k| AO3 Link

Beginning the final diagnostics scan signaled that your life was ending.

Well, this part of it. You think it might depend on how you define “life” and at this point you’ve got too much going on to wax fake philosophical on what it really even means to be alive. Especially when it doesn’t change the fact that you’re wrapping up the wetware portion of it.

Really you didn't see how you didn't think of this sooner. You spent so long looking for robots and studying their programming, figuring out what made them tick and make them do what you wanted. Not for this reason, but a guy can have a hobby that helps pay the bills. It taking this direction definitely fucking added to them.

You branched out from just fucking with other people’s shit and figured out how to make your own robot. It sounds a lot more impressive than it actually is. Basically anyone with the right tools could make one. Grab some hardware, attach a computer to it, string some code together, and give it a power source. Add some sensors if you’re feeling fancy. A simple machine is nothing to brag about.

And you didn’t want this to be a simple machine, you wanted to make it you.

The hardware was the easy part. It was mostly finding and acquiring parts that met your standards and your previous work experience gave you more than enough places to start looking. The more abstract shit like the outer casing was harder. A lot of late mornings researching different alloys trying to understand what percentage of aluminum made something not worth your time and how to get a specific blend without anyone asking too many questions. You had enough of those on your own.

The facial plates had to be more flexible, able to move in tandem and convey expression. It was a lot of extra work to not actually bring much practical benefit, but again, this wasn’t just a machine. This was you.

Maybe you briefly entertained the idea of maybe making some sort of silicone covering for situations where you would want to be more subtle about the robot thing. But that got tossed out pretty quickly. That shit ages fast and ends up looking creepy as fuck. So you decided to steer away from uncanny valley and embrace being a sick looking robot.

Customizing it helped ground you when you had to lean away from the tech side of biotech. Biology was never really your thing and not being gold meant you had put all of your focus in those inorganic skills since you didn’t have any psionics to help back you if you fucked up. It’s weird, looking at biological and artificial neural networks, laser etching in familiar patterns to keep your hands as busy as your pan while you were trying to figure out how to start with one and end with the other only to see how similar they were.

It wasn’t weirder than realizing that this might actually have a solid chance of working and not just frying your pan trying to do some stupid shit you weren’t meant to. This could work.

A chime brings your attention back to your screen. The scan is complete.

This is going to work.

You look away from your screen and look at it, you, lying ready on a table. You did good. It looks great. You wouldn’t mind spending time in that between changing out your outer plates and you even gave it some “piercings.” Figure you might as well keep something familiar on your face to help get used to it becoming made of metal.

And then you look off to the side of it, where the wires connected to it led, down the table and on the other side of the room to a glass recuperacoon for your body to rest indefinitely. You’d probably end up spending more time in there than the amount of time you spent in your actual coon throughout your life. Not really what you think your friends meant when they said you needed more sleep. You’re going to be beyond sleep soon.

You take a deep breath and execute your final program as a living, breathing troll and make your way into it.

You'd probably figure out a way to not need your body at some point. What would you do then? Get rid of it? Probably not. You never really got rid of anything. The mess surrounding you is a testament to that and how much of a sentimental fuck you can be. You’d probably just seal it and use it as another surface to pile things onto. You don’t think any amount of code is going to get you out of that habit.

You step in and lay down in the modified nutritional slime and wait, too wired to really register how cold it felt. Your nerves aren’t really helping either as you start wondering if this was just working out too well for you and you somehow missed something important. Still, you buzzing with the anticipation of something happening, good or bad.

You hear a low hum from around you.

The buzz is now literal as an electric current runs through the slime and you are left paralyzed with a steadily increasing static that encompasses all of you. Despite being submerged in liquid you feel like you are on fire and you are painfully aware of everything in your surroundings. This clarity that only enhances your agony. You feel it. You feel everything so much brighter and louder and more.

Until you don't.

Until your body is no longer able process the amount of stimulus it’s getting and simply chooses not to.

It's dark.

And then there is nothing.

Your vision comes back into focus slowly as you open your eyes and see a familiar crack in the ceiling. You think you're opening your eyes at least. It takes you longer than you want to admit to realize you’re adjusting your lenses.

Oh shit, it actually worked.

Slowly, you lift yourself with a weight that you simultaneously do and don’t recognize as your own. The whole thing is disorienting. At first you wonder if the way you perceive things and the way you understand them are out of sync. But then you get it, they aren’t out of sync, you’ve just have never gotten this much information about your surroundings at the same time before.

The closest comparison is it's like you're playing an fps. You are you, yes, but are above and around you and know things you otherwise wouldn’t if you had only just been perceiving from the perspective of someone seeing only what was in front of them. You’re doing a lot more than that now as even something as innocuous as your block floods you with information and even sitting still you are moving faster than you ever thought possible.

It’s a lot. It’s exhilarating.

You get off the table and check your balance, shifting your weight from one strutpod to the other before moving towards the mirror. Your steps grow more sure as you continue, getting more confident that you aren’t going to break this in the dumbest way possible.

And then you see yourself.

The silhouette matches the one you were expecting even if the features were off. Skin lighter and shinier than you were expecting and eyes glowing a menacing red. Some cobalt glints back at you and you can’t help but smile at the image of a pierced robot.

It works. Your face moves and all of the bullshit and work was worth it.

But there is still one final thing you need to try to know if you’ve really pushed every limit you can.

You go back to your husktop, all of the readings displayed are already known to you, and you minimize the window. You open your browser and click on a bookmark you had saved just for this moment.

A familiar window pops up asking you the same question you had answered hundreds, if not thousands of times before. You click the box, lying for the first time, and wait. A check mark appears and there are no words to describe the sheer amount of power you feel.

“i = in;” you smirk.

Notes: I don't know where you thought this was going, but I'm sorry I used this as a vehicle to make a single joke.

#my writing #mallekweek2021 #mallekweek

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xsailormobian · 4 years ago

Note

how would you rank Sonic girls in terms of power levels?

Hi Anon, sorry for taking a while! For this one I’ll proceed with categories, because many of the Sonic ladies are tied to the same rank and/or have fundamental differences between them that need to be acknowledged. This will be mainly about physical strength and won’t be an indicator of the girls’ character or general abilities outside of this criteria.

(Note: this is a subjective ranking, and not all of the girls are part of this list because there are a lot of female characters, some of which I don’t know enough about to include. Enjoy!)

1) Magical strength ✨

There are characters that, while not necessarily physically strong, can wield some form of magic and thus prove more deadly than someone with raw strength. Blaze with her fire power is a good example of that! Without them I’d probably put her in the fourth category, but her pyrokinesis coupled with her stamina and agility firmly place her as the leader of this category.

Other contenders include Merlina and Shahra, as they can both use magic as well. However we don’t know the full extent of Merlina’s powers, so her relative strength compared to other characters is debatable (though we should note the ease with which she beat Sonic to a pulp in SATBK). As for Shahra, her powers seem to be mostly tied to wish-granting, some of which she isn’t able to grant as a Ring Genie; which would create a lot of limitations to what she can do. And it’s also debatable how much their powers could work outside of their storybook worlds sooo... Blaze basically reigns supreme.

Number one in this category: Blaze the Cat

2) Raw physical strength + regular training 🔥

This is probably what you meant by “power levels” and, if we’re excluding magic users, the characters in this category are the true powerhouses of the Sonic franchise. And uuuh I could only think of two!

Bunnie and Amy are two of the physically strongest female characters, way beyond even the contenders of the third category due to the fact that their strength is one of their defining abilities. Bunnie is a Robian and has been shown to be able to lift people, trees, and many other heavy stuff with relative ease. And obviously she needs her whole body to be as strong as her robotic arm and legs otherwise she might, uh, break her spine trying to lift stuff. As for Amy, she has a giant hammer she can lift without any problems and use in fights, and she also trains a lot to get stronger if Sonic Battle is any indication.

On the whole, they’re pretty equal. If we’re excluding the cartoonish displays of Amy’s strength (Sonic X and co.) I’d say Bunnie is realistically the strongest because she has mastered her own strength. Amy, while really strong, is still young and mostly gets her bouts of energy from powerful emotions: while they temporarily make her surpass Bunnie in terms of raw power, they aren’t a constant and can get her into trouble/exhaust her needlessly. She will definitely surpass Bunnie at some point however because the latter’s cybernetic limbs have their limits, meaning that her strength is pretty much set for life. If Amy keeps on training and gaining discipline, she’ll definitely become the leading character in this category by the time she reaches Bunnie’s age.

Number one in this category: as of now, Bunnie Rabbot

3) Professionally trained and/or often on the field ⚔️

These characters would be the second physically strongest due to them being trained to fight, and thus having more discipline, knowledge, and control over their strength and weaknesses than characters from later categories.

One example would be Rouge since, as a government spy and G.U.N agent, she’d have to be pretty well trained to carry her missions to completion. Plus she tends to attack a lot with her legs, so I’d imagine most of her physical power would be there. Other professionally trained agents include Topaz and Madonna Garnet.

Then we have characters who aren’t exactly professionally trained but who still do train due to spending a lot of time on the battlefield. You’d have (I assume) Julie-Su, who is a melee kind of girl; Sally, who fights with swords and is pretty agile all around (though she’s more of a strategist and doesn’t have as much physical strength as, again I assume, Julie-Su would); and Whisper, who would be last because she’s a long-range fighter and thus tends to fight from a distance, though she’s familiar enough with battlefields to intervene if needed.

Note that while all of them have training and experience, how self-taught they are is up for us to guess. For this reason I would put Rouge as the leading character because she has shown a good display of physical strength and seems to be both the most mature and experienced of the bunch. Coupled with her flying abilities and craftiness, I think she could go toe-to-toe with someone much stronger than her like Bunnie (and defeat Amy pretty easily due to her aforementioned lack of discipline), which I wouldn’t say of the other trained ladies here.

Number one in this category: Rouge the Bat

4) Not trained, but have enhanced abilities putting them above average 👟

The title is pretty uninspired, but it says it all! These characters are rookies in some ways, either because they just started training to fight of simply because they aren’t fighters, but they have special abilities and/or potential putting them above the “average” category. Think Tangle with her tail, Cream with her ability to fly, Mina with her speed, and Honey with her wings.

Of the bunch, I’d say Honey and Mina are the weakest simply because they aren’t interested in fighting. Mina was (and I say it with love) a pretty lame Freedom Fighter and hasn’t used her speed all that much since becoming a pop star; as for Honey, while she can stand her ground in a fight, she’s ultimately a fashion designer above all.

Cream meanwhile wants to grow up and become a hero like the people she admires (mainly Sonic and Amy). This intent, coupled with her being able to fly and carry people, show that she has the potential to one day become leader of this category. Maybe more if she decides to pursue it further, but since she still has seeds of being a pacifist, I can also imagine her deciding to do something else when she’s older (exploring the world, taking care of animals and chao, etc.) For now I’d say Tangle takes the win because... well to start with, she isn’t six anymore haha; but also because she has shown physical strength and has started training herself seriously to become a hero. While still a rookie, she could definitely become an honorable member of the third category in the future.

Number one in this category: Tangle the Lemur

5) Average Jane 🍵

In a world full of fighters and overpowered characters, it’s not that surprising that the “average” category would come second to last. But here it is! Here you’ll find girls that aren’t fighters and don’t have any particular abilities, such as Elise (since she can’t control Iblis, and especially since Solaris has been erased from existence), Vanilla, Tekno and Sonia (who would have some knowledge about fighting but nothing more), Zooey, Perci and Staci, Jewel, and basically every female civilian you can think of.

I’ll also add Marine because although she has shown some kind of aqua powers at the end of Sonic Rush Adventure... I don’t exactly know what it is? She’s complicated haha. If it is really what it is then she’d probably be part of the fourth category alongside Cream.

Otherwise it’s pretty hard to choose a leading character because, well, this is the “average” category. I’ll go with Vanilla because she has mom energy and could intimidate anyone, which is a pretty impressive strength in itself.

Number one in this category: Vanilla the Rabbit

6) Not physically strong 🎐

And lastly, we have the female characters who are physically weaker than average. The most notorious example would be Maria, whose health was very fragile due to contracting NIDS at a young age. I would also include Cosmo by virtue of her being both a “plant” prone to dizziness and having very few offensive abilities, making her one of the weakest characters in the series; as well as Tikal because she’s... literally a spirit, as well as a pacifist (when alive she’d probably be on the weaker side of the fifth category).

And finally I would include Nicole as she is physically a hand-held computer and only has real powers in the digital world. On a physical plane, she can at most simulate a Mobian form for a while; but since she isn’t corporeal, she’d probably have really low physical strength. I would say she is the strongest of this category by virtue of her being versatile and able to carry a fight at the very least in the digital world, and still having a few abilities to defend herself and others in the physical world. (I debated making her part of the fourth category but since she mostly exists either as a computer or as an hologram, I felt it wouldn’t be fair to make her compete with Tangle or Honey).

Number one in this category: Nicole the Lynx

TL;DR: My final classment would be Blaze as the strongest thanks to her powers and her mastery over them, followed by Bunnie (who will one day be surpassed by Amy once she gains discipline), and then Rouge due to her experience as an agent. Thanks for reading!

#Answer #Blaze the Cat #Amy Rose #Bunnie Rabbot #Rouge the Bat #Tangle the Lemur #Vanilla the Rabbit #Nicole the Lynx

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taurusborus · 4 years ago

Text

someone translated more of the under the tides event on reddit if you're interested in reading wtf is going on.

I'll also add it under this in case it's easier to read.

Warning, if you don't want to leave the slightest bit of surprise for yourself when the event hits global, TURN BACK NOW!!

I made a comment thread yesterday with a story summary. However, I still left out a lot of things, so I thought I'd make a new post, add in more info about plot I left out, organize the Q&A from the thread, and link to the TLs of the new units. Hopefully a centralized hub of info will help people find the information they're looking for and dispel any of the more wild hearsay floating around.

This will be organized into a few sections, the new unit TLs, my original story summary, a bunch of (my new summaries) separate plot threads that tie into the bigger story, and then some common questions.

Skalter profile + lines TL

Gladiia profile + lines TL

Event CGs

Some good supplemental information about the seaborn hivemind

A much longer summary of each stage, 11 pages - courtesy of Lauli. If you want to know more about the townspeople, Inquisitors, and details on Kal'tsit's end conversation with the Inquisitors, take a look.

The original summary I made yesterday, the fastest crash course on the major story points. I have edited some of the references of the new factions to match the updated TLs from MrSkyblock404 so there's no confusion:

First of all, if you've ever read the manga Claymore, you now understand most of the event. Key differences are that the "Organization" is Aegir. They don't SEEM to be the villains here, and they went the Claymore route to fight the sea horrors fully knowing that their Claymores will eventually awaken into the sea horrors that need to be put down.

The "secret" of the Abyssal Hunters is that Aegirians created them as supersoldiers with the bodies of land dwellers but the blood of sea horrors. More on that down below.

The seaborn is part of the underwater cosmic horror hivemind that's been foreshadowed since the start of the game. Its interest is in learning, evolving, and assimilating everything (a la Evangelion's instrumentality more like end goal of Starcraft's zerg). It's acts primitively... robotic? It doesn't understand things like emotions and "Does not compute. We will learn what you mean" is a large part of its exposition. The church in the town is actually the Deep Sea Church hiding in Iberia and slowly indoctrinating remote towns and turning the people to sea horrors. The ending convo with Kal'tsit implies that Iberia is now completely infiltrated by the cult and if they maintain an isolationist policy, they will be destroyed like Aegir.

The seaborn shows up to impale Gladiia, and reveals the big "you [Abyssal Hunters] and I share the same blood. You are us. We are you." Skadi has a mental breakdown over the truth bomb ("I've killed my own transformed family and friends" etc. Glossing over the specifics, just know she doesn't take some past war trauma well), and it seems like the seaborn can somehow "awaken" the blood and turn Abyssal Hunters like Skadi into one of them.

Skadi is right about to awaken [and probably become Skalter, that seems to be the general consensus on CN forums right now, Skalter = Skadi if she gives in to the call] when Gladiia reveals she was sandbagging (yay superhuman regen abilities) so she could listen in on why the seaborn wanted to meet Skadi so badly. Since the seaborn revealed everything, Gladiia promptly kills it and tells Skadi to get her shit together. Skadi gets her shit together. As the seaborn dies, it says its people will learn to understand everything the Abyssal Hunters have told it, and then they will ask them to join the family again. Also, Specter is now free from whatever "control" the Deep Sea Church exerted over her, she's elated over being "free" now. She's still infected but compared to her previous half-dream state, she considers it a minor setback.

Then there's the Deep Sea Church leader dude who had no idea Hunters were also of seaborn blood and also has a mental breakdown. His entire life's work and dream is shattered because the cult crap he made up believed in is a lie, and the seaborn don't put any special weight on his existence and work. He turns into the SV-9 giant tentacle demon that the 3 Musketeers take down. Before he dies, he curses Gladiia and says some ominous things about how she's different and unlike the other 2, her fate is set. Then in the scene with the mirror, she's shitting on herself for being useless and still ending up like an ugly little bitch. The mirror closeup shows part of her neck starting to look like fish scales, so it seems like she's already undergoing the sea horror transformation.

The town situation

The town has fallen on hard times, and the Deep Sea Church has slowly indoctrinated the population with Iberian values twisted into a pro-seaborn slant. These towns become experimentation grounds for the Church and seaborn. Gladiia confirms that she's been busy destroying many of these experiment grounds. The Church now provides the town with food from the sea when the tide comes. There is also a human sacrifice chosen by lottery, which the Church disguises as "the sea has chosen you to take into its embrace and provide a better life." Kind of like how parents tell their kids their dead dog went to live on a farm. The brainwashed people genuinely believe they have a better life and see it as the greatest honor.

The "food" the sea provides are the "dormant" state of severely injured Dinichthys, which regress into a more resilient meaty form while it recovers. This dormant state is edible (ugh) and what the people harvest during the tide. The unlucky human sacrifice walks into the tide to be eaten by the Dinichthys and thus what the sea giveth, it ultimately taketh.

I would like to note that the Church leader has made an appearance before this event. He has a substantial role in one of the story scenes in Archetto's event. I won't ruin the surprise, but if you pay attention to the setting, you'll know which scene it is before he shows up.

Deep Sea Church agenda and the seaborn

The Deep Sea Church are likely the major instigators of this major "sea vs land" conflict. According to the seaborn that shows up in the Church, the general seaborn population are territorial and generally abide by the animal instinct of survival of the fittest, there is no right or wrong if you kill to survive. The seaborn's behavior and inability to lie show that they indeed don't give a damn about individual seaborn, the Church's plans, or even the Church leader.

Distinction needs to be made between the general seaborn population and the seaborn used by the Church, the latter which could be artificially created. The Church leader is Iberian, but somewhere along the way managed to become part seaborn, which is why the seaborn will listen to him. Being part seaborn allows him to "weaponize" the true seaborn population for his own agenda.

The seaborn themselves indeed have a goal to evolve and and expand (from Skalter's profile). But to what degree the Terra conflict can be attributed to seaborn passive expansion vs. the Deep Sea Church's hostile accelerationism is not clear.

Thus, there's an interesting 3-way disparity between how the conflict is perceived.

* Abyssal Hunters: believes all seaborn must be eradicated * Seaborn: not really interested in the conflict * Church: "it is the will of seaborn to subjugate all"

Regardless, Gladiia has constantly repeated she doesn't give a shit about the seaborn's role in the Church's schemes. Her duty is to kill seaborn, and she's not going to discriminate.

Kal'tsit creates a cliffhanger every time she shows up at the end of any event

After the church-leader-turned-giant-tentacle-demon is killed, its enormous corpse is like a beacon calling to all the Dinichthys zerglings to swarm the area. The 3 Musketeers are like "ok fuck what now" and Kal'tsit swoops in with perfect timing to call Mont3r to completely destroy and bury the ground and its secrets.

She's here to direct the 3 Musketeers to leave Iberia and rendezvous with Misery to go back to RI for a vacation (yes, she actually says they get vacations). The Inquisitors also show up to stop everyone, and after giving them her usual condescending finger-wag-and-lecture, she offers to stay as hostage/information source in an Abyssal Hunter's stead. Her agenda is to convince the Iberian powers to ask for help instead of maintaining an isolationist policy. If they continue to keep it internal, they will be destroyed like Aegir.

She has some atypical kind words for the 3 Musketeers before they leave. To Skadi, she makes a throwback to some cryptic bullshit she said in Grani event. To Specter, she makes some banter about her newfound freedom and moving forward knowing her body's state.

And then it turns out she and Gladiia planned for almost everything before the Skadi sets off for Saltwind City.

The state of Iberia and Aegir

Aegir is pretty much sunken Atlantis. Gladiia says that there's no communication in and out of Aegir after the Calamity.

The Abyssal Hunters were created as just one small piece of Aegir's military power. Aegirians are fully aware of the Abyssal Hunters' eventual fate to turn into the enemy, and have special patrols out to monitor and kill any who turned. The seaborn confirms that they had nothing to do with those deaths. The people Skadi killed and watched get killed, those were all done by her own people. This does not help her mental state.

Iberia has likely attempted to replicate Aegir's Abyssal Hunters. We don't have story on the result of this project, but based on clues in her profile, Andreanna might have some connection to it.

In Kal'tsit's "I know everything" exposition, she states that Iberia once had a prosperous Golden Age, and is now a shadow of its former glory. As stated before, the Deep Sea Church has also infiltrated all levels of Iberian government. Thorns' profile says he left because of "religious strife" and how in recent years treatment of Aegirs in Iberia has gotten worse. All the breadcrumbs are building up to Iberia potentially getting the same kind of Calamity that destroyed Aegir. (See Skalter page's TL note on Calamity.)

Bunch of misc info that don't really fit anywhere else, from yesterday's thread Q&A

It's established that Abyssal Hunters are not allowed to bleed, especially on land. The seaborn says the swarms of cannon fodder zerglings can smell the "same blood" on the Abyssal Hunters. But they're a bit stupid, so their brains only know "this is the blood of my kind, but why is it trapped inside hooman skin?" instead of recognizing it's not a trapped comrade.

Their attacks on Abyssal Hunters are attempts to "free" their kind from the trappings of hooman skin. The more the Hunters bleed, the more frenetic the swarms get, because they know they are getting closer to freeing them.

If you are a Specter fan, you will absolutely love the scenes after she wakes up. The ensuing conversations show that the Abyssal Hunters cherish their close connections like everyone else, despite their usual "stay away from me I'm dangerous" vibes. I really hate how Specter's operator record turned out, and I'll keep salting about it, but this event really did her justice.

Question: Is story Skadi already Skalter? She is wearing the same clothes.

Answer:

No, and this is the biggest misconception that needs to be cleared. At no point in the story does Skadi fully awaken. She comes close but pulls back just in time. The in-universe reason Skadi changes into her wandering songstress wardrobe is that she needs a box carrying her "instruments" (her sword and Specter's chainsaw) and to avoid suspicion while sneaking into Saltwind City. There are two high ranked law enforcement officers (something like that) after her, who know she's an Aegir and a possible threat. In story, she's still guard Skadi. Devs probably wanted to keep the red getup on Skalter to differentiate between the two units.

Question: Why did the seaborn want to meet Skadi so badly?

Answer:

It's not entirely clear thanks to hYpErGRyPh oBtUsE wRiTinG. Every time the sea heir talks about how much it wanted to meet Skadi and perhaps why, Skadi or cult leader interrupt with their mental breakdown monologue. My interpretation of its reasons is a combination of desire to share knowledge with her (learning is constantly repeated as a goal of the sea horrors), extend an invitation to join the hivemind, and ask a question, explained below.

There are flashbacks to this one suicide mission she and her Abyssal Hunter squad had against one particular sea horror. Her entire unit died and she barely made it out after landing a fatal strike on it. Based on Skadi's mental breakdown, it sounds like that sea horror is like the Zerg Overmind, a central connection for the sea horror hive mind.

There's some exposition about how the Overmind isn't really dead, and it's gone into Hibernation Mode because though it no longer responds to communication, the sea horrors can still feel its pulse.

His specific question was whether Skadi heard the Overmind say anything before it went dormant. More Skadi breakdown, because she did. It said (rough TL) "[our] suffering is eternal." The "our" is ambiguous. It could be referring to Skadi and the Abyssal Hunters, since she's the one narrating, or it could be the Overmind and the sea horrors, who Skadi is repeating. I'm leaning toward the Abyssal Hunters since "being abyssal hunter is suffering" has been a core takeaway of this event.

And then Gladiia stops playing dead and kills off our sole source of Aegir lore :)

Question: Is Skalter/Under Tides canon?

Answer:

The events that happen in Under Tides is canon. Skalter's canon status is in existential limbo. As MrSkyblock404 has reiterated, devs have directly said Skalter is a POSSIBLE future in which Skadi gives into the call.

Question: But isn't the fate of every Abyssal Hunter to eventually turn into Seaborn?

Answer:

Technically yes. The call will never fade, so the moment it overpowers the Abyssal Hunter's will to resist, it will have won. But I say technically because the other side of the tug-of-war is the Abyssal Hunter's own willpower. There are hints scattered throughout that their fates aren't set in stone. As Gladiia said to Skadi in her "get your shit together" moment, if you don't want to become a seaborn, then you won't. Not to mention, they can always ask to be killed by another's hands before they fully turn, so they can die as "themselves". This is like the black card system in Claymore. Skalter's E2 promotional record also has this part:

Well, but that's not what I want to say to you today. What I want to say is that when they want to acquire a structure, they transform in that direction.

Skadi, since those creatures can become what they want to be of their own volition ...... Then you can also not become a certain way by your own will. You can do what you want to do.

For example, an Abyssal Hunter. Or, a little more freely, a bounty hunter.

The seaborn as a collective are naturally able to "focus" their evolution toward a specific direction. So as an individual, Skadi should also have a degree of control over what she does and doesn't want to become. Gladiia is implied to still be undergoing transformation despite her obvious obstinance, but the Deep Sea Church leader says she's different from the other 2 and her fate is sealed. As one of the first Abyssal Hunter prototypes, Gladiia might not be able to resist like the later Hunter prototypes.

If you made it this far, nice job! I hope that helps the EN community understand the tsunami of information that got dumped on us in the event.

If there are questions, post in the comments and I will do my best to answer them. Corrections to information in this thread and swapping notes with other CN readers are very welcome!

EDIT: Removed the spoiler bars since I got feedback that it was annoying to click on each paragraph. I've also added a new section "Deep Sea Church agenda and the seaborn" to clarify all the relationships defined in the story.

Also loving the connections the comments are making to other media. I personally made this post because I am a massive Claymore fan. Seconding one commentor, I highly recommend Claymore, it's a gem that's passed a lot of manga readers' radars. I'm also giving Bloodborne and Dragon Age a shot after the event.

EDIT 2: Thanks to the awesome ak-lore group on the official Discord, I've since made a number of corrections on key points. They are in the sections The town situation, Deep Sea Church agenda and the seaborn, and The state of Iberia and Aegir.

#arknights #so the abyssal hunters are similar to grey wardens from dragon age #and the seaborn are kiiiiiinda like darkspawn? like the higher thought seaborns are more individuals but the lesser seaborn creaters aren't #there's a comment the op made that explains this bit more if you're interested #also sorry for weird formatting if you see extra spaces #I tried to fix some of them but there's a lot so I gave up LOL

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irondad-not-ironsad · 4 years ago

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WandaVision Episode 1 Reaction

Spoilers below!!

I enjoy the music over the marvel logo

But also a 43 second logo feels kinda long for a 29 minute episode- is it just for the premier or is this gonna happen before each ep?

Also I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that there is a title sequence, which will probably be similar in length. Combine that with the lengthy credits people have been complaining about, it seems that the percentage of the thirty minutes that is actually the story is lower than it should be

not that I don’t love a good title sequence! But I’ll take a well fleshed out episode over fancy logos, title sequences and credits any day

now that I’ve got that of my chest, on to the actual show

I like how they have the frame shaped like that of an old timey tv, combined with the black and white it really adds to the old timey sit come vibe

I like these bells

Ok I know I complained about to much time being wasted with logos and such, but i LOVE how cheesy this theme song is and I love them showing vision and Wanda driving tp there house in wedding attire

“A regular husband and wife” 2 seconds late *vision disappears into a cloud of sparkles*.... 1 minute 8 seconds in and I love this

Even there acting is reminiscent of an old timey sit com this is amazing

feel like I should note he title sequence ends at the 1.36 mark approximately, which may not seem like a lot but again the show is less than thirty minutes so it adds up

Wanda talks with a fifties accent: I already love this show

Also I wish I had magic I could use to clean, I’m moving back into my dorm right now and Wanda’s powers would be SO helpful

Also I LOVE the laugh track

Also Wanda’s short curly hair is so cute

I love how neither of them knows what the heart means so they play it off by being like “yeah of course I know what it means, how could I forget? Do YOU remember what it means

Also Vision is literally part computer shouldn’t he have a photographic memory?

Also how old is Wanda? I could have sworn someone said she was 19 in civil war, which would make her like 21 here? I think?? Idk tho, as a 19 year old I don’t think she has ever looked 19 in the movies, even back in Ultron she looked at least in her mid twenties

The face Vision makes when he makes himself human is so funny

Also Vision blowing Wanda a kiss and her reaching back to grab it is the perfect amount of corny that makes it still cute

Also I wonder what vision’s job is

The backing music is so funny

I can already tell Agnes is going to be some great comic relief in a show that’s already hilarious

“I assure you, I’m married. To a man. A HUMAN one!” I know I’ve said before that I was never the biggest fan of Wanda or Vision but I love Wanda in this show

Obv there is something clearly off here, but I feel like I need to mention that it’s clear this is some warped reality. If I had never seen any of the MCU before, I may believe it was just witch and her robot husband living in the fifties, but the little details really make it clear to the audience (the majority of whom I am sure are familiar with the mcu) that something is off. This scene is one of those, where Wanda cannot seem to recall how long her and Vision have been together and plays it off by saying “It feels like we always have been together”

Is Agnes giving Wanda advice for the bedroom? is this really what I’m watching? Or have I wildly misinterpreted this?

Love the old timey lingo

Vision working a desk job is so funny

Love that vision doesn’t even know what they do at his job, I know it’s part of the false reality thing but also lowkey relatable

“you’re like a walking computer” “I most certainly am not! I’m a regular carbon-based employee made entirely of organic matter”

I started this like twenty minutes ago and have only gotten 7 minutes in because I keep stopping to type my reactions. I am going to try to shut up and watch, and stop screaming about every little detail for a bit 😂

Real quick though does Vision just go by Vision at work?

Ope apparently he does.

I wonder if Vision took Wanda’s last name

Or is he Vision Stark-Banner since it was Tony and Bruce who made him??

He probably isn’t called that but I think it would be funny if he was

Love that instead of writing “dinner with boss” or “Dinner w/ Harts” or even just “Harts” he drew a freaking heart like im dying

if my lack of emojis seems weird I’m typing this on a computer which I never normally do and I’m to lazy to pull up the emoji keyboard, so basically imagine there’s a cry laughing emoji after everything funny

“No skeletons in the closet?’ “I don’t have a skeleton sir.”

Yup I was right, Agnes is giving her sexy time advice

“you should stumble when you walk in a room so he can catch you. It’s romantic!” that is the only way I will be flirting from now on

Also I got to say, I'm guessing it’s a fifties thing but those pointy bras don’t look comfortable

So she answers the phone “Vision Residence” Is Vision also their last name now? Does he go by Vision Vision??

They make the best facial expressions

This phone conversation where Wanda think they’re having a date night whereas Vision is talking about his boss coming for dinner is comedy GOLD

also I love the fact that they’re giving us stereotypical sitcom drama while keeping it clear that there are bigger problems than dinner with the boss

Fake commercial break is at 9.56 (these time stamps are for myself I want to calculate how much of the episode is actually the story)

I do love the fake commercials tho! And I suppose in a way they ARE part of the show

They missed the chance to make it the toastmate three thousand and make every ironman fan cry

The beeping toaster sounds like a ticking bomb..... also the little red light is the only color we’ve seen this episode I think

Commercial ends at 10.46

Also love that it was an SI toaster, still wish they had made it 3000 instead of 2000

How did Wanda confuse Mr. Hart with her husband? Not that I’m complaining, her coming out in a robe and covering Vis’ Boss’ eyes is HILARIOUS

“This is the traditional Sokovian greeting? Didn’t I tell you my wife is from Europe?” “How exotic!” “We don’t break bread with Bolsheviks”

Visions pants are SO high waisted

“It’s our anniversary!” “Our anniversary of WHAT?” “WELL IF YOU DON”T KNOW I”M NOT GONNA TELL YOU”

Poor Vision is trying to figure out what kind of company he works for this is sooo funny

Agnes coming in clutch with a full meal

So Wanda needs the ingredients in order to magic a meal she can’t just make one appear

Vision breaking into song was amazing

How did one chicken turn into like 30 eggs

Vision is singing old McDonald with his bosses wife this is great

“Diane!” “That must be my wife summoning me!” “She calls you Diane?” “Yes... it’s her pet name for me” “I’m coming... Fred”

So many clichés in this show but it’s done in such a purposeful way that it’s still funny

Also we have only seen three rooms: the kitchen, the living room and Vision’s workplace

“Well I think tonight’s going SWIMMINGLY”

Mrs. Hart is SO NOSY

But I love that they don’t know the answers

Wanda looks SO disturbed when Mr. Hart is demanding her and visions story, you can tell her mind is fighting itself and it’s so sad

Mr. Hart is choking, is it bad that I think he deserves it?

Mrs. Hart keeps cheerily repeating stop it, and gone is the stereotypical sitcom camera angles and and the backing music is switched for something eery

This is lowkey scary, Mr. Hart Dying while his wife keeps cheerily saying Stop It and it just feels creepier the more she repeats

Wanda looks distressed and vision is just looking to her for what to do, her old timey accent is gone and she sounds nearly robotic as she tells Vision to help

Poor Wanda, she is so clearly going through it mentally right now

Laugh track is back, and just like that the Harts are leaving, despite only having one bite of food

And somehow Mr. Hart is impressed? Was Wanda rewriting reality to make them so?

I know that this is clearly some alternate reality and nothing is right, but wanda and vision deciding to choose that day as there anniversary and this little convo here is soooooo cute

Aw her making them rings and them both saying I do is soooo cute

And vision saying “and they lived happily ever after’ is so sweet but also so sad in context

What is that little remote vision is holding meant to be?

And love the hexagon closing in on them with the cute music playing to end the episode

Are the people in these credits real? Because it lists the start as Wanda Maximoff and Vision but are the rest actual people?

So there is some sketchy dude watching the maybe fake credits so there's something going on there

The actual credits start with 7.13 left and I’ve been told there's no mid or post credits scene. I’ll let them play while I finish this up anyways

8 minutes and 49 seconds of this show is the logo, title sequence and credits. Out of 29.36 total this means only 20 minutes and 47 seconds is the show, which I suppose is standard for a sitcom but I think I felt deceived by it showing as 29 minutes

Also 50 seconds of “commercial takes the show time down to 19.57 if anyone was wondering

I swear tho I’m not all that bothered by the length, just did the math in case anyone was curious like I am.

I thought I was going to really enjoy this going it, but it still really surpassed my expectations and I can’t wait for episode 2!

This is my raw reactions, but I’m sure that as I mull it over more I’ll be posting more about the show

This is somehow a perfect combo of lighthearted comedy and mild horror

I wanna let this episode stew for a while, so I prob won’t watch episode 2 for at least a day

Also what are your guys’ thoughts on this format of reaction? Did I write to much?

Also what did y’all think of this episode? Feel free to let me know what you think of my reaction, and whether you agree or disagree. I’d love to hear your thoughts!

#anna reacts to wandavision #anna reacts #wandavision #mcu #marvel #avengers #scarlet witch #vision #wanda maximoff #disney plus #wandavision spoilers #wv spoilers #mcu spoilers #marvel spoilers

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fiftyshadesofcorona · 4 years ago

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Fifty Shades of Corona

A Brief Note Before You Begin

This novel is intended to be semi-satirical and "so stupid that it's funny", so please do not take it too seriously. It is meant to be savored enjoyed, sip by precious sip, like a fine wine…or something…either alone or amongst your most well-humored friends.

Epigraph

“But it is only in epic tragedies that gloom is unrelieved. In real life tragedy and comedy are so intermingled that when one is most wretched ridiculous things happen to make one laugh in spite of oneself.”

Georgette Heyer

Prelude

The forested roads of Northern Washington are eery and empty as I race back to him.

It was the last thing that I expected to happen during the global Coronavirus pandemic.

It came on fast, terrifying and all-consuming—gripping my heart and invading my mind.

I still can’t believe it…

I’ve fallen in love.

I glance over at my phone resting silently on the passenger’s side seat.

My stomach twists with grief and my knuckles go bone-white against the steering wheel.

Why hasn’t he called?!

What if—

I shake the thought away before I can finish it. If I let my mind go there it will be the end of me.

A few days ago, I didn’t even know he existed.

Now I don’t know whether I’ll ever be able to exist again without him.

I swipe at my cheeks, hot tears streaking my hand.

This is bad.

This is so so bad.

The seaside exit comes into view.

I lean forward and take a deep breath, trying to compose myself.

Nearly there.

I hope he’s okay.

I hope I can see him.

Even if it’s our last goodbye.

Tears well in my eyes.

I hope I’m not too late.

Chapter One

The Mob

“See you tomorrow, Ana! And thanks for bringing the cupcakes. They were delicious!”

I turn to wave goodbye to my coworker Jessica, who’s still busy stocking the shelves with sewing supplies. Jessica’s the only other worker here at Karen’s Krafts besides myself and our dome-haircut-wielding owner-slash-manager, Karen.

“I’m glad you liked them,” I say brightly. “They’re my grandmother’s recipe. Super easy.”

“No kidding?” she says, looking surprised. “Well tell your grandma her recipe was the bomb.”

“Will do. See you tomorrow!” I begin to clock out of the computer, but stop to add, “And good luck with the crowds. This Coronavirus stuff is crazy!”

Jessica steps back and gives me a look.

“Tell me about it! I’m running low on toilet paper, but nobody has it stocked.”

“Dang. That sucks.”

“Ch—tell me about it.”

I finish clocking out.

“Anyway,” I say, sighing. “I better get going. I have to make a run and try to pick up some…ahem…lady products…if you know what I mean.”

Jessica’s eyes get big. “Oh no, Ana. You can’t be serious!”

“Very serious. I’m all out.”

Jessica frowns. “I would give you some of mine if I had them, but I’m all out, too. Good thing it’s not my time of the month.”

My eyebrows arch up to my hairline. “Consider yourself lucky.”

“Shit, here she comes,” Jessica whispers.

When I look up, Jessica’s back at work stocking the bobbins and thread.

My manager Karen waddles up to the register and lingers over the back of my shoulder. I finish straightening up the counter, trying my best not to recoil from the hot puffs of breath hitting the back of my neck. I peek back at her dome haircut and put on my customer-service smile.

“What’s up? How did you like the cupcakes?”

I try to guess whether she has a complaint or is just bored. Those are the only two reasons I’ve ever seen Karen willingly leave her office. The unpleasant expression on her face tells me nothing, as it is a permanent feature of hers.

“Cupcakes?” she says distractedly. Glancing down, I notice she’s clutching a clipboard with something on it. Her lips move silently as she reads from whatever it is.

I clear my throat. “I brought some cupcakes this morning. German chocolate. Very tasty.”

She says nothing, so I grab my purse from under the counter. “I hoped they might cheer everybody up. You know, with the virus and all?”

“Virus?!” Her head snaps up, eyes bulging. “You have the virus?!”

“No, I made cupcakes to cheer every—“ I start to explain, but stop myself when I see the blind panic on her face. “No. I don’t have the virus.”

She relaxes and heaves a sigh of relief, which hits me square in the face.

The smell! I hold my breath and try not to make a face.

I shift my purse on my shoulder and open my mouth to tell her goodbye when she spits out, “Say, can I speak to you for a sec?”

Crap. This can’t be good.

“Sure,” I say, forcing cheer into my voice. I set my purse on the counter and wait for her to continue. She clears her throat wetly, looks down at her clipboard, then clears her throat again.

Yep, definitely bad news. I brace myself.

“Ana, we’ve decided to let you go.”

My shoulders tense, and there’s a rush of something terrible down in my stomach.

“Today is your last day,” she continues, reading robotically from her clipboard.

Is she serious? I’ve worked here for a year and a half, never been late for a single shift, and always gotten stellar performance reviews. I’m basically a model employee!

“Thank you for the work you’ve done here, and I wish you the best in your future endeavors,” she finishes.

“You’re firing me?” I ask in a small voice that surprises even me.

“Not exactly…but sort of.”

This can’t be happening. “Wh—what did I do wrong?”

“I didn’t say you did anything wrong, did I?” She looks put-out, another typical expression of hers.

My shoulders relax a little.

“Did you even listen to a word I said?” she says, shaking her head. “I said you’re being put on non-disciplinary indefinite leave.”

I cock my head, confused. “Um, I don’t think that’s what you said.”

She huffs and holds the clipboard back up.

“It’s exactly what I said. See, right here.”

She jabs a finger at the page, face reddening as she purses her lips.

Jeez. And I thought she looked unpleasant before…

She slaps the clipboard onto the counter. “Either way I’m saying it now.”

“So, I’m not fired?”

Crap. I’m so confused right now.

“No,” she huffs again. “You’re not fired. But you’re no longer scheduled for any shifts. And we’ll be taking you off the payroll.”

“Um…okay…”

That sounds a lot like being fired, but I decide not to push the subject.

Tears press at the corners of my eyes as I take a moment to process everything. Karen must notice, because she lets out another sigh and steps towards me. Her hand thumps heavily on my shoulder. “But I want you to know that it’s not you, it’s us.” She pats me once, then steps back, looking pleased with herself.

I suddenly feel like I’m going through an awkward breakup. Which I guess I am in a way.

“Wow. Um…What a surprise.” I catch myself wringing my hands so I stop. “Is it because of the virus?”

“Of course it’s because of the virus!” she shouts. “What else would it be? It’s certainly not my fault! I’ll have you know that Karen’s Krafts is extremely successful,” she gestures wildly. “Perhaps the most successful small business in all of Seattle!“

“You’re right, Karen.” I quickly say the three magic words that always calm her when she gets like this.

Sure enough, she lowers her arms and tries to composes herself.

“You probably haven’t noticed, Ana, but we’re not doing as much business as usual.”

In fact, I have noticed. The store has been totally dead for the last week and a half. But I don’t want to risk setting her off again, so I stay quiet. Luckily, she doesn’t seem to expect me to reply.

“Nothing like the grocery stores,” she says with a bitter laugh. She shakes her head and gives a shrug. “Just have to let some people go for the time being.”

“How long until I’m able to come back?”

She shrugs her shoulders again.

“No way to know. I’m only keeping Jessica because she’s my niece.”

I nod my head.

“Right, right. Makes sense.” Not really, but whatever. I’m totally against nepotism. It sucks and it’s everywhere, but there’s no getting away from it—sort of like Coronavirus.

“Of course it makes sense. That’s why I’m doing it!” Karen snaps. She snatches up her clipboard and turns to walk away. “Anyway, if things get better I’ll call you. Make sure you answer.”

“Thanks,” is all I can muster in response as she disappears into the restroom.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, everything sinks in.

I just lost my job.

During a global pandemic.

“Oh, and Ana!” Karen’s voice booms from the toilet.

I knew she’d change her mind!

“Yes?!” I call out brightly.

“Don’t forget to leave your name tag.”

My shoulders fall.

“Sure thing, Karen.” I unpin the familiar badge from my shirt and set it on the counter. It looks as small as I feel. I take a few deep breaths and turn to leave. All I want right now is to get the hell out of here and get home as soon as possible so I can relax, have a good cry, and think over what to do next.

A thought occurs to me.

What am I going to do about my rent?

Crap. I can feel the tears coming…

A second later, my sadness turns to anger, and I clench my fists.

This sucks so f-ing bad. Like, what the heck did I ever do to deserve this! Ugh!

I force myself to remain composed. This isn’t the time to break down into hysterics.

I give myself a little pep talk.

Calm down, Ana. You’re a fully grown, strong, capable young woman. You’ll get through this. All you need to do is grab hold of your big girl panties and ride them clear up the crack of your ass so hard there’s no chance in hell they’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.

Now that my spirits have been sufficiently lifted, I’m ready to take on the world. Or at the very least, my own small corner of it.

I stop in front of the exit to check my phone and notice seven missed phone calls and three missed text messages from my mother.

I roll my eyes. Of course. She’s a typical narcissistic, panicky boomer. At sixty-five years old she’s never worked a day in her life, attends church two to three times per week, and still believes in the magic of prayer. It may sound like I hate her, but I don’t. She annoys me, sure. But deep down I keep telling myself she has my best interest at heart, even if what her heart is telling her isn’t actually what’s in my best interest…if that makes any sense. With that said, whatever she has to say is certain to irritate me far beyond what I’m currently able to stand.

I decide to get it over with.

I take a deep breath and read the first text.

Mom: Ana, this is your mother. Just texting to let you know I called. I’m very worried about you with all of this virus stuff going on. Praying for you. Love Always, Your Mother.

Okay. Fairly normal so far given the circumstances. Maybe I was wrong to judge her so quickly.

I scroll down to the second text, which looks like it was sent…I squint to see—oh yes: exactly three minutes after the first one, and two minutes after the last three phone calls.

Mom: Ana, this is your mother. I’ve been praying and praying for you to call me back. I am deeply worried about you. I’ve tried calling you three more times. It’s not like you to ignore my phone calls, especially during such dark and uncertain times as these. Call me back as soon as you get this. My heart is hurting to know if my sweet little Ana is okay. Love Always, Your Mother.

A little worse this time, but not the worst I’ve seen.

I brace myself for the third text, which I know will be bad because it was sent exactly two minutes after the second text, and one minute after the last three calls.

Mom: Ana, this is your mother. I’m seriously freaking out right now. I keep having visions of you lying in a body bag, stiff as a frozen lamb chop and twice as cold. Why are you being such an obstinate, petulant child? I keep calling and calling, and still no answer. I keep praying and praying, but still no answer. Why aren’t you answering me, dear daughter? Why aren’t you answering me, dear Lord? My heart is heavy with sorrow and worry for the precious daughter I raised and nurtured by the milk of my own breasts. I’m so scared, sweet daughter. My nerves are frazzled and frayed beyond mortal repair. I feel as though I may collapse into a puddle of eternal sorrow. My heart is aching for you, my sweet dear little girl. My sweet, sweet precious daughter. Oh Lord, why have you forsaken her? Call me as soon as you get this. Love Always, Your Mother.

Okay, what the hell? I’m not even going to get started on how freaking weird that was.

I decide it might be better to wait until I get home to call her back. Something tells me the phone call won’t be quick, and I really need to get to the store to get my lady supplies, so I decide to opt for a text instead.

Ana: Calm down, Mom. I’m fine. I just got off work, and now I have to make a run to Wholesome Foods for some supplies. Please don’t worry. I’ll call you as soon as I get home. Love, Ana.

Hopefully that suffices to stave off the insanity.

My phone immediately pings with her reply.

Mom: Sounds good. Love Always, Your Mother.

Simple enough. A little odd, given the texts that came before it, but I’ll take it.

I pause and look out the front door before leaving. Beyond the window, thin sheets of rain coat the steamy sidewalks of Seattle. I notice most of the people who pass by look panicked. Ever since the Coronavirus started everyone has seemed more alert and on edge. At first I found it exciting, because they all seemed less depressed and more alive. But now it’s beginning to worry me.

I finger the small silver cross bracelet my grandmother gave me for my sixteenth birthday. It had been my great-grandmother’s before it was hers, but I never got the full story behind it. I do, however, remember her telling me it was for courage and strength, which is what I need most right now.

I take a deep breath and push through the door.

The door bell dings, and once I’m outside I breathe in the cool damp air. The rain is lighter than I expected—more of a mist really, so I decide to leave my umbrella unopened and gaze up at the silver clouds as they roil and swirl above me. There’s something wonderful about their movement, and I find myself getting lost in them.

DING! DING! DING! RIGHT SIDE!

My peaceful reverie is rudely interrupted.

DING! DING! DING! RIGHT SIDE!

Shit! Cyclists!

DING! DING! DING!…

I leap left at the last moment, barely dodging a small herd of spandex-clad cyclists thrusting through the crowd like they own the street. I brace myself against a tree to keep from falling over, when one of them—a middle-aged man-child with greying temples—looks back at me and scowls.

I put up my hand to apologize even though he’s probably the one who should be apologizing.

He turns and mutters something under his breath that sounds like “Bitch” and keeps pedaling.

I turn and bite my fingernail. What an asshole.

Crap.

I pull my fingers out of my mouth. That’s probably not the best thing I could be doing during a global viral outbreak.

I reach into my purse for some hand sanitizer and slather the cool alcohol over my fingers.

Two steps into my walk, my phone buzzes.

What now?

I check my phone. It’s Stacy, my best friend and roommate.

Stacy: Are you off work yet!?

My thumbs tap out a reply.

Ana: Just got off.

I look up from my phone. A woman who looks like she might have been sane a week ago but who is now basically a bag lady passes by me with a shopping cart full of bathroom supplies, screaming “Fuck you! Got mine!”

As she passes, I look closer at her hand and spot what appears to be a taser.

I pause and make a face. What the hell has this world come to?

My phone buzzes with another text.

Stacy: Cool. Check it. Blue fish bowls. Remember these things?

A cotton-candy-filtered photo pops up of Stacy slurping down a big blue fishbowl margarita.

I smile at Stacy’s exaggerated duck face.

Then I notice Dezzy in the background. Dezzy’s the friend Stacy brought down to Florida with her for Spring Break instead of me. She looks drunk as she flashes a peace sign with one hand and a middle finger with the other. Ugh. Dezzy can be such a… I’m not even going to say it. She’s always hated me for reasons, which is strange because I never had a problem with her. Oh well. Best to ignore it.

Ana: Looks like fun.

Stacy: ’Tis. ’Tis.

I’m tempted to tell her about being put on indefinite leave, but I don’t want to ruin her good time, so I tuck my phone away. The bad news can wait.

I pass by a homeless man trying to sell face masks on the street corner. As I pass by, I notice half of them are covered in dirt stains and are clearly used, and it’s obvious he’s been digging through the local hospital dumpster to find them.

He shoves one in my face.

“Twenty dollars!”

I move away from him. “No thanks.”

He follows me a few steps. “Ten dollars!”

I shake my head, wincing.

“Five!”

“I’m fine,” I laugh nervously. “Really.”

“Fine. One dollar. Final offer.”

“But they look like you found them in a dumpster, sir!”

“Still good. See, clean enough.” He dangles it in front of my face and turns it so I can see all the sides.

I pull out a dollar and hand it to him, but tell him he can keep the mask.

“You need a mask,” he says, and tries to put it on my face.

“Fine, I’ll take it.” I quickly grab the mask out of his hand before he’s able to touch my face with it.

“God bless!” he spits through his last remaining tusk, and turns to his next victim.

I hold the mask as far away from my body as possible, and toss it in the nearest garbage can. When I turn back to see if the homeless man saw me I catch him glaring at me.

“Sorry,” I mouth.

He scurries over to the garbage can to retrieve it.

Shit!

I run through the crowd to get away from him, and I don’t stop until I’m nearly a block away, where I pull out my phone and text Stacy.

Ana: You should see it here, Stacy. Things are getting crazy.

Stacy: Yeah, no shit. I saw the news. Seattle blows. Florida is way more fun!

Ana: I bet. How’s the silver fox hunt going?

FYI, the real reason Stacy’s down in Florida for Spring Break is to hunt for an older man to marry. And when I say old, I mean like really old. See, Stacy’s life didn’t pan out quite like she had hoped. She failed out of college during her first semester and can’t seem to hold down a job. In her mind, the next logical step is to marry into money. And since most guys with money are older, she figures the older he is the more she’s hedging her bet.

I look around at all the depressed and desperately overworked faces passing by and can’t help but wonder if maybe she’s onto something.

Stacy: Sucks so far. Nothing but poor frat guys with big muscles and orange tans. All the silver foxes are holed up in hiding from the stupid virus.

Ana: Dang. Bad timing.

Stacy: You’re telling me. It’s hard out here for a bitch!

I smile, but it doesn’t last long. Something about her comment reminds me that I’m out of a job.

Should I tell her now?

Probably.

Ana: I feel like I’m about to cry, Stacy. Karen basically just fired me.

Stacy: What!? Why would she fire you? You’re like the best employee ever?

Ana: Well, technically she put me on indefinite leave.

Stacy: What the freak is that?

Ana: It means I don’t get a paycheck for who knows how long, and I don’t know when they’ll hire me back…if ever.

Stacy: That sucks, Banana. I’m sorry. How the heck are we going to pay the rent?

Yeah, she calls me Banana. It’s a play on Ana, if you missed it. She’s clever like that.

Ana: It’s okay. I’ll be okay. I’m not sure about the rent, though.

But I’m not okay. My eyes grow hot with tears. What am I going to do for money? Where will I live if we get evicted?

Stacy: Shit. I just realized I won’t have any money left after this trip. Hopefully I can find a silver fox fast. :(

Ana: Hopefully. :(

I turn the corner and see a long line of customers waiting outside Wholesome Foods. People are crammed together, yelling and jostling for position, and for some reason it reminds me of the movie The Night of the Living Dead.

Double crap.

A heavy wave of sickness washes over me, and I feel like I might pass out.

I really don’t want to go to the store right now, so I rifle through my purse in a last ditch effort to find a tampon to hold me over until tomorrow. My fingers find a string.

Ah ha!

But wait…

I pull it out.

Crap.

Not only is it out of its wrapper, it’s covered in lint and snack crumbs and looks like it’s old enough to attend kindergarten.

I drop it back into my purse and tap out a question to Stacy.

Ana: Do tampons expire?

Stacy: No, they’re like condoms. They last forever.

Ana: Um… Are you sure?

Stacy: Totally sure.

I want to trust her, but I’m pretty sure she’s wrong. Looks like I’ll have to wait in line.

I step into line behind a mother and her five children, one of whom is screaming at the top of it’s lungs for no reason.

My phone buzzes with a new text.

Stacy: Hey bitch. How’s your depressing life?

What the?

That was out of nowhere. How many fish bowls has Stacy had so far? Jeez.

I try to figure out how to respond when another text comes in.

Stacy: I’m glad you didn’t come down here with us. It’s better for everyone.

I shake my head, confused.

Ana: Excuse me?

Stacy: Sorry, Dez took my phone.

Ana: Oh. That explains it.

Stacy: Dez was just joking.

Uh huh. Right.

The line moves forward a few steps, and when it stops the crowd lets out a collective sigh.

Stacy: We both wish you were here. You should have come with.

Ana: Somebody had to stay and look after the apartment… Besides, it’s probably not the nicest thing to be down there partying and putting so many people at risk.

Stacy: Get off your high horse Banana! You decided not to go long before the virus happened.

I can’t say she’s wrong.

Stacy begged me to go but I opted to save money and get some extra hours at work.

Oh, the irony.

But if I had decided to go on the trip, I like to think I would have cancelled as soon as I knew it would be putting people at risk. Still, there’s no use in arguing with Stacy.

Ana: I’m probably just jealous.

Stacy: As you should be. Florida is so much better than dreary depressing Seattle.

Ana: Yeah, if you like living in a giant trailer park filled with bugs, alligators, and old people.

Stacy: LoL

I laugh a little as the line moves forward a few paces.

Stacy: Seriously though. Take it easy on the old people. They’re my last ticket to freedom.

Ana: I still think you can do better for yourself, but what do I know?

Stacy: Obviously not much. Face it, I’m fucked if I can’t find a rich man to marry.

She might be right, but I refuse to agree.

Stacy: Besides, old guys are hot. I’m surprised you don’t look for one yourself, given your present circumstance.

I can’t say I’ve ever found older-older men hot. Unless of course the guy was only a little bit older. Then I’d be fine with it.

Ana: I guess I just think I have more potential than that. I’d like to earn my own living and independence some day, even if it’s hard.

There’s a brief pause where she doesn’t reply, and I wonder if I offended her.

Ana: At least that’s what I’m hoping for. Who knows if it will happen.

Stacy: You do you and I’ll do me, Banana.

I roll my eyes.

Ana: Come on, I’m sure there are plenty of decent jobs you could get that don’t require a college degree.

Stacy: Ew gross! I’d rather kill myself than work for a living. Fuck that.

I laugh. She’s right in a way. Work sucks major ass. The only times I’m ever truly unhappy are when I’m at work.

Ana: There might be some truth to what you’re saying.

Stacy: Just wait. One of these days some rich older guy is going to catch your eye. Then you’ll change your mind.

I think it over.

Ana: Okay, and say that does happen. How do you expect I’ll get him? It’s not like I have much to offer besides my youth.

Stacy: Not true. You look great, Banana.

Ana: Whatever. I know what I look like.

Stacy: You don't give yourself enough credit. You’re gorgeous. And totally smart.

Even though I know she’s just saying these things to cheer me up, I still can’t help but smile.

Ana: But seriously, how does one go about snagging a rich man?

Stacy: What you need are some good pick up lines.

Right…

I look up and see that the line has moved quite a bit from where I started. At this rate I’ll be inside in no time.

Stacy: Here’s one I’ve been practicing for my hunt… Have you ever been arrested? Because your looks are killer.

I roll my eyes.

Ana: Maybe I’ll give it a try some day.

Stacy: Do it. You won’t be disappointed.

A fight breaks out at the front of the line.

Seconds later, the two guys fighting are escorted away by a masked security guard and the line moves forward to fill the gap.

As I near the entrance, the crowd noise grows louder, and a swarm of customers break through the exit.

Crap! They’re charging right at me.

I quickly side-step out of their way and a middle-aged white woman with a dome haircut shoves past me into the store, making me do a double-take.

Phew. Not Karen.

As the woman passes by, I overhear a small portion of her phone conversation:

“I’m pretty sure I have it. I’m going to the doctor right now. I just have to stop at Wholesome Foods real quick.”

Holy crap. This place is like a war zone or something.

I enter the store close behind Karen Number 2.

Once inside, I immediately notice two things:

1. Nobody in this store seems to be wearing a mask, and…

2. All the grocery carts and baskets are gone.

I take a deep breath.

Everything’s okay, I tell myself. Just improvise and get out as fast as you can.

I hurry past the entrance and into the toiletry section.

Okay…tampons…where are the tampons?

I look down an aisle and see people lined up at the pharmacy, scrambling for asthma medication and pills. Thank goodness I’m fairly healthy and don’t need any medication. If push comes to shove, I can get by for months on my one-a-day multivitamin.

I step into the feminine hygiene aisle where a group of frustrated women are looking around frantically.

One of them says to the others, “Where are the fucking tampons!”

I look over the shelves, and they’re nearly empty.

Come on…tampons…tampons…there has to be one more pack somewhere.

I start digging through the merchandise, checking back behind the other products.

No luck.

Okay. Think, Ana. Think. What could you do?

My phone buzzes with a text.

Stacy: Where did you go?

Ana: There aren’t any tampons at the store! What am I going to do?”

Stacy: Okay. I’m calling you.

American Girl blares through my phone speakers.

I hold the phone out in front of me and right as I’m about to accept the call a scruffy-looking guy appears out of nowhere and sneezes all over the front of my screen.

I look up at him, totally grossed out.

“Sorry, dude,” he says, then disappears down the aisle.

Crap. There’s no way I’m holding this thing up to my head now.

The song keeps playing, tinny notes ringing out.

A rude woman nearby screams, “Answer your goddamn phone!”

“Sorry,” I mutter, and tap the speakerphone button, careful to avoid the spit droplets on the screen.

The first thing I and everybody within a twenty-five-foot radius hears is an obnoxious slurping sound.

Several shoppers turn and glare at me, so I hurry into a side aisle where there aren’t as many people. “Geez, Stacy. What are you drinking?” I hiss at the phone. “You sound like Lord Buttcrack with his ten gallon gas station sodas.”

Lord Buttcrack is the nickname Stacy and I have given our fat, greedy, disgusting landlord, on account of the fact that we’ve never seen him without half of his butt crack hanging out of his pants.

“Hold it right there,” Stacy says. “Don’t you dare ever compare me to Lord Buttcrack. I love you dearly, but that’s taking it too far. Besides, he sounds more like a butthole.”

I laugh at her drunken simile. “I don’t like that image. Why are you thinking about his butthole?”

“Hey, where there’s a crack, there’s always a hole.”

Um…

“As to your first question,” she continues, “I just finished my third Blue Ocean Fishbowl.”

“Holy crap! You drank three of them? Don’t they come in, like, a literal fish bowl?”

“Mm-hm. And the alcohol content is through the roof.”

“Something tells me you’re going to regret this.”

“Doubt it.”

I sigh.

“Anyway, back to my tampon problem.”

“Where did Joey go?” Dezzy’s voice cuts in.

“Who the hell is Joey?!” Stacy shouts.

“The guy with the muscles, duh,” Dezzy moans in the background.

“They all have muscles!” Stacy cries.

“Ugh…the one with the tan!”

“They all have tans!”

“Hello!?” I say loudly into the phone.

“Oh, sorry. Seriously, Dezzy is being such a bitch.”

“You’re the fucking bitch, bitch!” Dezzy laugh-screams in the background.

“Whatever…” Stacy says. “Back to the problem at hand. Can’t you just wear pads?”

“They’re out of those, too.”

A woman nearby overhears our conversation and approaches me.

“Pads? Did someone say pads? Where are the pads? I need more pads! There have to be more pads!”

Stacy starts laughing so hard she begins to choke.

The woman’s frantic energy scares the crap out of me, so I back away from her and hurry into the clothing section, which seems to be the only empty part of the store.

I duck down under some hanging dresses and tops. “Seriously, Stacy. What should I do?”

“Let me think…” Stacy muses. “Oh, I know! A while back I was watching this TV show about these female prison inmates…”

Great.

“Okay?”

“Bare with me,” she says, sensing my doubt.

“K.”

“Anyway, whenever the prison ran out of tampons, the women would just wad up a bunch of toilet paper and shove it up their pussies.”

Genius. Simply genius.

A woman with a stroller opens the clothing rack and pokes her head in. “Could you keep it down with the profanity? Children are nearby!”

“Fuck off, lady!” Stacy screams at her through the phone.

The woman scoffs and throws the clothing rack closed.

“It’s not the worst idea,” I say. “Only problem is they’re all out of toilet paper as well.”

“Hmm…

“I need more ideas.”

“You could just free bleed,” she says.

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s when you…”

“Actually, never mind.”

“You’re sure?”

“Totally sure.”

“Fine. Scratch that.. Let’s see…” Stacy makes a weird sucking sound with her mouth while she’s thinking.

Another customer comes by and starts sliding the shirts around me.

“What’s that annoying noise?” Stacy says.

“I’m under a rack of tank tops and someone’s looking through them.”

“Oops, sorry!” The faceless searcher says.

“It’s fine,” I say back nicely.

Stacy gasps. “I know!”

“What?”

“Why don’t you just cut up a tank top and shove it up your pussy?”

I laugh.

“Come on. That’s ghetto.”

“Yeah. But what else are you going to do?”

She’s got a point. What if this is the answer?

“But I don’t wanna!” I groan into the phone.

“I know it sucks, Banana. But it’s probably your only option.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

I crawl out from under the clothing rack and grab three spaghetti strap tank tops.

“Do you think three is enough?”

“Um…probably.”

“Okay. Good to go. Now it’s time to get the hell out of here.”

“You go girl!”

As I’m walking towards the front checkout, I spot some cotton balls out of the corner of my eye.

Hmm. These could be useful.

I snag them off the shelf.

“Hey, Stacy, do you think cotton balls…”

“WHAT!” someone screams on Stacy’s end.

A man across the aisle glares at me.

I mouth “sorry” and turn away.

“Quiet down,” I hiss. “Or I’m hanging up.”

“IS THIS ANA?!”

Shit. It’s Dezzy again.

“Dez, put Stacy back on the phone,” I whisper.

“FUCK YOU, ANA! YOU FUCKING BITCH!”

“Okay, I’m hanging up.”

“WOO! SPRING BREAK!” Dezzy screams so loud my speaker pops.

I hang up the phone and slip it into my pocket.

When I get to the front of the store, I join the back of the nearest line and take in my surroundings. All around me carts are overflowing. Off to my left, a plump woman is loading fifteen large cases of soda onto the conveyor belt, and the guy behind her has nothing but vanilla puddings and beef jerky.

He catches me staring and smiles at me. Holy hell! All his teeth are missing. I don’t even want to guess how he’s going to eat all that jerky.

“Next!” a young female voice calls from the front of the line.

I turn toward the register, but can’t seem to see the girl who said it. All I see is some sort of contraption where the register should be that looks like four broom sticks wrapped in layers of cellophane.

The dome-headed woman ahead of me huffs up to the register and hacks onto the cellophane.

Holy crap! It’s the Karen Clone from earlier!

I leave some distance between us and try not to breathe in whatever she’s hacking.

“Excuse me!” Karen Number 2 brays at the cellophane. “You forgot to ask me if I found everything I was looking for.”

The cellophane sucks in and releases with a sigh, and the disembodied voice from earlier returns. “Did you find everything you were—“

“No. I. Did. Not.” Spittle from Karen Number 2’s mouth hits the cellophane with each word. “And I need to speak to your manager. Immediately.”

The girl behind the plastic lets out another sigh. “Randy! Customer for you.”

A ruddy-faced man shuffles our way, but before he makes it to the register, Karen Number 2 marches towards to him.

“Next!” the girl behind the cellophane says, not caring if the woman loses her place in line.

I step forward to the register.

“I think some people are worse than the virus,” she says from behind the barrier.

I laugh. “No kidding.”

She sighs and the plastic wrap squeaks.

I clear my throat. “Um…What is this thing?”

“Modified spit guard. Courtesy of my dumb asshole manager.”

I laugh. “It looks pretty…um…”

“Shit?”

“Yeah, sort of,” I giggle.

“It would be better if he hadn’t triple wrapped the cellophane. Now I can’t see anything.”

“Why are most managers such bozos?” I scoff.

“Because the owners know if they were too smart they’d quit.”

I think it over. “Then why are some of the employees so smart?”

“Because it doesn’t matter if they quit.”

I laugh. It’s so true!

Then it occurs to me. “Why can’t you just wear masks and gloves?”

“Mr. Bozo thinks it will scare the customers.”

I frown at the plastic wrap.

“Wow. That’s really stupid.”

“Tell me about it,” she sighs.

My heart goes out to the girl trapped behind the cellophane. Her face is so blurred that I wouldn’t even know she was a girl if it weren’t for her voice.

“Nobody sees us and nobody cares,” she says hauntingly.

A chill runs down my spine.

I don’t know what to say, so I look down at my feet.

“Your total comes to $17.20.”

Crap, that’s expensive. I really wish they were carrying tampons.

I pull out my wallet and grab two tens.

When I look up I notice there’s a card reader, but no way to get her the cash.

“Um…all I have is cash.”

A tiny index finger appears above the cellophane, then points down. “Make it rain on this bitch.”

I fold the bills into fourths so they don’t scatter, then toss them over. “Keep the change.”

“Oh wow. Thanks,” She says. Her voice is different this time, less depressed. “Seriously, I need it.”

“No problem. Good luck.”

“Psh! Thanks,” she says with a laugh.

I laugh, too. “K, bye.”

Behind me, the ruddy-faced manager announces that the store is closing in ten minutes, and half the customers groan.

A woman in the cereal aisle screams, “This is bullshit! I need food for my kids!”

Behind me, a mob forms around the checkouts and people flood into the entrance.

Crap. Time to get out of here.

The woman from the personal care aisle who needed pads exits empty-handed in front of me and her face looks absolutely furious. When she gets outside, she turns around, pulls out the waistband of her sweatpants, reaches down between her legs, and rips out a used pad!

I gasp. Oh no!

In one swift motion, she slaps the bloody pad on the grocery store window, where it sticks like a suction cup animal.

“This is what you get for not having pads!” she screams like a banshee.

The crowd behind me groans with disgust.

What in the actual fuck?

A thick wave of nausea washes over me, and I feel like I might puke.

I search for another way out, but this is the only exit, so I step in front of the door and try not to look at the bloody pad stuck to the window. But for some reason I can’t help myself, and when I look up, the door slides open and the pad smears fresh blood across the glass before falling down onto the sidewalk.

Oh my God, WTF!

I throw up a little in my mouth, but manage to make it outside.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, the moment I step out I spot a trashy-looking mother trying to steal a mask off the face of a middle-aged man so her son can wear it.

“Come on,” she says, “he needs it more than you do!”

“Even if I wanted to give it to him, it’s a bad idea,” the poor guy says. “I could be carrying the virus!”

“Bullshit!” she screams. “Hand it over!”

She lurches for his mask and rips it loose.

Holy crap! What should I do?

A loud pop rips through the crowd, and the trashy woman falls to the ground and twitches around like she’s being electrocuted.

I turn and look down at the poor guy’s hand and see that he’s holding a taser.

“Oh my God, did you just tase her?” a woman from the crowd cries out.

“She was trying to steal my mask!” the poor guy says.

“You’re an animal!” a pregnant woman seethes as she clutches her belly protectively.

“How could you?” says someone in the crowd.

“The poor thing,” adds yet another.

The next thing I know, three white knight teenage boys are on top of the poor guy, beating him with their fists.

I cover my mouth with my hand, horrified by their savagery.

People leaving the store join in the fight, and within seconds it’s a full-on mob.

What the crap! It just keeps getting worse! I need to get out of here.

I dash for an clear spot of sidewalk near the curb, but right as I’m about to break free from the hoard, an errant body slams into me, sending me headfirst into the street. The pavement comes rushing towards my face, and at the last moment my hands shoot up just in time to stop me from landing face-first. I slide violently out into the street as my hands scrape along the asphalt, splashing puddle water into my face. The pain is immense and brings back vivid memories of the times I used to fall off my bike.

When I finally manage to look up I see that everything I just bought has been strewn out into the roaring traffic. The tank tops are stained brown and the cotton balls are soaked black.

A car honks and swerves, barely missing my head as my face is thrashed with water.

I gasp for breath as I crawl backwards towards the sidewalk.

Another car roars by, flattening everything I bought into a puddle.

Hot tears well in my eyes.

People behind me are asking each other what to do, but nobody makes a move to help me up.

Just then, a large SUV stops in front of me, and I catch sight of my reflection in the polished silver paint.

I gasp out in horror. The girl I see looking back at me looks like she just crept out of a lake.

The tinted rear passenger-side window rolls down a crack.

“Are you okay?” A dark voice says.

I squint at the tint, hoping to catch sight of the faceless man speaking to me, but all I can make out is a dark shock of hair. I push myself up from the puddle and step towards him.

“Stay back!” he says. His voice is so loud it echoes through the street, startling me.

I shuffle back two steps, look down and ring my hands.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t,” he says, then lets out a long, loud sigh. “I apologize for my tone, but I would prefer not to risk contact.”

“I totally understand. I—”

“Listen, are you okay?” he snaps, interrupting me.

A laugh escapes me. “Obviously not!”

I’m surprised by my own frankness, but something takes hold of me.

“I mean, its not like I just lost my job and won’t be able to pay my rent this month!”

Someone giggles behind me as the mysterious man in the backseat of the SUV remains silent.

“And…and… it’s not like I’m on my period right now and can’t seem to find a box of tampons or pads to save my life!”

A couple more people laugh.

I take a deep breath, about to cry as my voice grows louder.

“And it’s not like spaghetti strap tank tops were the only reasonable alternative!”

The laughter behind me stops.

“Damn!” someone shouts from the silenced crowd.

But I don’t care, and my voice only grows louder still.

“And it’s not like I had to fight through ten thousand assholes just to get that!”

I turn around and see several angry faces staring me down.

“And it’s not like you fucking animals shoved me into the street and the spaghetti strap tank tops I was supposed to shove up my pussy are now rotting at the bottom of a water-filled pothole!”

A pimple-faced teenage boy doubles over in laughter.

“Oh my God!” he says, wagging his finger at me. “She’s good.”

“Fucking animals, huh?!” a man in the crowd yells. “I’ll show you who’s a fucking animal!”

The man staggers forward, knocking into the people around him, and out of nowhere someone punches him in the face.

Oh no!

For a moment he’s dazed, but when he finally manages to regain his senses he throws a wild punch and the crowd resumes its frenzied fight.

I turn back to the window and cover my face, about to cry.

“Where do you live?” the disembodied voice in the SUV says. His tone is unexpectedly sympathetic.

What? Why is he asking me this? Why would he care where I live?

I gaze up through my tears at the window.

Should I tell him?

The thought seems crazy. He’s a complete stranger. I mean, I haven’t even seen his face.

I feel the crowd pushing at my back, and in one swift surge of motion, they shove me up against the window.

“Ow! You’re hurting me!” I cry. I try to turn around so I can say it to their faces, but the pressure is too much.

I turn and see two dazzling grey eyes staring back at me through the crack. The expression is fierce and intense, but for some reason I trust them.

“First Street,” I whimper. “I live near First Street.”

His eyes bore into mine as the crowd locks me in place.

Behind me, people begin to scream and shove each other.

The steel grey eyes look past me into the crowd and the next thing I know a folded hundred dollar bill appears next to my face.

I stare at the money, confused.

“It’s for your rent. To get by.”

What the?

I hesitate to take it.

“Take it or leave it.”

I reach forward to take it, and as I clasp the crisp paper, my finger brushes against his smooth, warm skin.

I look up into his eyes and this time they’re black. His brow furrows.

My breath hitches, and something tugs deep down in the pit of my stomach.

Behind me, a shrill woman shouts, “You got any toilet paper in there?”

The crowd moves forward, pressing me harder from behind and forcing my arm through the window.

“Son of a bitch!” the musical voice hisses from inside the cabin.

The crowd keeps pressing, and I scream out in pain.

Another voice from behind me calls out, “Hey rich boy! You gonna come bail us out!?”

The laughter is insane.

Hot breath brushes the back of my neck, giving me flashbacks of Karen standing behind me.

I look into his fierce eyes and for a moment I read an expression that looks like pity or fear, but I’m not sure which.

A gunshot rings out, and the glass on the rear driver’s side explodes into the cabin.

I scream in terror.

“Fuck!” the man says.

I can see people on the other side of the cabin leaning into the SUV.

“Ohh! It’s nice in here!” a haggard woman says, peering inside.

“Get back, you!” the man shouts.

I wish I could help him, but I’m stuck.

He leans forward and screams at the driver.

“Damnit, Calloway! They’re breathing into the cabin!”

“You hear that?” someone behind me says. “Richie Rich doesn’t want us breathing his fancy-pants air!”

“All right then,” an older man with an ugly voice screams. “Let’s give it to him! Charge!”

The crowd rushes forward, smashing me against the window.

I try to escape, but I’m locked in place.

All around me, ugly voices are screaming ugly things in ugly ways.

I suddenly feel like my spine is being crushed from behind.

“Help!” I yelp. “Somebody help me!”

“Fuck it, it’s too late now,” he says, his beautiful voice breaking through the garbled roar of the crowd.

The tinted window zips down and a pair of large hands cup my waist.

“What are you doing?” I say, startled by his strength.

“Watch your head,” he whispers against my ear, dizzying my senses.

The world around me spins, and for a moment everything is a blur. The next thing I know, I’m laying on my back looking up at the ceiling. All around me voices are growing in number, and I instinctively curl into the fetal position, nuzzling my face into his chest and inhaling his clean scent as his strong protective arms pull me closer to him.

Despite all the commotion around me, for the first time in forever, I feel safe.

The vehicle begins to rock back and forth from the thrashings of the human horde.

“Damnit, Calloway. They’re trying to tip us!”

“Can I run them over, sir?”

“I believe that would be unwise,” the man replies with a hint of humor.

The driver rubs his hand back and forth over his buzz cut. “Right, sorry.”

A loud noise startles me, and my hands shoot up to protect my face, smearing mud across the front of his suit.

Oh no!

I look up to apologize, and for the first time I see his face.

Oh my freaking God!

Chapter Two

Dark Knight

His face is perfect.

The symmetry is flawless. The bone structure is divine. His cheek bones are so strong and pronounced, it wouldn’t surprise me if he once was, or still is, a runway model. A thick shock of hair hangs over his right eye in a way that’s pleasantly distracting. If I were to guess his age I’d say he couldn’t be any older than 25, although his expression and mannerisms are more like those of a man twice his age.

His grey eyes narrow at me, and my heart leaps in response.

I try to look away, but my eyes are locked on his.

His pupils dilate, eclipsing the grey, and all at once I feel lightheaded.

Holy crap. What’s happening to me? I feel like I might faint.

His face softens, his eyes blinking gently, and I can’t help but notice his lashes are long for a man’s.

I should really look away, but for some reason I can’t. It’s as though I’m tethered to his gaze by some mysterious force.

In one smooth motion he turns towards the driver.

“Step on it. But don’t hurt them.”

The vehicle lurches forward, and outside the window, the crowd rushes by in a blur.

For the first time I notice beautiful classical music playing from the car’s speakers, a refreshing contrast to the the howling wind and chaotic street noise.

“Mahler,” I whisper.

It comes out unintentionally, and I’m suddenly overcome with embarrassment.

He turns back to me and eyes me with a look of surprise. “You know the composer?”

My heart skips a beat as I stare into his eyes. I want to say yes, but all I can do is nod.

He scowls and turns to the driver. “Turn off the music. It’s mixing with the street noise and giving me a headache.”

The driver nods. “Yes, sir.”

What the? Why why would he do that? Is he mad at me or something?

The music stops, and all that’s left is the howling wind as the world flies by outside the window.

He lifts me up off his lap and places me in a nearby seat. “Can you buckle yourself in?”

My mouth opens to respond, but he’s already reaching across my lap. “Very well,” he says, taking control as he begins to buckle me in. His arms feel good pressed against me, warm and reassuring, and I like the smell of his hair, but something about the aggressiveness of his gesture puts me off.

“I can do it,” I say, but he ignores me.

I bite my lip, unsure of what to do, and look down at his hands. The first thing I notice are his platinum cuff links. The design is simple, but the pieces look intricately crafted and expensive. My eyes wander to his long, tapered fingers as he buckles me in and smoothes the belt up over my chest, careful to remain decent.

Once finished, he sits back in his seat, and I’m finally able to take in the rest of him.

His body is long, lean, and muscular, and his proportions are refined. Besides the mess I’ve made of his suit, everything about his attire is crisp and clean. He’s wearing a well-fitted dark navy suit and slacks, a starched white undershirt, and an intricately patterned silver tie. The outfit looks expensive and custom tailored.

I look down at the used shirt I picked up the other day at the thrift store for a dollar fifty-five, and notice that mud is dripping down through my legs onto the soft leather car seat. I fidget nervously at the sight, and the puddle under me makes a squishy sound.

His eyes dart in my direction.

I lean back a little, revealing the puddle. “Sorry, I’m all wet.”

He purses his lips. “Don’t tell me that’s piss.”

What!? My face flushes with embarrassment. “No! It’s not, it’s just… I’m so sorry,” I mutter, trying to contain the drips.

He sighs and leans forward, flipping open the center console.

I flinch.

He stops and looks at me. “Calm down.”

I nod and exhale, trying to relax.

He pushes a black button and a crystal champagne set raises up from inside the console.

Scowling, he grabs a black silk champagne towel, unfurls it with a flourish, and hands it to me.

“Here.”

When I grab it, his fingers graze mine, and something electric passes between us.

Whoa.

That was crazy. Did he feel it, too?

He leans back in his seat and clears his throat, clearly affected.

He did!

A smile tugs at my lips.

He narrows his eyes at me. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” I say, flattening my expression as I dab up my mess. “Ahem…so, where are we going?”

“To your apartment.”

What? A pang of fear courses through me. “How do you know where I live?”

He gives me a strange look. “You told me back in the street. You don’t remember?”

I think back, replaying the awful sequence of events.

“Oh yeah.” I say, shaking my head. “How could I have forgotten? I must have hit my head.”

“Your head is fine. I saw everything.”

He saw the everything?

You’ve got to be kidding me. Face in the mud and ass in the air is not my idea of a great first impression. I can only imagine what he must think of me.

I lower my head in shame, and my hair falls down around my face. When I peek back up through the strands, I see that he’s turned away from me, staring out the window. He looks poised, legs finely crossed, fingers clasped—cool, aloof.

For a moment I wonder if I’m dreaming. There’s no way this could be real. He looks like a movie star or a model in a fashion magazine. What am I doing here with him?

He turns to look at me, and I quickly look away.

Crap. Don’t look again.

But I do, and this time he’s looking at me like he’s in pain.

I look away again.

I should really stop staring at him. This is something Stacy would do. Not me. What’s wrong with me?

A moment later, I can’t help myself and I look up yet again.

Shit. He’s still staring at me.

Okay. At least I’m not the only one staring.

His eyes crinkle in the corners, like he’s laughing at me, his fine mouth twisting into a ghost of a smile.

I look away again.

Crap. He thinks I’m an idiot. What should I do? Should I say something? This is so awkward.

When I peek at him again, I notice he’s clenching his slacks up near his knee. He looks angry. What if he blames me for what happened with the crowd? Maybe I should apologize?

“I’m sorry about what happened,” I say. “I didn’t know—“

He holds up his hand, silencing me.

I turn back and catch my reflection in the window.

Limp, soggy hair.

Mud-flecked face…

Could I look more pathetic?

Hot tears begin to form behind my eyes.

He makes a sudden movement, drawing my attention, and I notice a thin line of blood trailing down along his wrist.

I gasp. “You’re bleeding.”

He stops, turns his hand over. “Shit.”

I lean forward. “Here, let me—“

He pulls away. “I’ve got it.”

I look around for something to stop the bleeding.

He holds up the bottom of his suit coat and sighs through his nose, his mouth twisted with frustration.

I unbuckle my seatbelt.

“What are you doing?”

“Here,” I say, unbuttoning my baby blue cardigan.

“No,” he says, eyes closed, shaking his head. A small smile plays on his lips.

I stop. His smile does something to me I can’t explain, and I have the sudden inexplicable urge to kiss the corner of his mouth. What!? Where did that thought come from?

He smirks at me, like he knows what I’m thinking.

“You really need to calm down,” he says. “Get back in your seat and buckle up.”

I do as he says.

“It must have been from the window,” he says, referring to his bloody wrist. His voice is flat. “I was trying to minimize contact until you showed up.”

Crap. For a moment I almost forgot about the Coronavirus.

Guilt grips me.

What if he has a precondition?

What if he has a family?

“I’m so sorry.”

“You should be.” His expression is serious. “You summoned them to me.”

What?!

“I did not!”

“Did you declare yourself their leader, or were you elected?” he says, his lips suddenly curled with amusement.

I shake my head, confused. “I had absolutely nothing at all to do with them!”

He smiles. “Then why were they all so glad to see you?”

Ah, I get it. He must be joking.

I smile inwardly and decide to play along. “The truth is they were charmed by your carriage.”

His face brightens at my recognition, and he lets out a long sigh. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean what I just said.” He strokes the bottom of his lip with his index finger. “It’s obviously not your fault. It’s the fault of those in charge who allowed the panic to spread.”

I look down at my hands, unsure of what to say.

“Besides,” he says. His voice is suddenly wry with mock-humor. “There are so many ways to die. Coronavirus is just one of them. Something’s bound to get you sooner or later.”

I peek up at him through my lashes. Why does he look sad?

I want to tell him it will be alright, but the thought sounds stupid in my head.

He sighs and shrugs off his jacket to use for his hand.

I sit up.

“Y-y-you can use my sweater,” I say, stuttering for some reason as I gape wide-eyed at the jacket that I’m positive is worth more than my entire wardrobe combined.

“It’s quite alright,” he says, ignoring me.

“No,” I say, gaining his attention. “That jacket’s too thick.”

He stops and examines the jacket, turning it over in his hands.

“Seriously, it’s no big deal,” I say. “It’s the least I could do.”

“It won’t be needed,” he says, tossing the jacket into a heap on the floor.

I shake my head, confused. “Then what will you use?”

His eyes lock on mine as he loosens his patterned silk tie.

Holy hell. He’s getting undressed!

He tosses the tie onto the floor and begins unbuttoning his dress shirt.

My breath hitches as I struggle to avert my gaze.

He shrugs off the shirt, and I barely contain a gasp as his chiseled abs flex under the soft interior dome lighting. The entire time, his eyes never leave mine.

Something tugs at the base of my stomach as I shift in my seat.

He bites down on the dress shirt fabric and tears it into a long thin strip. How does he make it look so easy?

“I can help,” I say, leaning towards him, entranced.

“I’ll manage just fine,” he says through gritted teeth as he finishes two more strips.

He takes three strips and wraps them around his wrist. When he’s finished he holds up his wrist, examining his handiwork. “What do you think?”

I’m so overwhelmed all I can do is nod.

“Good enough,” he says like he’s glad to be done with it.

I spot the tie at his feet and a thought occurs to me.

“You could have just used your tie.”

“Too late,” he says without hesitation.

He reaches down, grabs the tie, then lays it next to him on the seat.

I look away. For some reason I can’t stop smiling. What’s going on with me?

He signals the driver. “I’ll need a new dress shirt before my speech.”

The driver nods. “Ten four.”

He settles back into his seat and begins fingering the shirt-strip bandage.

I clear my throat. “What kind of speech are you giving?”

His brow furrows. “You don’t have to talk like that.”

My brow pinches. “Like what?”

“Like this is an interview.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re up-ending your sentences in an effort to please me.”

I look away, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m sorry. I’m under a lot of pressure right now.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” he says, his tone serious.

“Okay.”

His brow arches, assessing me. “I’m Elon, by the way. Elon Carlisle.”

Elon Carlisle.

I roll it around in my mind, savoring the sound of it. The name suits him surprisingly well.

“What’s your name?” he says.

“Nana.”

Crap! What’s wrong with me!? …Nana?!

“Nana?” His brow knits in confusion. “As in, my nana’s just died from Coronavirus?”

“N-no. It’s Ana. Just Ana.”

“Ana?”

I nod. “Ana.”

He leans back, hands behind his head, and repeats my name. “Ana.”

I love the way my name plays on his lips.

His eyes dart back down at me. “You’re sure?” His face lights up with humor, and somehow it’s even more beautiful than before.

I blush and nod into my chest.

“So…Ana. What do you think of all this?”

My eyes once again take in the luxurious surroundings. “The car?”

He makes a face. “No…the virus.”

Duh. What’s wrong with you, Ana? Get it together.

I search for the right word, but all that comes to mind is, “It’s terrible.”

“Indeed,” he says, biting the back of his knuckle.

An awkward moment passes between us, and the tension gets the better of me. “I noticed none of the employees at Wholesome Foods were wearing masks.”

“Yes, I’ve read all about that. Most businesses seem to think it will scare the customers.”

“That’s so stupid,” I say, a little too loud.

He looks up at me and tilts his head.

I shake my head with frustration. “I mean, if we’re going to flatten the curve, we can’t be doing stupid stuff like that. It’s not up to businesses to choose who lives and dies.”

He stops biting his knuckle and stares at me thoughtfully. Why is he looking at me like that?

“I was just on my way to give a speech along the same lines,” he says calmly.

“Oh,” I say. “What for?”

“It’s for a charity banquet. Very tedious.”

“So, what are you? Some kind of politician or something?“

“I’m a CEO. I own fifteen companies on three separate continents, and I employ over five million people.”

Holy crap.

“Wow, very important,” I say, trying to sound unimpressed.

“Indeed.”

Cocky much?

The air in the car suddenly seems too heavy, so I try to lighten the mood. “Well at least the workers of the world will finally get a vacation.”

He eyes me tactfully.

“If you consider the most devastating economic collapse since World War II a vacation, then yes, they will most certainly get their vacation.” So much for lightening the mood. I look down at my lap as he continues. “I believe there is dignity and honor in work, regardless of what one contributes. This pandemic is nothing short of a disaster for everyone involved, including the workers of the world.”

I snort. “Easy for you to say.”

He glares at me.

“Why is that?”

“Because you’re the one getting the lion’s share.”

He scoffs.

“What?” I say. “It’s the truth”

“Somewhat,” he says, leaning forward. “To be more exact, I control the lion’s share. Most of my value is tied up in my companies. If I didn't own at least fifty percent of each company I would cease to be the one in control.”

“So why not give it up?”

“Because without my control they would fail.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

His eyes bore into mine and I look away, a little frightened by his intensity.

“So, you’re doing it for charity?”

He laughs. “I wouldn’t say that exactly.”

“But that’s what you just said. You said the companies would fail without you. But still, you could sell them off anytime, so why don’t you? Sounds like charity to me.”

He thinks it over. “Because it’s not rational to allow that many people to suffer when I have the power to stop it from happening.”

I can’t help but smile.

“What? What is it?”

“Nothing.”

He leans forward. “Tell me.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t think you’re being rational.”

“Then what am I being?”

“Emotional.”

He shakes his head.

“I never make decisions based on emotion. I prefer to be able to anticipate every outcome.”

“As if that’s even possible.”

“Maybe not,” he says. “Still, I believe caution and prevention are the foundations of rational judgement.”

“Who did you steal that line from? Dale Carnegie?”

His eyes soften with humor. “You know more than you let on.”

I fold my arms. “Yeah, and you care more than you let on.”

He shakes his head and looks down. “I gave up caring a long time ago.”

I stop and stare at him. His response is more personal than I expected.

“What about you?” he says.

“Me?”

“Yes. Tell me about yourself.”

Crap. What the heck am I supposed to say?

“Um…I don’t know. Let me think.”

“Think away.”

“Well, for starters, I lost my job today.” Heat spreads across my face as I recall my outburst in front of the crowd. “But I guess I already told you that earlier.”

I search his face for signs that he’s about to mock me for the embarrassing scene I made, but I find none. Only mild curiosity lingers in his eyes.

“Where did you work?” he says cooly.

“Karen’s Krafts, down on Main Street.”

“I think I’ve seen it.”

“They put me on indefinite leave.” I make air quotes around ‘indefinite leave’.

He nods his head. “They must be struggling.”

“They are.”

“So, what did you do there?”

Why does he want to know all this? There’s no way it’s boring him less than it’s boring me.

“Hmm…” I say, trying to think of something interesting. “I mostly just stood behind the front desk waiting for customers to pay.” I shrug. “Sometimes I’d help stock the shelves.”

Ugh. It sounds so lame now that I’ve said it out loud.

“That’s it?” He says, narrowing his eyes at me.

“Um… sort of. I mean, I was a cashier.” I sift through my memory for something else to say. “But sometimes I would clean the toilets, too.”

His lips curl into an amused smile. “That sounds very…interesting.”

Crap. He definitely thinks I’m an idiot. Why did I say that? I blush and lower my head. “It was a job, I guess.”

“Well, from what you just told me I wouldn’t be too upset about losing it.”

My face flushes with anger. “It may not sound like much to you, but it was all I had.”

He gives me a surprised look. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant I think you can do better.” He pauses to rub his index finger across his lower lip. “I’m sorry. I know how hard it is out there right now.”

“How do you know?”

“That it’s hard?”

“That I can do better.”

He shrugs. “It was just a guess.”

“Based on what?”

“What I’ve seen so far.”

“I thought this wasn’t an interview.”

“It’s not.” His voice is hard.

I cross my legs and fold my arms over my chest. “Whatever.”

I don’t know why I’m acting like this, but something about this man has gotten under my skin.

“We’ll be nearing your place soon, Ana,” he says. There’s an edge to his voice again. “What’s the building?”

“Broadway Building, Elon,” I say, echoing his tone. “But you can drop me off here if you’re eager to get rid of me.”

His brow turns into a hard V and I’m tempted to poke my tongue out at him. What’s gotten into me?

The landscape around us darkens. “This is a bad part of town,” he says flatly.

I nod against the window. “I always know I’m getting close to home because I begin to feel anxious.”

“I know the owner-slash-landlord,” he says. “Or, I suppose the more proper term would be slum lord.”

I laugh despite myself.

“Totally.”

“Totally?”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

His face lights up a little as his eyes narrow in thought. “For some reason all I can remember of him was his ass crack.”

I burst out laughing so hard I almost pee my pants.

He smiles at me.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” I choke out. “My roommate and I christened him Lord Buttcrack once we learned he was a piece of shit.”

He laughs out loud for the first time, and the melodious sound fills my chest.

The driver looks back at us and smiles.

When our laughter finally dies down, I look up and catch him staring at me with a far off look.

I look myself over and check my face in the glass. “What’s the matter? Is there something on my face?”

“No, it’s just…” he says, considering whether or not to continue.

“What?” I say, anxious for his answer.

“You remind me so much of someone I once knew.”

Oh really?

“Who?”

He turns away from me, suddenly serious.

“Never mind. Forget I said it.”

The mood in the car darkens.

“Will you be fine if I drop you off here?” he says. The edge in his voice has returned.

I look around. I usually avoid walking in this part of town if I can. I glance back at Elon but he’s still turned away, as if I’m already gone.

“Here’s fine.”

He commands the driver to stop.

“You’re sure?” the driver says, looking back at us.

Elon nods, his face twisted in what I can only assume is disgust.

I open the door and right as I’m about to step out, a beer bottle crashes against the nearby pavement.

What the?!

I slink back into the car as a middle-aged drunk woman takes a swing at a scruffy-looking old man.

“You motherfucker!” The woman roars. “How you gonna pay the rent! How we gonna eat!”

Elon reaches across me and slams the door shut.

“Drive!”

The SUV lurches forward.

I peer over and see him pinching his brow with his fingers. “That was a close one,” I say, forcing a lightness into my tone.

“Too close,” he whispers, not looking up.

A distance seems to have formed between us that I don’t understand.

I sift through my mind for something to say.

“I’m really sorry for everything. The mob, your clothes…exposing you to the virus. It’s all my fault.”

“As I said before, it’s not your fault. People are stupid, dangerous, panicky animals.”

I stare at him, taken back by his harsh judgement.

The vehicle comes to a stop in front of my apartment and I notice a homeless man is trying to defecate on the sidewalk.

“Gross,” I whisper, turning away.

“How long have you lived here?” He says, his face contorted in disgust.

Something comes over me, a medley of shame and anger, and all at once I have the overwhelming urge to leave the vehicle.

I try to open the door, but it’s locked.

He shakes his head at the driver, and grabs my elbow to stop me. His hand feels good against my skin, but my emotions take hold and I shrug it off.

He sighs and leans back in his seat. “You’re sure you want to go?”

What’s he getting at? A minute ago he was asking me to leave.

“I’m sure. Now can you please unlock this door?”

Once again, he shakes his head at the driver.

What’s he doing?

He pulls out a platinum business card holder, flips it open, removes a card, then flips it back shut. He offers the card to me. “In case you need me for anything.”

I shake my head. “You’ve already helped more than enough. Thank you for the ride and the money… I really mean it, thank you.”

He narrows his eyes.

The driver opens my door, taking me by surprise. “Ma’am.”

I look up and thank him, then clamber out of the car with as much grace as I can scrap together.

“Oh! I almost forgot my p—“

I spin around and see my purse dangling from Elon’s outstretched hand.

“Thanks,” I say, shifting the strap onto my shoulder.

“You’re welcome.”

Something like a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth.

What’s that all about?

Before I can say anything, the driver gently shuts the door. “Would you like me to escort you to your door?” His face is serious, but genial.

“No. But thank you, um… I seem to have forgotten your name.”

“Calloway, ma’am.”

“Oh yes. Now I remember. Thank you, Calloway.”

“No problem-o.”

I turn on my heel and hop over the pile of excrement the homeless man left on the sidewalk.

“Watch your step!” Calloway says, laughing a little. “I’d kick it out of your way, but it’s still fresh.”

“I’m fine,” I say as I hop up the steps to the front door of my building, totally grossed out.

Good God. How humiliating.

As I’m about to put my key in the slot, I hear Elon’s voice behind me.

“Ana!” I turn around and see his beautiful face framed in the window. “Be safe,” he says.

“You too.” I take a breath. “…Elon.”

The moment lingers as we stare into each other’s eyes, and I can swear something passes between us again. I can’t explain why, but I feel an inexplicable urge to run back to the car. Does he feel it, too?

He turns his head forward as the tint seals shut.

And then, just like that, the car pulls away.

A Final Note from the Author

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story! I hope you’ve enjoyed it so far! If you would like to read the rest of Part 1 through to Chapter 14, the story is currently available on Amazon under the title ‘Fifty Shades of Corona’ by N.O. Shame. However, if you are willing to wait, I’ll be posting a new chapter every week!

Much Love,

N.O. Shame

1 note · View note

vagrantblvrd · 5 years ago

Note

I'm a slut for anything Destiny right now, so uhhhhh maybe something involving that? (On another note, boo for pushing back BL to November, yay for having more time to work on it)

Lol, same, friend! XD

So, like. Much as I love other Destiny AUs I’ve blathered on about before, what do you say about a Battle Buddies in the Destiny universe?

Like, say.

These two idiots working for Clovis Bray during the Golden Age, right? Troubleshooters or just a pair of mercenaries that somehow ended up on the Clovis Bray payroll.

Or maybe they start off as regular security operatives who earn a reputation for being particularly clever and resourceful. Ruthless, some might say, in protecting Clovis Bray’s interests.

They catch the eye of some higher up, get reassigned to a special division in security which happen to be troubleshooters and the like?

Operatives given more leeway/authority than the usual Clovis Bray security operative and it’s actually good for a while, right?

Certainly good enough from them to to from coworkers to that guy they see almost every day and have a few things in common with to actual friends. And that, okay, in the world of fanfic is a slippery slope to Mutual Pining.

And such tropes as being snowed in at a tiny, wonderfully cozy cabin once they get a fired started and realize sharing body heat is the only solution to not freezing to death anyway?

Also sharing a bed while on a trip somewhere and a mixup/convenient other reason there would only be a room with a single bed available for them.

Not to mention the quiet revelation that the other one knows exactly how they take their coffee (whatever diet soda equivalent exists in the universe at that time for Ryan), or what their favorite food is (and second, third and so on in case substitution is necessary). Know what their favorite color is and cats vs dogs.

(A hotly debated topic between them, one that Jeremy declares could be a friendship killer because dogs, Ryan, really? With their borking and happy little faces and utter joy at seeing their human?

Pls.

Meanwhile, Ryan with this little smirk to his voice as he needles Jeremy over the little herd of stray cats he swears aren’t actually his and yet are all fixed and chipped and yowl their little heads off the moment they catch wind/sight of Jeremy and anyway, dogs are clearly better because Ryan says so, therefore it’s true, Jeremy.

(Neither of them realize if they were animals - omg, were-creatures in Destiny universe???? :O - Jeremy is obvs a bork-bork doggo and Ryan a snooty mcsnoot (sekritly soft touch because srsly) kitten-cat and just, tangent I know, but omg.)

Also, though?

Also.

It means all these little things that add up to oh, no, I’m absolutely fucked over this asshole/idiot, because they are and now that they know they can’t stop seeing it, you know?

Jeremy’s :D when he sees Ryan at work and Ryan’s own >:D when he sees Jeremy because up to no good, the both of them? And smaller, quieter things they didn’t really think about and oh man, what now???

But then, also!

The two of them with their special division in Clovis Bray’s security branch...deal...thing where they ends up working with the shadier side of things?

Mostly play security on off-world projects or labs that pop up when new discoveries are made and said discovery can’t be moved/hasn’t been moved to a more secure facility and such.

Security there just as much to protect the discovery/artifact/device than keep the scientists/staff/executives visiting the site safe and so on. (Occasional Adventures because business rivals and shady practices and Drama.)

It’s all good for a while, lets them stew in their Mutual Pining phase and just as they’re about to maybe, maaaaybe do something about it Trouble!!1! happens.

Both of them are at the “I need to talk to you about this...thing,” stage of things and thinking oh, no, he knows I have the FEELINGS for him and the :O!!1! of what could mean for their ~friendship and so on?

But then Ryan gets called to the Clovis Bray facility on Mars in Meridian Bay while Jeremy stays behind, which isn’t unheard of for them?

But it’s rare when the company separates them. know they’re far more effective as a team and so on, but the call comes from the top and they can’t just say no, so Ryan goes.

Has a Bad Feeling and Jeremy knows him well enough to pick up on it, but pretends he doesn’t, that everything’s fine even though there’s been more chatter on restricted frequencies - Clovis Bray and otherwise - for a few days now, something big going down that’s effecting everyone.

This growing concern/panic leaders are trying to keep under wraps while they figure out how to handle it and so on.

And, look, they’ve been in the business long enough to know to trust Bad Feelings and suchlike? But Jeremy’s all :D because Ryan’s so worked up and he’s trying to reassure him they’ll be fine, you know? Damn good at their jobs and nothing’s managed to kill them yet.

(Yet being the keyword there, Jeremy, as Ryan keeps telling him when Jeremy’s a few drinks in on a slow night and they’re just enjoying one another’s company and sharing stories and yeah.)

Anyway.

Ryan heads to Mars and Jeremy sticks behind and somewhere in between that the Collapse happens, because of course it does.

Just a big ol’ kaboom-level disaster in which they both end up super, duper dead?

But then they get better.

Kind of?

Because, look.

Ryan gets all kinds of fucked up during the kaboom-level disaster and he’s in a Clovis Bray facility and there’s the whole...Exo thing, right?

Hand-wavy shenanigans all over the place in which he’s Exo-fied just before everything goes to hell (really goes to hell) and he comes online or whatever they call it just in time to die again.

(Doesn’t remember the first one, because fleshy human body all fucked up and coding on the table and uh, wow, yes. Also Ryan and his Thing for androids in Sky Factory 4 and also just robots and the like in general, so yeah?)

Anyway.

Ryan dies (again) during the collapse in a shiny Exo body and no time at all to address that, which.

Perfect?

Perfect.

Years go by as the sands of Mars start to bury human cities and whatnot, and along comes a Ghost.

Ryan’s Ghost, to be matter of fact.

Little bastard’s been looking for its Guardian for a long, long time by the time it gets to Mars, seen a lot.

And for whatever reason when it’s poking about this half-buried Clovis Bray facility and stumbles on this shiny new (not so much) Exo decides ah, yes, this one is the one I’ve been looking for all this time.

Ryan gets resurrected on Mars, wakes up choking on dust and sand (or maybe it’s just his mind telling him that’s what’s happening, because Exo? who knows) and this goddamn floating ball of metal and light and sass in front of him.

The Clovis Bray facility is a disaster and the Cabal haven’t found it yet (yet) but they’re going to any day and anyway, anyway, not a good idea to stick around a dead place like that.

His Ghost brought him back a few years after the Collapse, Dark Ages days still, before things like Iron Lords or fancy classes like Titans or Warlocks or Hunters.

Is something of a cross between a Titan and a Warlock in temperament and abilities and understandably a little leery of his little Ghost buddy? Like what even is it/he?

But also, also?

Ryan remembers, okay.

For whatever reasons, he remembers.

Wakes up in a Clovis Bray facility - was there meeting with some higher-ups about concerns they had about some incoming trouble and reluctant to pull both of them from their assignment.

Figured Ryan could speak for them both, and then kaboom, the Collapse and his Exo-fication which he really, really should not remember? But hard to deny the proof and such, and maybe his Ghost is able to pull some information from the computers around them

(And the what the actual fuck and I did not agree to that when I signed my contract and what the fucking fuck and so on of dealing with that on top of everything else and it’s just. It’s a lot to process.)

He remembers his previous life, although there are some gaps and the whatnot - maybe that’s what happens when you die and some sassy floating orb resurrects you, Ryan doesn’t have a frame of reference for these things okay - and from what his Ghost is saying people shouldn’t do that?

Especially with the Exo-fication process and anyway, anyway, yes.

So he keeps quiet about it for the moment, all this oh shit, and fuck, Jeremy and that in the back of his mind and initial wariness of his Ghost and what that’s all about.

Finds a way to get them back to wherever he and Jeremy were assigned - grab a jumpship from the Clovis Bray facility and leave Mars and it’s dead cities behind headed towards Earth because where else would they go?

But also maybe there are others like Ryan and while they’re out here might as well check to see if there are? Bring any survivors and such back with them if they can.

All they find are cities in ruin and the dead, though.

Worse, places where the dead should be, but aren’t.

Because spooky.

But also Bad Things, not all of which are due to the other races the Darkness introduced to humanity, because you know, humanity at its worst and so on.

Still, it gives Ryan the chance to learn about his new body, and his Light-given abilities, to trust them, and weirdly enough bond with his Ghost.

Gives the poor thing a name like Reggie or some other terrible thing that has it sighing and all that at him as humans are just super weird about stuff like that?

But at the same time it’s a name, something more than just Ghost. Which. Not an insult? But still, a name.

When they get to where Ryan and Jeremy were stationed he’s not really expecting to find Jeremy after everything else they’ve seen along the way. Odds stacked against them from the start and all that, and he’s not surprised to find the facility torn open and broken down.

Finds bodies here and there, doesn’t want to look closer but he can’t not at the same time.

Recognizes a few of them, scientists and staff and some security operatives he and Jeremy worked with.

Reggie clearly knows Ryan’s lying about not remembering anything, but chooses not to call him on it at the time.

Not when there’s this...rawness to him as he explores the place he lived and worked in who knows how many years go. Finds the bodies and other remnants of a life (long past, ended violently in the Collapse along with those of everyone else there.

Listens to messages people left before, during, and after the Collapse.

Usual day-to-day things, work logs or personal journals that tick over into calls to supervisors over unusual readings and the like? And then towards the end and staticky and all that, warnings to whoever stumbles across the facility.

Breached containment and toxic chemical ruptures and all that that had to be locked down.

(The handful of people on the other side of it, either too slow or too goddamned brave, sacrificing themselves for the others even though they knew it wouldn’t matter much in the end, and doing it anyway)

Sightings of unknown creatures - beings? Roaming the area outside the facility while its security measures were still active, what remaining security operatives going to confront them and not returning, or dragging themselves back to safety just to die with some cryptic words on what they’d seen out there.

Final words of survivors doomed to die either by whatever was on the other side of the fences and security measures once they inevitably failed or some other cause. (Exposure to toxins/radiation or other fun things. Starvation, etc. No need to worry about old age or natural causes because yeah no, not in the cards for them.)

That cheerful kind of stuff, you know?

Ryan and his Ghost digging into the computers they could and watching footage, watching people he knew a lifetime ago dying.

Watching Jeremy taking charge of things, having to order people to their deaths in the days after the Collapse whether it be to containment breaches or enemies at their gates and so on.

A few logs and personal videos Jeremy left, ones that Ryan makes copies of for himself - Reggie makes copies of everything they find, but Jeremy’s are just for Ryan, you know?

All of what they find may be useful one day, important, but Jeremy’s are just for Ryan. (Reggie safeguards those like you wouldn’t believe because they’re obviously important to Ryan.)

One of Jeremy’s videos are of him in the cramped quarters he and Ryan had to share, half a wall missing and all that because of course.

More rubble than room at that point, and yet it’s where he decided to record that video message.

All quiet and sad and hopeless because no rescue is coming for them, and look, okay, look.

He knows Ryan has to be dead by that point, otherwise his Battle Buddy would have come for him and the others, Clovis Bray be damned.

And Jeremy’s not quite looking at the camera as he just.

Confesses?

Tells Ryan - this one video is for Ryan even though Jeremy’s certain he’d never see it now, but he can’t not and he’ll probably be dead before long anyway, so fuck it, right?

So Jeremy tells Ryan all about the Mutual Pining he was doing leading up to the Collapse, right? All the reasons he fell head over heels for his idiot Battle Buddy and fear of fucking things up between them not knowing if Ryan felt the same and just.

A lot of FEELS going on there?

And then he talks about the Bad Feeling of Ryan’s and the call for him to go to Mars while Jeremy stayed behind.

Tells him he knew something was off, wrong, that something big was coming and goddamn does he hate being right about that kind of thing?

And then, okay.

There’s this tired little laugh, and Jeremy looking right into the camera.

Looks tired, worn down. Like he hasn’t slept in days (hadn’t, most likely) and lost too much weight and right on the edge of breaking.

Tells Ryan with this tired little laugh and tired little smile that he loves him, and he’s sorry he wasn’t brave enough to tell him when he had the chance and all these other heartbreaking things before ending the video.

(Delicious Angst.)

Ryan can’t find any other videos or anything from Jeremy after that, but there are references to the last of the security operatives patrolling the facility and running into opposition. Mentions of them not returning, of the other survivors being on their own and -

Ryan and Reggie go looking, because of course they do.

Find bodies, human and otherwise, but there’s a goddamn hole blown into the side of the facility. Fucking crater that opens up into an underground cavern and no safe way down.

Which, fine.

Ryan jumps, and Reggie brings him back.

Again and again and again until they reach the bottom, and then it’s this endless network or caves and tunnels and they could spend a lifetime looking, but enemies - Fallen? - and too many for one lone Light-bearer and their Ghost and he hates it, hates it, but they can’t stay.

Get back to Earth and kick around there for some time, all the while Ryan working on a way to get back to the facility to find Jeremy and lay him to rest or whatever’s going on in his head.

Runs across this shady bastard who (of course) turns out to be the Drifter and they become...not friends so much as acquaintances and all that? Don’t really trust one another, but they’re not enemies either.

The Iron Lords happen, Ryan and Reggie keeping an eye on things because you never know, and then the thing with SIVA happens and everything after that.

Hop around the system (venture a little beyond it for a time before coming back) and are like.

Bemused at these Guardians they find running around?

Like.

Yeah, okay, interesting, but he and Reggie were there for the Iron Lords and surely it’s only a matter of time until the Guardians go the same way?

But...they don’t?

They even build themselves this City under the Traveler and seem to thrive. Guard (heh,) the remnants of humanity that take shelter in the Traveler’s presence and all that.

Watches them branch out, sees the formation of the Vanguard and the Consensus and all that.

And they don’t go unnoticed either, this weird Light-bearer Exo and his Ghost that have been around for a long, long time.

Are considered allies to the Vanguard and Tower and all that? But not to be trusted at the same time.

Not enemies, just.

Need to be taken with a grain of salt, and also for the love of all that’s holy, do not let them around baby Guardians because they’re kind of terrible?

But yes.

Ryan’s around for all the shenanigans in the first Destiny, but doesn’t get involved himself because he’s no Guardian, you see.

Does, however, do things like message the Vanguard when there’s unusual activity among the Fallen or whichever race is hellbent on wiping humanity out that time.

Tips off Ikora’s hidden that something’s going on in the Plaguelands when the Fallen get into SIVA and so on, checks in on Lord Saladin to see how he’s doing, that kind of thing.

And then the Cabal come to Earth and Ryan’s at the edge of the system at the time, but he definitely feels it when the Cabal manage to lock away the Traveler’s Light.

He and Reggie make their way back to Earth because what the hell is going on?

And they get there just in time for some asshole to kick Ghaul’s ass and the Traveler awakening and all that?

And it’s like, well, shit, because things are going to be in disarray for a while, aren’t they?

Usually that means the Vanguard reaching out to him and those like him to help where Guardians can’t.

Stealth and shady shit and other things the Vanguard seems to turn their noses up at because not exactly Noble, the things people like Ryan get up to, but still needed.

Anyway, off he goes, coordinating with Ikora’s Hidden and all that and he’s all over the place for a while.

Goes back to the Tower and happens to catch a glimpse of someone in armor and is like !!!

It’s the Tower, and all the Guardians wandering around in armor is far from unusual?

BUT.

This asshole is sporting some hideous shader that somehow manages to combine purple and orange with yellow trim and it’s this whiplash moment of !!! for Ryan because!

Or fucking course Jeremy and his bullshit color scheme back when they were working for Clovis Bray, you know?

Shit-eating grin at Ryan’s :O face the first time he realized what a monstrous human being Jeremy was and delighting in it every moment afterwards.

And Ryan, right. Far from an expert on all the shaders out there, but he’s pretty sure Eva would never dare create such a thing as it would be akin to a crime against humanity, and yet.

Ryan sneaks about following the Guardian - a goddamned Titan because of course it is - and maybe gets a little sloppy about it.

Because FEELS and also being a little out of his mind over the coincidence?

Anyway, anyway, he ends up getting cornered in a little alley somewhere down in The City. No one else around for blocks and an understandably peeved Guardian facing him down.

“Hey, pal,” he hears, seemingly friendly enough but there’s an edge to the words all the same. “There a reason you’ve been following me for the last few hours?”

The Guardian’s got their helmet on, because of course, but there’s -

Ryan knows that voice.

(Of fucking course he does.)

Stares and stares and stares because oh, okay, this has to be it, you know? He’s been alive for a few hundred years by this point, and sooner or later he’d lose it, because of course he would, right?

Exo-fied without consent and tossed into the life of a Light-bearer - again, without consent although he’s more okay with Reggie’s actions than the scientists at Clovis Bray who Exo-fied him - and made sense he’d go mad at some point.

Because no way in hell is that Jeremy he’s looking at. No damned way.

AND YET.

It totally is Jeremy, although he goes by Rimmy Tim now (lololol, I’m so, so sorry) and doesn’t remember his previous life at all and oh, God his poor Ghost is sporting a shell in the same hideous purple/orange shader and why did it have to be this way?

But also seriously, Ryan being blue screen of death over the whole Jeremy is a goddamned Guardian now???

Apparently resurrected following the Red War and new to the whole Guardian deal.

Ryan tries to stay away because he’s got all these issues to sort out and doesn’t want to scare Jeremy away/make him hate him/who even knows what he’s thinking at that point?

But it doesn’t stick because Jeremy’s alive.

Doesn’t know Ryan or the fact they were this close to figuring their shit out before the world ended around them and things got seriously fucked up.

Thinks Ryan’s some weird shady dude along the lines of the Drifter and all that? Which, to be fair, he is?

BUT.

Zavala and Ikora trust him, and Cayde did too.

Ryan keeps tabs on Jeremy the whole time because like hell is he not going to do that?

But he tries his best to keep his distance for Jeremy’s sake and all?

And then there’s a Situation the Vanguard need him to look into, and would he like help with this one?

And Ryan, okay.

Ryan.

Does his damndest to be good about this, not drag Jeremy into things, but Zavala’s a clever bastard.

Has noticed Ryan’s obvious - to Zavala and Ikora, and even Cayde’s amusement/understanding before he died - interest in Jeremy.

And weirdly, conveniently, Jeremy knocks on the door to Zavala’s office while Ryan’s in there talking to him about this Situation.

“Uh, am I interrupting?”

And Zavala gives Ryan this little smirk.

“Rimmy Tim is a promising young Titan,” he says. “Clever. Resourceful. I think he would prove to be a great asset in this endeavor.”

And Jeremy, okay.

Keen on helping the Vanguard with things like this Situation, and he’ll admit to being curious about weird, shady Ryan and how he fits into things, and anyway.

Ryan doesn’t have much choice in the matter about it all, and before you know it the two of them are out investigating weird shit together.

Ryan barely keeping his shit together the whole time because Jeremy is so fucking Jeremy even though he doesn’t remember anything about his previous life.

Reggie is like, super concerned and doesn’t sass Ryan more than a couple of times a day due to said concern.

Jeremy’s Ghost is like, dude, what the hell? While Reggie is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ because hahaha, Light-bearers are just weird as hell, right?

Their investigations take them back to Mars and the same Clovis Bray facility where Ryan was Exo-fied and it’s.

Jeremy doesn’t know what’s up with Ryan and Reggie, but once Ryan quietly mentions that oh, hey, yeah. This is where they turned me into this *gestures at himself with this weird hollow/bitter laugh because yes* and then he died, and also Reggie found him years later and so on?

And Jeremy’s like shit, dude, and also, oh, okay thinking that’s why they’re being super weird?

But then they find records and some video of human!Ryan way back before and Jeremy’s fucking riveted, okay.

Human!Ryan talking to one of his bosses about an assignment they’re going to send these Battle Buddies off on - Jeremy looking over at Ryan when he flinches or something along those lines and thinks, oh, man, poor guy, because apparently Ryan had a partner way back when?

Someone the Clovis Bray bigwig talks about with this amused/fond look on their face like the two of them were inseparable and all that? Force to be reckoned with and all that.

And!

Of course that’s when the bigwig’s office door opens to let the other half of the Battle Buddies in.

“What the fuck?”

Because, hey, wow, would you look at that? That’s fucking Jeremy sauntering on in with a little grin on his face and all that, tossing human!Ryan a look before giving the Clovis Bray bigwig a nod and no, seriously, what the fuck.

This whole Thing where Ryan stiffly (because dealing with all these EMOTIONS about Jeremy and terrified he’d - rightly so - want nothing to do with Ryan because of the everything) tells him that yeah, so.

They totally knew one another way back when? Worked together and so on and all this and just.

Yeah.

Jeremy’s Ghost manages to salvage more videos of the two of them - sparring in Clovis Bray gym facilities and the whatnot and training/demonstrating/whatever for security operatives?

Ryan leaves him to it while he and Reggie go poking about the rest of the place pretty much expecting Jeremy to tell them he wants nothing to do with them once they’re done with whatever the Vanguard has them doing?

But no, okay, no.

First of all, Jeremy’s super weirded out, but he’s not mad? OR he doesn’t think he is???

It’s complicated.

What he does know is that he and his Ghost like Ryan and Reggie, are starting to think of them as friends, even.

And then, okay, and then?

There’s also the fact that with a different perspective Jeremy can totally fucking see how fucking head over heels he and Ryan were for one another?

The way they look at one another, okay, that alone.

Can’t tell if they were an official? Thing and it feels cruel to ask Ryan, considering Jeremy doesn’t remember him? So he doesn’t.

Just.

Decides he’d like to get to know Ryan now, see what happens and all that?

Ryan’s like ??? because he was not expecting that? Is a little reluctant because what if it’s a mistake? He still loves the shit out of Jeremy, pre-Collapse and now, but maybe that’s not what’s best for Jeremy?

Tries to tell him that, but Jeremy’s not having it.

Like, will honestly leave Ryan alone if he genuinely wants him to considering their past and the emotional roller coaster Ryan’s been on since pretty much forever?

But if it’s all the same to Ryan Jeremy would like to keep working with him?

And they do, because Ryan thinks he’s too much a selfish bastard to tell Jeremy no, and Jeremy kind of feels the same?

They deal with the Situation together (Battle Buddies, fuck yeah) and when they report back to Zavala he’s all HMM at them, but doesn’t comment on things and it just.

Becomes this understood Thing that Ryan and Jeremy are a team now, going all over the place to deal with things Ikora’s Hidden sniff out or some “friend” of Ryan’s want them to look into.

Ryan quietly Suffering because Jeremy’s still so very Jeremy and yet a completely different person. Jeremy falling for Ryan because of course he does, and Ryan keenly aware of it at some point.

(Stopped lying to himself about things like that a long time ago, or maybe he’s too tired to lie to himself about them now, who knows.)

Looks at Jeremy one night, the two of them camped out in a shell of a building and just.

Sighs.

Takes out the batch of recordings and videos Jeremy left behind at the end and gives them to Jeremy because...he doesn’t know why, really.

Just thinks it’s important he sees them for himself before he says something he might regret. (Does something he might regret, idk.)

And then off Ryan goes to keep watch or patrol the area or whatever and conveniently not be there while Jeremy watches his past self confessing his love to Ryan like that was a mistake he never got to make in person or something?

It makes no goddamned sense, and Jeremy’s a bit of an emotional mess by the end of it because jfc, he past him was a complete idiot, and both Ryans are too?

Past Ryan just for being a dense idiot the same as past Jeremy, present Ryan because he’s been carrying those recordings along with him for ages, and the whole Guilt about not finding Jeremy’s body to lay him to rest way back when.

The Guilt about knowing who Jeremy was when he met him again and not telling him (that makes Jeremy a little angry because dude, seriously?), and yet again more Guilt for not telling him about the Mutual Pining?

And just.

He yells at Ryan a hell of a lot when he tracks him down, finds him on a rooftop staring up at the stars while Reggie watches over him.

Realizes Ryan’s looking towards the sector of space where he and Ryan were stationed when the Collapse happened, that the idiot probably made a habit of doing so after Jeremy died because Delicious Angst?

He yells, but there’s no real heat to it because Jeremy’s a wreck, and also he gets it?

Doesn’t know Ryan super well, just yet, but enough to see why he’d do/think some of the things he has.

Feels...not guilty, exactly, but something in that he doesn’t remember Ryan or the lives they had before all...this, but.

They’ve got a second chance, and maybe, maybe they could do something with it?

Not saying they have to, necessarily, but.

Uh.

They do make a good team, and all that, and -

Ryan’s just looking at Jeremy like he doesn’t know what to say (it’s true) and kind of like he thinks he may be dreaming this (he’s not) and Jeremy’s afraid he’s saying all the wrong things?

But then.

It’s like

That could be a thing they could do, become Battle Buddies 2.0 and let Zavala know he only has himself to blame for it, so of course they do, you know?

Go off and Adventure about, causing Zavala headache after headache and getting these little smiles out of Ikora and such.

And one day maybe they get their shit together and finally freaking do something about all the FEELINGS the have for one another.

Get it right this time, with the love confessions and smooches - or like, whatever it is Exos do in that regard?

But yes.

Also they run into the rest of the AH bunch at some point, a few of which are some of Ryan’s shady friends, because of course they are. >:D

(ALSO, omg, yessss? I was like aw, man, not again Bungie :((((((((((((((( even though I totally understand the reasons for the delay? Like. I want the shinies of new content and omg, EXO STRANGER :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD right now? But also omg, yes Bunige, please take the time you need. XD)

#ragehappy #jeremwood #battle buddies #battle buddies destiny au #prompt fills #demoncowedgar #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#(shit #sorry about the posting fail everyone!) also #long post

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