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vgfm · 4 years

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Deltarune Theory: The True Identity and Importance of “Everyman”

I’ve been away from the Undertale theory scene for a long time. It’s been so long that a whole new-fangled game got announced, and I’ve got some theories on it.

Are these theories about Gaster or Sans or whatever’s going on with Kris? Not exactly. At least, not yet. I’ve got a better character in mind.

Let’s start with Everyman: Undertale’s most obscure character and (I think) one of the most pivotal in Deltarune.

This is a two-part theory: the first part outlines who Everyman is and why I think he’ll be important in Deltarune. The second part? You’ll have to read and find out.

This is a long one and with loads of images, so strap yourselves in.

Sections

Part 1: Introduction to Everyman

Who is Everyman?

“So Everyman’s just an Easter egg, right?”

Everyman’s Importance

Why did Everyman appear in True Lab?

Why Everyman will have a bigger role in Deltarune

Part 2: Everyman is ???

What will Everyman’s role be?

Jevil’s Connection to Everyman

The Spade King’s clue

Additional Evidence

“Seriously?”

The Gaster connection

The “Strange Son”

Who made who?

“Seriously, who is Everyman?”

End

Closing Summary

Final Conclusions

Who is Everyman?

"Everyman” is a special attack that appears during the Reaper Bird amalgamate fight in True Lab.

This same figure appears twice in Deltarune’s first chapter:

Once as graffiti in an alleyway in Hometown...

...and again as a rare bullet attack during Jevil’s fight.

The name “Everyman” only ever appears in-game next to his graffiti portrait in Hometown. Everyman’s sprites are simply titled “strangeman” in Undertale’s game files:

[Image transcript: UTModTool is showing multiple highlighted sprite entries that begin with “spr_strangeman”. On the right is the file “spr_strangeman_walk” opened, showing a picture of Everyman. End image transcript]

Some time after Undertale’s release there was a since-deleted tweet from Toby with a picture of Reaper Bird’s attack that he titled “Everyman,” which is where fans first got the name.

[Image transcript: A tweet from toby fox that says “Everyman”. The first reply says “Is that his name. please thell me thats his obj name.” Toby’s response repeats “Everyman.” The next reply says “everything i aspire to be.” Toby responds again with “’Everyman’ you aspire to be.” Toby then adds another tweet saying “Description. Just a good guy that shows up on occasion.” end image transcript.]

This is a web archive screenshot so the image of Everyman’s bullet sprite wasn’t preserved here. Special thanks to catcat for tracking this one down!

“So Everyman’s just an Easter egg, right?”

I don’t think so. I’d be more inclined to write off Everyman’s role in Deltarune as a mere cameo if he had only shown up once. But it’s odd that Toby felt the need to include Everyman twice in a single chapter. To me this seems less like a one-off cameo and more like foreshadowing for a greater role in the full game.

Let’s compare Everyman’s appearances to instances of character foreshadowing and one-off cameos from Undertale and Deltarune:

Mettaton

[Image transcript: four Undertale screenshots arranged in a grid. In the top-left screenshot, the narration text box reads “(the machine isn’t working.)” as Frisk stares at Mettaton in Snowdin’s colored tile puzzle room. In the top-right screenshot, the narration textbox is reading a TV announcement in Papyrus’ house: “(It says ‘STAY TUNED FOR A NEW PROGRAM - MTT.’)”. In the bottom-left screenshot, Napstablook’s text box says “there’s a show i like to watch on it... sometimes...” as Frisk looks at their television. In the bottom-right screenshot, Undyne’s text box says “This oven is some top-of-the-line MTT thing.” as Frisk stares at her oven. End image transcript.]

Mettaton is foreshadowed multiple times before he makes his proper introduction in Alphys’ Lab. This includes a direct on-screen appearance of his rectangular form as part of Snowdin’s colored tile puzzle. What’s interesting is that half of these references (including the tile puzzle) only make sense in hindsight to a first-time player. For all we know there could be other, more-cryptic Everyman references already in Deltarune that we don’t have the full context to understand yet.

Rouxls Kaard

Despite his legendary introductory sequence catching many-a-player off-guard, Rouxls Kaard actually is foreshadowed a couple of times before his stunning debut.

[Image transcript: four Deltarune screenshots arranged in a grid. In the top-left screenshot, Ralsei is reading a message from Rouxls Kaard: “It says... ‘Thoust fools, thou will NEVER figure it out now!’. This is continued in the top-right screenshot: “Then it, um, says, ‘PS - I make my own Rules. - RK’”. In the bottom-left screenshot, a puzzle-master says “ROUXLS KAARD... Lord of the Puzzles... Be careful...!” In the bottom-right screenshot, one of Clover’s heads says “RK came by... What a hunk!” End image transcript.]

I’ve noticed from watching Let’s Plays that many people don’t even realize that these lines were meant to foreshadow him (and I’m pretty sure I didn’t realize it either on my first playthrough).

Ice-E

Now here’s something that’s an example of both a one-off cameo and proper foreshadowing! In Undertale, Ice-E is referenced exactly once in the entire game—as part of Sans’ Monster Kidz Word Search puzzle. No other character mentions Ice-E, Ice-E does not appear in-person, nor does the Ice-E’s restaurant appear... in Undertale. Deltarune is a completely different story.

[image transcript: Two Deltarune screenshots side-by-side. in the left screenshot, Kris looks under their sink and the narration text box says: “A can of Ice-E’s Cool Boys Body Spray ‘Spray For The Boys,’ Flamin’ Hot Pizza Flavor.” In the right screenshot, Kris reads a chart in the hospital. The narration text box says: “(It’s a classic 1-to-10 pain scale, using ICE-E as a model.)” End image transcript.]

In Deltarune chapter 1 we find numerous references and bits of foreshadowing for Ice-E and, lo and behold, we see that Ice-E’s restaurant exists in Hometown at the end of chapter 1. And notice how it’s multiple references and not just a one-off like last time.

In every example of foreshadowing listed above we’re given more than one hint of a character’s presence, and so far Everyman fits this same pattern. This makes me feel safe in assuming he will have a bigger role in the full game.

Everyman’s Importance

What’s interesting is that in Chapter 1, Everyman appears in both the light and dark worlds. So far Deltarune has kept the light and dark worlds largely separate from one another, with only Kris and Susie traveling between them (as far as we know).

Everyman’s presence in both worlds implies that either he can travel between both worlds as well, or at least that lightners and darkners are both familiar with him.

Based on what we know, I’d wager that Everyman is a lightner—specifically, a monster. I say this for two reasons: 1.) so far we’ve only seen lightners (Kris and Susie) travel between both worlds, and 2.) this would explain Everyman’s appearance as one of Reaper Bird’s attacks in Undertale’s True Lab.

Why did Everyman appear in the True Lab?

The worlds of Undertale and Deltarune are connected. Toby has all-but-confirmed this himself.

[Image transcript: A screenshot from the official Deltarune website’s question-and-answer page. The question says “So there’s no connections between the two games?”. The answer says “It’s a different world that might even have different rules. That doesn’t mean there will be no connections at all though.” End image transcript.]

One major connection between Undertale and Deltarune is their largely-shared cast of characters. Many major characters from Undertale make an appearance in Deltarune’s first chapter, and Toby has shown that at least some characters from Deltarune’s universe have counterparts in the Undertale universe as well.

The Undertale Alarm Clock App makes reference to Rudolph Holiday living in the Underground some time prior to the events of Undertale.

[Image transcript: A dialogue box where Asgore says “Rudy... loved the holidays, you know.” End image transcript.]

This dialogue also strongly implies that Undertale’s universe has a counterpart for Noelle.

[Image transcript: Another dialogue box from Asgore. He says: “With a warm slice of fruitcake on the table. His youngest daughter peeking shyly from around the corner...” End image transcript]

Depending on how one interprets the Clamgirl NPC’s dialogue, there may or may not be an Undertale version of Susie (aka “Suzy”) too.

[Image transcript: Two Undertale screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, Clamgirl tells Frisk: “Synchronicity...? My neighbor’s daughter looks about your age.” In the right screenshot her dialogue continues: “Her name is ‘Suzy.’ I feel like you two should be friends.” End image transcript.]

I’d argue that Everyman also had a “counterpart” in Undertale’s universe who lived as a monster in the Underground. Much like Rudy, the Underground’s Everyman likely grew old and eventually “fell down”. But unlike Rudy, Everyman was sent to the True Lab for the royal scientist’s soul experiments and became part of the Reaper Bird amalgamate.

This would fit with the pattern that we see with most other amalgamates, namely that they each seem to be made up of one named/noteworthy monster combined with several other generic monsters. The formula goes like this:

Lemon Bread = Shyra (Shyren’s Sister) + Aaron + Moldbygg

Endogeny = Muttler + various dog enemies

Snowdrake Mother = Crystal (Snowdrake’s Mom) + Vegetoids(?)

Reaper Bird = Everyman + Astigmatism + Whimsalot + Final Froggit

The Memoryheads seem to not “fit” with the other amalgamates, perhaps intentionally, so I’ll leave them out for now.

Long story short: Everyman was most likely a monster since he was part of an amalgamate and (as far as we know) amalgamates can only be made of monsters.

Why Everyman will have a bigger role in Deltarune

We see in Deltarune that three of the monsters who became amalgamates in Undertale have since passed away. This fits a trend I’ve noticed of Toby trying to “explain” the absence of characters who are prominent in one of his games but not the other.

The examples I cited above of Rudy, Noelle, and (possibly) Susie existing in Undertale’s universe also serve as “excuses” for where those characters were and why they were absent from the events of Undertale’s story. Rudy was dead and Noelle and “Suzy” were living with their families (presumably) in parts of the Underground where Frisk never ventured.

Shyra, Muttler, and Crystal are similarly “excused” from Deltarune’s story when the graveyard informs the player of their passing. Gerson is likewise excluded from Deltarune due to having passed away before the events of the game.

Conveniently, Everyman is not listed among the amalgamate monsters who have passed away in Hometown, and the alleyway graffiti implies he’s alive and well.

We know that Deltarune’s timeline and character ages don’t match up perfectly with Undertale’s—Deltarune Asriel is still alive and slightly older than Kris, who’s roughly the same age as DR Monster Kid. Conversely, Undertale Asriel died long before Frisk entered the Underground, yet Frisk is still seemingly in the same age bracket as UT Monster Kid (who’s barely younger than Asriel in Deltarune). Like Rudy, we can assume that Deltarune’s Everyman is younger than the Everyman who “fell down” in the Underground.

What will Everyman’s role be?

Remember when I said this was a two-part theory? Well, here’s the second half of my theory: Everyman is the Knight.

[Image transcript: A text box that says “Yes, you read that correctly.” End image transcript.]

Yes, the same Knight mentioned by Seam, Jevil, and the King of Spades. The same Knight who’s pulling new dark fountains out of the earth and who’s implied to be a major antagonist in the full game.

I could hedge my bets by saying Everyman is merely “connected” to the Knight, but if the Knight is a character we already know of then I think Everyman is the most likely candidate.

Let’s start with the name: Everyman’s sprites are titled “strangeman” in Undertale’s files. The very first mention we get of the Knight in Deltarune is Seam describing a “strange knight” who appeared, complete with red font for emphasis.

[Image transcript: Seam speaking inside of a shop, saying: “But, recently, a strange knight appeared... And three of the kings were locked away.” End image transcript.]

The word “strange” seems to be used selectively and very deliberately in Deltarune’s first chapter. Here’s a breakdown of all the times it’s used:

Seam referring to the knight

Seam referring to the Knight’s “strange son” (more on that later)

Telling Seam about Jevil (”Strange Prisoner”)

Seam referring to the “strange someone” that Jevil met

Seam mentioning the “strange words” Jevil said

Rouxls Kaard referring to Lancer (”a strange and irritating darling!”)

Narration before Kris seals the dark fountain (”You felt something strange.”)

Flavor text during the Jevil fight (”Kris gazed strangely”)

The Devilsknife/Jevilstail appearing in a “strange chest” outside of Jevil’s cell upon defeating him (this may be dummied out or only triggers if your inventory is full of weapons/armors and Jevil can’t give his item to you)

The description of the key to Jevil’s cell (”something feels strange about it”)

With the exception of the line from Rouxls Kaard, every instance of “strange” somehow connects to the Knight or Jevil. If the Knight is indeed the “strange someone” who Jevil met then the list tightens even further, to the point where all but one use of the word “strange” is associated with a single character and his handiwork—a very “strange man”, as it were. Speaking of Jevil...

Jevil’s connection to the Knight and Everyman

Jevil’s fight is one of two places where Everyman appears in Deltarune chapter 1. Not only that, but Everyman’s sprite only appears as a rare event during Jevil’s carousel attack, implying that his appearance is somehow significant.

Interestingly enough, the other two sprites that appear during this attack are one with a head that vaguely resembles Mysteryman (believed to be Gaster) and another with the head of a horse, a.k.a. the same as a knight piece on a chess board. It’s also worth pointing out that it’s rarer for the Everyman sprite to appear than it is for either of the other two sprites to appear.

We can also see the Everyman sprite represented in the official Chaos Revolving Keychain from Fangamer.

Jevil mentions the Knight once you defeat him, showing that he has knowledge of his existence.

[Image transcript: Jevil saying “THE HAND OF THE KNIGHT IS DRIFTING FORWARD.” End image transcript.]

This is interesting since Seam’s dialogue implies that Jevil was imprisoned well before the Knight overthrew the three kings at Card Castle. I can think of three possible explanations for this seeming timeline discrepancy:

Jevil is somehow intrinsically “aware” of things that go on outside of his cell

The Knight or someone else visited Jevil in jail to tell him about what happened with the three kings

The Knight is the same “strange someone” that Jevil met before he was locked up

The first explanation is the least likely, imo, due to Jevil asking who Kris, Ralsei, and Susie are when he first meets them.

[Image transcript: Two Deltarune screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, Jevil is talking to the fun gang and he says: “BUT LO, THREE VISITORS STANDING INSIDE?” This continues in the right screenshot, where Jevil says: “WHO ARE YOU FEW?” End image transcript.]

If Jevil was aware of the outside world then he’d surely know of the fun gang’s antics by that point.

The second explanation doesn’t seem very likely either. Seam is the only character who acknowledges Jevil’s existence and we never see Seam visit Card Castle, even after the Spade King has been overthrown.

[Image transcript: Two Deltarune screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, Jack Person tells the fun gang: “By the by, I asked Seam to come here, but...” Continuing onto the right screenshot, where Jack Person finishes by saying “There wasn’t any interest.” End image transcript.]

Jevil’s cell doesn’t seem to have any guards and it’s kept on its own floor, so that would rule out Jevil hearing about the knight from other prisoners.

If someone in the castle brings food to Jevil then he may have overheard it from them, but even that is speculative. Does Jevil even need to eat? He says his body “cannot be killed,” after all.

[Image transcript: Jevil saying “THIS BODY CANNOT BE KILLED!” End image transcript.]

And I’m not sure if the King of Spades would be so accommodating towards a dangerous prisoner.

That just leaves the third explanation, which seems the most likely to me. It’s also the tidiest explanation for how Jevil would be aware of both the Knight and Everyman—they’re the same person.

We can only speculate as to why the “strange someone” caused Jevil to run amok. If that strange someone was the Knight then I would assume that setting Jevil loose may have been his attempt to overthrow or destabilize Card Castle’s leadership. We know that the Knight eventually overthrew the three other kings himself, so that may have been his plan B after Jevil failed or he merely wished to remove Jevil as an obstacle. Either way, the Knight toppled the quadrumvirate and installed the Spade King as the protector of Card Castle’s dark fountain.

The Spade King’s clue

The Spade King is the closest ally of the Knight that we’ve seen so far. The exact nature of their relationship isn’t fully known, but the King’s words imply that he reveres and is loyal to the Knight.

[Image description: Four Deltarune screenshots arranged in a grid. In the top-left, the King of Spades says “By the Knight’s will, I shall shatter your heart to pieces!”. In the top-right, the King says “For the KNIGHT has appeared.” In the bottom-left, the King says “The KNIGHT that pulls the Fountains from the Earth.” In the bottom-right, the King says “My KNIGHT... I shall not fail you...” End image transcript.]

Both characters share an interest in maintaining the existence of dark fountains, given that the Knight has been said to create new fountains by pulling them up from the Earth.

Unlike Jevil, the Spade King’s attacks never make explicit reference to Everyman’s visage, but he does give a possible nod that many players have overlooked. When the Spade King is defeated, he makes a curious gesture by letting his cloak fly away like a butterfly.

While this may be a simple artistic flourish, I always found this moment to be odd and unfitting for a brutish character like the King. It’s also worth pointing out how the King’s cloak is clearly not a part of his body, unlike what’s implied with Lancer’s “clothes”.

[Image transcript: Two Deltarune screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, the battle narration says: “You tell Lancer you can’t tell the difference between his clothes and his body.” The narration continues in the right screenshot, saying “He seems flattered... His ATTACK POWER went down!” End transcript.]

What if the King didn’t always have that butterfly-shaped cloak? Did someone give it to him? Think of where else we’ve seen butterfly motifs before.

At first blush, this seems obvious—the Reaper Bird is clearly made from the Core mercenaries, including Whimsalot. Whimsalot attacks with butterfly bullets, so that’s where Reaper Bird got them from, right? Case closed. Well, not so fast.

It turns out there are two different sets of butterfly bullets in Undertale’s game files, and Reaper Bird’s are different from Whimsalot’s.

[Image transcript: Two groups of butterfly bullet sprites. The left group is labeled “Whimsun / Whimsalot.” The right group is labeled “Reaper Bird”. End image transcript.]

Notice how Reaper Bird’s butterflies are smaller and have pointier, more symmetrical wings? While those differences could be chalked up to limited pixel resolution, it’s interesting how Toby went out of his way to create an entirely unique set of butterfly bullets for Reaper Bird when it arguably would have made more sense for him to recycle the Whimsun butterflies like he did for Whimsalot.

If you want to compare the sprites for yourself I suggest either looking at the game files directly or looking at an actual playthrough of Undertale. I’ve noticed that Spriter’s Resource mistakenly has Reaper Bird’s butterflies listed under Whimsun’s sprite sheet (which is a completely understandable mix-up).

To drive the point home, notice the string names that are used for these butterflies:

[Image transcript: An UTModTool window showing multiple named strings. Highlighted in red are six strings that each contain “obj_strangeman_butterfly” in their names. End image transcript.]

They’re “strangeman” butterflies. Not “amalgamate” or “Reaper Bird” butterflies (despite Reaper Bird having its own share of dedicated strings and named sprites), and they’re not “Whimsalot” butterflies either. Toby clearly delineates them as belonging to strangeman, a.k.a. Everyman, meaning that Everyman is specifically associated with butterfly imagery. The Spade King also makes use of butterfly imagery immediately after he mentions the Knight in his final turn.

Between the King and Jevil, this makes two characters that can be linked to both Everyman and the Knight.

Additional Evidence

Let’s circle back to Reaper Bird for a second. It’s commonly known that this amalgamate is made from Astigmatism, Final Froggit, and Whimsalot. To wit:

These enemies are part of the mercenary group that Mettaton hires to attack you in the Core. Have you ever noticed how out-of-place they seem? Almost every other set of enemies in the game is somehow themed around their environment — Snowdin enemies are ice creatures, Hotland enemies are fire/lava-themed, etc. These mercenaries are themed around medieval warfare and yet they show up in the Core, the most high-tech area in the entire Underground.

What’s even stranger is that this medieval theme seems to come out of nowhere. Astigmatism, Final Froggit, and Whimsalot act as “upgraded” versions of Loox, Froggit, and Whimsun, respectively. And yet their Ruins counterparts don’t have any medieval theming whatsoever—it was added purely for the mercenaries. For whatever reason they’re all dressed like a bunch of wizards and... knights.

[Image transcript: Two Undertale screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, a Core NPC says “Why do I look like a black sausage and not a knight or a wizard?” This continues on the right, where it says “Well... Everyone has an angle they look best from.” End image transcript.]

That’s not my interpretation of their designs—the game outright calls them knights.

On the one hand, it’s true that Asgore’s royal guards also dress up like knights, but the Core mercenaries are explicitly not part of the royal guard—they’re mercenaries.

[Image transcript: Battle flavor text that states “Mercenaries emerge from the shadows.” End image transcript.]

Assuming that Asgore has a dress code for his guards or is just old-fashioned in his sensibilities, there’s still no reason why fighters outside of the guard should follow their standard. Even some of the royal sentries don’t follow this theming, as seen with Doggo and Sans (who’s technically a sentry):

With the abundance of knight-themed royal guard and sentry enemies that exist already, Toby could’ve easily designed the Core Mercenaries to more accurately fit with the Core’s futuristic theme. Doesn’t it seem a little too coincidental that Everyman would wind up as part of the same amalgamate as these otherwise out-of-place knights?

When we look at the other amalgamates, we can see that Lemon Bread (a.k.a. Shyren’s sister) is made up of Waterfall enemies. Endogeny is made up entirely of dog-based enemies. These two amalgamates each have a “theme” for their component monsters that fits the “main” named monster they’re each made of, and Reaper Bird has a clear theme of its own. Why would Everyman be paired with a bunch of knights if he was not connected to them in some way?

Even the Undertale artbook groups Everyman’s concept art with the Core Mercenaries, specifically the ones that look the most like knights and wizards in-game. The book also repeats the name “Everyman” and Toby’s cryptic phrase of “Just a good guy who shows up on occasion.”

Perhaps Everyman knew the Core mercenaries when he was alive? Were they his fellow knights? Or did they work for him before he fell down and they had to then lend their services elsewhere?

“The Knight? Seriously?”

Some of you may be shaking your heads dismissively at the idea of Everyman being the Knight (or you more likely clicked over to another tab by now). I mean, just look at the guy:

What part of this design makes you think “knight”, let alone THE Knight? Well, Seam does refer to the Knight as a “strange” knight, and Everyman certainly fits that bill. But more importantly, we haven’t seen an actual overworld sprite for Everyman yet—we’ve only seen some graffiti and a couple of magic bullet attacks, which are always abstract and simplified.

Not pictured: Froggit, Migosp, Temmie, Moldbygg, Tsunderplane, Mettaton, or Endogeny.

Everyman’s “proper” design would almost certainly differ from his Pillsbury Doughboy-esque bullet sprite, especially if he’s wearing a cloak or a suit of armor. And even if his design doesn’t differ that much, so what? It’s not like this series has ever had an opponent that looks goofy or non-threatening, right?

Another little tidbit I noticed: one of Reaper Bird’s attacks consists of Everyman repeatedly removing his own head.

Or maybe it’s not his head? Perhaps it’s a helmet? Like one that a knight would wear? After all, it’s not unheard of for helmets to have beak-like protrusions.

And this is a series where helmets can come in any shape or size to better fit the needs of the wearer.

Just some food for thought.

The Gaster connection

It’s time to address the elephant in the room: “Isn’t Gaster supposed to be the Knight?” If you haven’t heard by now, this is one of the prevailing theories in the fandom. To be honest, if the Knight ends up not being Everyman then Gaster is the next-best candidate, imo, but these two theories don’t have to be mutually-exclusive. I think a case can be made that Everyman and Gaster are connected in some way.

Let me say up front that this section is highly speculative (unlike the previous sections, which clearly aren’t the least bit speculative). We’re dealing with two super-obscure characters who’ve yet to make a proper on-screen appearance in either game. It’s already hard enough to figure out how either of them connect to the broader Undertale universe, let alone to each other, but I’ll give it a shot.

For starters, we can affirm that both Gaster and Everyman are linked to the True Lab. There’s no shortage of fan theories and speculation on Gaster’s prior usage of the True Lab in his own experiments and I won’t get into all that here, but suffice it to say the True Lab has Gaster’s name written all over it.

(Am I the only one who thinks the DT Extractor looks more like Everyman’s head than it does a Gaster Blaster? Forget I said anything.)

We’ve covered how Everyman appears as one of Reaper Bird’s attacks. Interestingly, the amalgamate Memoryhead has an attack that resembles the head of Mysteryman, the figure believed to be Gaster (which I’ll assume here for simplicity’s sake).

If we follow the logic of my prior “Everyman is the named/important monster that makes up Reaper Bird, fitting the pattern of other amalgamates” argument, then Gaster (or pieces of him) could fill the same role for the Memoryheads.

Everyman and Gaster’s sprites both have the suffix of “man” in Undertale’s game files. Here are all the sprites that use this same naming scheme:

strangeman - Everyman

mysteryman - “Gaster”

snowman - gives you the snowman piece

riverman - a.k.a. River Person

darkman - the shadowy overworld sprites used for the Core Mercenaries

watchingman - The spoon-shaped amalgamate that tucks Frisk into bed

The snowman’s inclusion is a bit of a fluke, because what else would you call a snowman without using “man” in the name? If we exclude the snowman, each instance of “man” represents a mysterious figure that ties back to Everyman and/or Gaster.

We’ve already covered the connection between Everyman and the Core Mercenaries, and it’s easy to connect the “watchingman” amalgamate with the True Lab. River Person is also frequently linked to Gaster in fan theories (and they allude to “the man from the other world” and “the man who speaks in hands”), so what we’re left with is a close-knit community of strange, mysterious "man”s.

This naming scheme looks very intentional on Toby’s part, and he seems to be continuing it in Deltarune by referring to the secret unseen NPC who gives you the egg behind the tree in Scarlet Forest as simply “a man.”

[Image transcript: Narration from the secret egg room. The text box states: “(Well, there is a man here.)” End image transcript]

The Knight’s “Strange Son”?

Remember when I said I’d get back to the Knight’s “strange son”? That’s now. I’m a little iffy on this topic because it involves stacking a whole ton of assumptions onto a single line of dialogue that’s phrased in an ambiguous way. But, if it means what I think it means, it could shed a ton of light on Everyman’s possible connection to Gaster and whether either of them are the Knight.

When you ask Seam about the “Kingdom”, Seam says this:

[Image transcript: Three of Seam’s text boxes arranged vertically. In order, they read: “Historically, this land was ruled by the Four Kings, from CARD CASTLE to the East. But, recently, a strange knight appeared... And three of the kings were locked away. The remaining king put him and his strange son into power.” End image transcript]

Let’s focus on that last sentence. On my first playthrough I misread this line as “the knight put the king and his strange son into power” because that sounds a lot closer to the events that happened—the Spade King and his “strange son” Lancer are in power now because the three kings were locked away, presumably by the Knight.

But the actual text states the opposite—the remaining king (Spade King) put him (the Knight) and his strange son (i.e., the Knight’s son) into power. Or does it? The line could also read as—the remaining king (Spade King) put him (the Knight) and his (the King’s) strange son (Lancer) into power. The second way is awkwardly-structured but technically valid. And this is assuming that Toby didn’t make any grammatical errors when he typed these lines, which he has done on occasion.

[Image transcript: A dialogue box where Dr. Alphys says “I felt so guilty knowing I hadn’t do anything to stop you.” End image transcript.]

Not to be too hard on Toby, but even if Seam’s line is grammatically correct it’s still clunky and murky in its conception—at this point in the game we’ve only just been introduced to Lancer and the fact that his dad is the King, and now this line is potentially introducing yet another father/son duo that is closely connected with Lancer’s dad—is it any wonder that this line is often glossed over by fans?

The second reading, where Lancer is the “strange son,” is also awkward because the Spade King would have little need to put Lancer “into power”. Lancer was already a prince and, presumably, already wielded power in that role. Various NPCs make reference to Lancer bossing them around, and such a thing could’ve easily happened before the three kings were deposed.

If we take Seam’s line with the first reading (where the Knight has a “strange son”) and assume there were no grammatical errors, then this is the only time in chapter 1 that the Knight is ever referred to as having a son. It’s also the only time that the Knight is addressed with pronouns, implying that the Knight is male. If true, this would rule out the theory that Kris (or any potential alter ego that Kris has) is the knight, since Kris is neither male nor do they have a son. This would also rule out Susie, who’s never been a popular contender for being the Knight but is referred to as a “dark knight” on her stats page.

Who made who?

So then, who’s male, widely believed to be the Knight, and is often depicted as having one or more sons?

This (alleged) guy!

“But wait,” you might ask, “isn’t your theory that Everyman is the Knight?” Well, the Knight and his “strange son” seem to be working as a duo in the scenario that Seam outlines, given that the Spade King put both of them “into power.”

Because of Everyman’s connections to the Knight that I’ve laid out, plus the more popular theory that Gaster is the Knight, it’s possible that one may be the Knight and the other may be the Knight’s “strange son.” The way I see it, it doesn’t make a huge difference which one is which.

Now, I don’t think that Gaster and Everyman would be father and son in the strict biological sense. There are a number of reasons for this, but for starters I’m not even sure if Everyman and Gaster are the same species. My inclination is that Everyman is a monster, while Gaster may be a darkner. The latter is mostly my own guess and springboards off of a popular theory that Sans is a darkner, but it’s a whole other can of worms that I won’t get into now.

More importantly, Gaster is strongly implied to have some sort of connection to Sans and Papyrus. All three of them are also connected with special fonts that they each use. As far as I can tell, there’s no widely-used font by the name of “Everyman”, so this would imply that Everyman is not a skeleton and therefore not biologically related to them. However, there’s more than one way to start a family.

Gaster was the royal scientist in Undertale’s universe and it’s not out of the realm of possibility that he (or his potential Deltarune counterpart) could find the means to create life forms artificially.

[Image transcript: The vessel creation scene from Deltarune. The on-screen text says “YOU HAVE CREATED A WONDERFUL FORM.” End image transcript.]

Everyman could be a creation of Gaster’s and thus he’d be Gaster’s “son”.

There’s also another possibility: Everyman is Gaster’s creator. We know that the Knight is pulling new dark fountains out of the Earth. I think the Knight, regardless of who they are, must be able to survive without a dark fountain to give their body form, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to venture into areas where new fountains have yet to be pulled up. The Knight is almost certainly a lightner, and I’ve already detailed why I think Everyman is a lightner as well.

We don’t fully understand how dark fountains interact with darkners, but it’s stated multiple times that dark fountains “give form” to the Dark World.

[Image transcript: Two Deltarune screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, Ralsei’s narration says “Today the FOUNTAIN OF DARKNESS-” and continues into the right screenshot, saying: “The geyser that gives this land form-” End image transcript.]

In the dummied-out manual pages, Ralsei also mentions how his dark fountain gives his body form.

[Image transcript: Ralsei’s manual excerpt, whic says “Dedicated to The unending pillar of darkness that gives my body form.” End image transcript]

Darkners need dark fountains in order to maintain their forms. They may not even be able to survive at all without them. From this point of view, when the Knight creates new dark fountains he’s bringing new darkners to life. If Gaster is a darkner himself, then it’s not unthinkable to imagine that Everyman may have brought him to life in this way and could thus be called his “father”. Seam does refer to lightners as the “creators” of darkners, after all.

[Image transcript: Seam’s dialogue box saying “They were like Gods to us. Our protectors. Our creators. Those who gave us purpose...” End image transcript.]

Ultimately the question of who’s the father and who’s the son is purely speculative. We don’t even know for sure if the Knight has a son, let alone whether it’s Everyman, Gaster, or someone else entirely. It’s very much a “the chicken or the egg?” kind of question.

[Image transcript: Two images. The right is a screenshot of the egg room with narration stating “(You received an Egg)”. End image transcript.]

Hmm...

“Seriously, who is Everyman?”

Let’s bring this home with the question we started with: Who is Everyman? I’ve gone into evidence that he existed as an actual person in Undertale and will likely play a role in Deltarune, but this doesn’t tell us much about the kind of character he is. We don’t even know if “Everyman” is his real name.

If Everyman is indeed a prominent character in Deltarune then there are two possibilities: 1.) he’s a brand new character we’ve never met before, or 2.) he’s someone that we have met before. The first option, while a strong possibility, doesn’t leave us with much to talk about, so let’s look at the second.

Right out the gate I can confidently say that Everyman is not a character that we talked to or had significant interaction with in Undertale. The obvious reason is that he was busy being stuck inside Reaper Bird and he couldn’t have been in two places at once (as far as we know). This means that Everyman would have to be a character introduced in Deltarune chapter 1.

I’ve said before that I believe Everyman is a lightner, so this would rule out any dark world characters. That leaves us with the residents of Hometown who didn’t have direct counterparts in Undertale’s story.

After careful consideration I’ve narrowed the field to two suspects:

Father Alvin

Father Alvin has always struck me as an oddity. He seems like an important member of Hometown’s community, and yet none of the other residents ever talk about him. He’s also conspicuously absent from Undertale’s universe.

The most notable thing about Father Alvin is that his church seems to worship “the Angel”.

[Image transcript: Father Alvin saying “Let the Angel’s power light your way.” End image transcript.]

Ralsei’s prophecy states that the three heroes must seal the dark fountains in order to banish the “Angel’s Heaven.”

[Image transcript: Two Deltaunre screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, Ralsei’s narration says “Only they can seal the fountains.” The right screenshot continues, saying: “And banish the ANGEL’S HEAVEN.” End image transcript.]

This would put the heroes at odds with both the Knight (who’s creating fountains) and whoever is serving this Angel. We can only speculate on the Knight’s motives, but what if he’s acting in service to the Angel?

Something that isn’t brought up much in the fandom is the religious reverence that darkners give to their fountains. The King of Spades refers to the fountains that the Knight creates as “holy” fountains.

[Image transcript: Two Deltarune screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, the King of Spades says “Holy Fountains, whose shadows are creating a new world...” The right screenshot continues, saying “OUR world.” End image transcript.]

The soundtrack that plays at the Fountain is called “The Holy.” Dark fountains can seemingly create life, so it’s easy to imagine the Knight viewing his own mission as some sort of holy rite.

As far as evidence goes for Alvin being Everyman/the Knight, the biggest clue is the drawing signed by Alvin that shows up in the supply closet at the end of chapter 1.

Every other object in the closet represents a part of the dark world that Kris and Susie visited, and yet at no point do they encounter a dark world manifestation of this drawing. We know that the Knight visited Card Castle previously, so this drawing could be meant to represent the Knight’s presence in that part of the dark world.

It’s also worth noting how most of the closet’s toys are arranged from left to right in the order that Kris and Susie encountered them on their journey. Alvin’s drawing is on the far right, just past the open cabinet drawer (i.e., Card Castle), implying that Alvin’s drawing was either at the fountain or that it was effectively the “next” thing that Kris and Susie would’ve encountered if they had stayed.

It’s hard to make out what the drawing could be beyond being a “poorly-drawn picture of a green turtle”, as the flavor text explains. Could it be Everyman? Or is it just a reference to Bold and Brash? Both? Neither? The world may never know. Or it may know when the full game comes out.

Can I also add how strange it is that Alvin’s drawing is in the closet to begin with? Alvin looks to be a pretty old dude, so why would his drawing still be in a school that he no longer attends? I don’t have an answer, I just think it’s weird.

Other clues that could point to Alvin being Everyman are that he is, scientifically speaking, old-looking, which would line up with my hypothesis of Undertale’s Everyman being an older monster who fell down before becoming Reaper Bird.

Alvin also vaguely resembles Everyman as far as their proportions are concerned.

It’s by no means a perfect match, especially if we factor in Alvin’s shell, but both characters possess a round head with some sort of beak or proboscis.

If Everyman actually is Father Alvin, then the title “Everyman” could be a reference to The Summoning of Everyman, a 15th-century religious morality play. I won’t get into the specifics here, but the play focuses on a character named Everyman who must prepare for his inevitable death and judgment for his deeds in life. I don’t really know how much that would tie into Deltarune’s themes or if it’s even a deliberate reference to begin with, so make of it what you will.

Father Alvin was the first character that I suspected of being Everyman when I started writing this theory, but there’s one major sticking point that prevents me from fully embracing the idea: the fact that he lacks a character portrait for his dialogue boxes.

This may seem like a minor nitpick, but dialogue portraits indicate when a character is important to the story, and it would be a pretty big oversight on Toby’s part if a (presumably) recurring antagonist wasn’t given a portrait. Even a three-scene wonder like Rouxls Kaard was given a portrait.

It’s true that recurring characters like Napstablook and Monster Kid weren’t given portraits in Undertale...

But Deltarune has greatly expanded the number of characters with portraits this time around, and we can already infer that Noelle (who had a portrait in chapter 1) will be an important character going forward:

Given Alvin’s limited dialogue in chapter 1 and his lack of a portrait, I’m more inclined to believe that he’ll end up being a minor character, in which case he’d almost certainly not be the Knight (and therefore not Everyman). But who knows, maybe Toby will give him a portrait in the full game.

Thankfully, we have another candidate who might be Everyman:

The Ice-E’s Employees

You think I’m joking? Trust me, you’ll know when I’m joking.

I didn’t initially make the connection between Ice-E’s and Everyman until I saw a post from @curioscurio that pointed me in that direction.

Let’s go back to the Everyman graffiti that appears in Hometown.

Notice how the drawing right next to it resembles Ice-E’s head? I can’t believe this was staring me in the face the whole time and I never realized the connection.

Another point in favor of the Ice-E’s workers is that we don’t even know what two of them look like. We know that Burgerpants is one, and another is implied to be the Nice Cream Bunny that we met in Undertale.

[Image transcript: Two Deltarune screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, the Ice-E’s employee says “Psst, can I tell you a mascot secret? I only started working here because...�� The right screenshot continues, saying “The logo made me think it was an ice-cream shop...” End image transcript.]

But this still leaves the “purple guy” and “The Warrior”, who remain in full costume for chapter 1, meaning that one of them could resemble Everyman underneath their mask.

Speaking of The Warrior, he certainly fits the bill as being “strange.” His title wouldn’t be out of place among the likes of The Knight, and his dialogue refers to the hospital’s medical staff as “white wizards”, which fits with the medieval theming that’s associated with Everyman’s mercenary cohorts in Undertale.

[Image transcript: Two Deltarune screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, the Warrior says “This castle’s WHITE WIZARDs relegated me to this HEALING CHAMBER...” The right screenshot continues, saying “But my BLOOD is BOILING FOR BATTLE!!!” End image transcript.]

Speaking of the Core Mercenaries, here’s an interesting tidbit:

[Image transcript: Two Undertale screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, a Core NPC says “As a youth, I would sneak out to play by this creepy flaming pit.” The right screenshot continues, saying “Since the CORE is always re-arranging, it was like a game trying to find it.” End image transcript.]

I used to assume that the Core Mercenaries were older monsters who fought in the human-monster war, which would explain their insistence on dressing up as old-timey knights and wizards. However, these lines of dialogue imply that the Mercenaries are far younger—young enough to visit the Core when they were kids.

So why would a bunch of younger monsters dress up like old-school knights and wizards? Simple: they’re LARPers. This would explain why their more casual overworld dialogue doesn’t match their overly-serious battle dialogue whatsoever—the battle is over and, thus, so is the act.

What does this have to do with Ice-E’s? Simple. The Warrior is also a LARPer. But he takes it a step further and never lets the act slip. According to Burgerpants, he terrorizes customers with war chants during his day job, and we see him keeping up the act while he’s injured in the hospital. It’s clear that he’s living in a fantasy world, and someone like that would have every reason to spend time in a strange dark world that “seems like” fantasy.

[Image transcript: Lyrics from Deltarune’s credits theme. It says: “And the places that you know seem like fantasy”. End image transcript.]

Someone like him could grow attached to such a place and want to see it spread as far and wide as possible, with no regard for how it would affect the boring “real world”. All he’d need to do is create new dark fountains to sustain this fantasy world.

I also find it interesting that The Warrior is in the hospital during chapter 1. Burgerpants claims that this is the result of “pizza-related injuries.”

[Image transcript: Two dialogue boxes from Burgerpants. Read from top to bottom, it says “The Warrior - Thankfully absent due to pizza-related injuries. Constantly terrorizing customers with war chants.” End image transcript.]

But what if there was another reason? We can see signs of “some kind of struggle” in the King of Spade’s throne room, complete with tattered wall banners.

[Image transcript: Narration in the Spade King’s throne room. The text box says “(Wall banners. They seem to have been through some kind of struggle...)” End image transcript.]

What if the Knight sustained injuries when he overthrew the three kings and had to go to the hospital afterwards? A “struggle” implies that there was some resistance involved.

Another interesting coincidence is that the previews for Deltarune Chapter 2 strongly imply that it will take place in a dark world that forms in the hospital.

Earlier previews have also implied that Noelle will have a larger role in Chapter 2, and she’d have every reason to be in the hospital visiting her father when things hit the fan.

It feels awfully convenient that a new dark world springs up right in the spot where the Warrior is. I wouldn’t be surprised if chapter 2 gives us our first glimpse of the Knight in person, and what better way than a surprise run-in with the Warrior?

Some of you may be asking why I’d suggest a minor character like The Warrior might be the Knight when he has a single line of dialogue and no dialogue portrait? Simple: characters tend not to have portraits when their face is hidden from view. We see this with Undyne in Undertale:

She doesn’t gain a dialogue portrait until after she removes her helmet. This is also true of Burgerpants in Deltarune.

So, unlike Father Alvin, The Warrior has an excuse for not having a dialogue portrait yet. While Father Alvin has some compelling evidence supporting him being the Knight/Everyman, The Warrior has no major counter-argument that I can think of (unlike Father “no portrait” Alvin), so I give The Warrior the edge as far as Everyman suspects go.

I’d also like point out that if Gaster ends up not being the Knight or the Knight’s “Strange Son,” then we could get a two-for-one deal of Father Alvin as the Knight and The Warrior as his strange son. Definitely not the most likely outcome, but technically possible! I’d imagine those two would have a hilariously awkward dynamic if they were related.

Closing Summary

Wow, this post went on for a while! Let’s summarize what we’ve learned today.

Everyman (in Undertale)

Was likely a monster who “fell down”

Became part of the Reaper Bird Amalgamate

Likely knew the Core Mercenaries

Is connected to butterfly imagery

Described as “strange”

May or may not have looked like his bullet sprite

May or may not have been connected to “mysteryman”/Gaster

May or may not have been connected to the River Person

Everyman (in Deltarune)

Is alive and active

Is known to both lightners and darkners

Can most likely travel between the light and dark worlds

Is known of by Jevil

May or may not resemble his Undertale bullet sprite

May or may not be connected to “mysteryman”/Gaster

May or may not be Father Alvin

May or may not be an Ice-E’s employee

May or may not be the Knight or the Knight’s “strange son”

The Knight

Described as “strange”

Is pulling up new dark fountains from the Earth

Has been to the dark world

Is possibly a lightner/monster

Is connected to the Spade King, who uses butterfly imagery

Overthrew the other three kings at Card Castle

Is known of by Jevil and Seam

May or may not be Everyman

May or may not be “mysteryman”/Gaster

May or may not be the “strange someone” who changed Jevil

Likely male

Likely has a “strange son”

Everyman and the Knight (similarities)

Both are likely monsters

Both are alive and active in Deltarune’s world

Both are (presumably) male

Both have a presence in the dark world

Both are known by Jevil and may have met him previously

Both are associated with butterfly imagery to some degree

Both are connected to knight imagery

Both are described as “strange”

Both may be connected to “mysteryman”/Gaster

Both are foreshadowed in Deltarune chapter 1

Final Conclusions

So what do I really think? I’m reminded of Undertale’s original Kickstarter demo and how much of the full game’s story was left out of it. Right now we’re in a similar situation with Deltarune. I can’t view any of my theories with certainty because at the end of the day I have no idea what Toby’s going to write for the full game, but I can guess.

If I had to put a number to it, I’d say the odds of Everyman making further appearances in Deltarune is 95% and the odds of him being the Knight is about 66%. There’s always the possibility that Gaster will usurp the title of Knight and leave Everyman as the Knight’s “strange son” or as the far less illustrious role of “no one particularly important”.

If Everyman is in the game, I’d give 50/50 odds that he’s one of the Ice-E’s employees, mainly due to the Warrior’s situation lining up well with Chapter 2′s (likely) setting. I’d then give a 25% chance it’s Father Alvin and the remaining 25% as “anyone else”.

Thanks for reading all of this (or skipping to the end). I’ve seen hardly anyone talk about our favorite strange little man and I just wanted to get the word about him out there. Even if you don’t agree with my conclusions, I’m happy to (hopefully) ignite further discussion over this often-overlooked character.

For now I’ve said all that I can say on the topic. All we can do is wait and see what happens. Fingers crossed.

Special thanks to @curioscurio for inspiring me to make this post in the first place.

Date published: December 10th, 2020

#deltarune #undertale #everyman #undertale theory #gaster

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imayjinmin · 3 years

Text

When Darkness Meets ~ Chapter 5

EXO, NCT, BTS, MONSTA X x Reader

Word count: 1.0k

Playlist: Here

Synopsis: The NCT leaders are starting to hit heads while planning. One thinks staying out of the situation is good while the other wants a new member. Not seeing eye to eye they are pushed back five steps. What none of them know is that a new group is close on their tails. A lot closer.

Taeyong sighed for the upmost time, holding the bridge of his nose he glared up at the group in front of him. Why? Why could they not understand that this was a big deal? Why could they not want to help keep an eye on an enemy? Instead they were standing their ground against his idea all together. The four towers in the room standing as body guards for the other two leaders. Why? He had no idea. Going to voice his concerns one last time, before he was cut off by Kun slamming his hands on the opposing side of the mahogany. Taeyong’s eyes went wide as he finally realized what Kun was doing. He was challenging him in a battle that would not end well for either parties. Sighing one last time he stood up showing his confidence to the rest. Getting into a similar position as Kun, he glared at him.

“Kun, I hope you understand this loud and clear. I made another leader for the sake of our group, do not make me take that away from you. You are walking on very thin ice at the moment, so I suggest you tread lightly.”

Seeing the realization hit Kun of the gravity of the situation, he turned his attention to Mark. He looking back at Taeyong with the same ferocious glare. If it were aimed at any other person he would be proud to say he taught him...but right now he was angry more than anything.

“Mark, why are you fighting me on this so much?”

“Well...I know that we are known as the most innocent and I don’t want to be put into a situation where any of them could get hurt.” Taeyong’s glare let up upon hearing the explanation.

“Mark, I get it, believe me. Do you think I don’t worry about all of you every time we go on escapades?” Seeing Lucas shake his head followed by Ten smacking him, he looked down. “Lucas do you think that low of me?” Seeing the behemoth dart his eyes around, Taeyong already knew the answer. “Lucas, I’m sorry, really.”

“Why do we need to get in touch with her anyway?” Turning to see Jisung was raising his hand, as if asking to question him.

“Well, we are always looking for new members. We have never thought of a female in this line of work before, but she definitely powerful. So it would seem to be smart to try and get her on our side. But we cannot just pop up at her door step with twenty-three people, she will think it is an ambush. It will be dangerous for us more than her.”

“How come it’s dangerous for us but not her? There are twenty-three of us and one of her.” Yangyang pondered.

“I will allow Chenle to explain everything, he knows everything about her that is needed. Chenle it’s your time to shine.” Watching the young one come striding up and sitting on his desk. Crossing his arms over his chest and walking over to Chenle’s side. Looking at the elder with a sheepish grin.

“No?” Seeing Taeyong shake his head at him, he jumped off the desk. “It was worth a try. But besides that, her name is Y/n Huang.” Watching everyone look at Renjun. he gasped.

“I’m not related to her!” Chenle cleared his throat, catching everyone’s attention one more time.

“He is not related to her. She is a Mafia Princess basically. Her mother is Bae Irene, her father is Lee Dongwook, her siblings are Kris Wu, Luhan, and Huang Zitao. They were all adopted at incredibly young ages. I know also you are thinking well they do not share the same last name, well that is because when she was young the three got involved with EXO. Deciding it would protect their sister more, if they each changed their last surnames except for Zitao. It is believed that only one of the EXO members knows about them being siblings. Jimin also appears to know, but they are nothing to worry about yet, so far only EXO is an issue. Anyway back to the point, she is twenty-six years old, has a big group to back her up. All of them are trained by the best of the best. Which is why she is dangerous. She has two cousins involved with two Chinese clans. Both of which have high rankings, but her cousins are top rank for skills among other things. Keep in mind that earlier I said she was a Mafia Princess, to which I am not lying. Anyone that plans to even get remotely close to her ends up being found in...gruesome ways.”

“See Taeyong this exactly why I said this is a bad idea. She kills anybody that tries anything.”

“Kun, you are really starting to piss me off today. Can you please just sit and listen today? Why are fighting against every little thing today?”

“Because I know that some of us will not make it out alive!”

“You don’t know what the outcome of it could be! Stop being so damn scared of everything!” Standing up so fast that the chair behind him flew back, hitting the ground. Making an angry thud, everyone stopped and watched waiting to see what will happen between the two leaders. The tension in the room so thick that it felt suffocating. Slowly standing, Mark reached his hands out to each side. Looking at both of his leaders, seeing the smoke coming out of their ears.

“We can just talk about this, there is no need to come for each other’s throats.”

“Mark, you need to learn how stay out things that pay no mind to you.” Hearing the sentence being growled out was one thing but hearing it from Kun was worrying. Ten and WinWin quickly grabbed each of his arms. Thrashing in their grip until they let go. Glaring at both of them, before walking out of the room slamming the door into the wall in the process. Ten turned to Taeyong.

“I’m going to go talk to him, try to fix this.”

***

Creeping around the side of the garage, the six men stilled.

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flowercrown-bard · 4 years

Text

Birds Still Sing When They Fall From The Sky

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 belongs to this

The thing about storms at sea was that you could see them coming if you knew what to look for. A hardened sailor could smell it brewing in the air, while less experiences folk might still be enjoying the clear sky. If you didn’t listen to those who could read the signs, you would be caught in a storm you never saw coming with no time to evade it.

Geralt notices the sky change colour. He could smell the sharp scent of the storm approaching and still, he was caught off guard by how fast the towering clouds formed, dark and heavy and bursting with danger.

“We have to go,” he said harshly, turning to Jaskier who still sat next to him, serene, as though he couldn’t see the danger approaching them.

His eyes were wide, looking on as the wall of clouds drew nearer, threatening to rob the sky of the last patches of blue.

“It’s majestic,” Jaskier said, a dreamy expression on his face.

Sand was whipped up by a strong gust of wind, pricking into Geralt’s skin like a thousand sharp needles.

He needed to get Jaskier away from here, quickly before they got caught in the middle of the storm and swallowed by the raging sea. The first heavy droplets fell down on them, as he tugged Jaskier up, ignoring his protests.

“Come on, we have to go home. We’ll be safe there.” He froze. Home. Slowly, he turned to Jaskier. “You did close the windows before we left, didn’t you?”

Jaskier’s brows furrowed. “Of course I did. I told you I would do it.” His eyes drifted back to the storm clouds, uncaring of the rain that by now must be blurring his vision. “I wonder though…If I shut them too tightly… do you think I’d be able to open them again?”

The wind whipped Geralt’s hair into his face, making it stick to his skin with the sand.

“I am strong enough to open them for you again,” he said, urging Jaskier onwards.

A strange smile appeared on Jaskier’s face that almost couldn’t be called such. “I hope you are.”

Geralt gave no reply. The storm-driven sand cut into their bare feet as he dragged Jaskier with him, hurting like each step hurt the mermaid in Jaskier’s story. Geralt shrugged off his coat, holding it over Jaskier’s head, fearing it wouldn’t do much to shield him from the worst.

When they finally left the sand behind, they were greeted by the stony path made slippery from the rain.

“Jaskier!”

Despite having his arm around Jaskier, Geralt barely managed to catch him, as his legs gave out under him, his feet unable to find purchase on the slick rocks.

“I’m fine,” Jaskier said, but he sounded breathless. “My hero. Always there for me.”

Geralt pressed his lips into a thin line. The rain fell so hard that it became hard to see even for him. He was soaked to his bones already and he felt Jaskier shiver at the whipping wind hitting him. Over the sound of the waves smashing against the shore and the wind howling like wolves, Geralt could make out the distinct chattering of Jaskier’s teeth. His grip around Jaskier’s thin frame tightened, as he took on the impossible feat of positioning himself in a way that would put Jaskier in his slipstream.

Geralt squinted at the road ahead.

Their cottage was too far away. There was no way Geralt would drag Jaskier through this storm for any longer than he needed to.

Gritting his teeth, he pulled Jaskier forward, gathering him as close as he could without Jaskier stumbling again. Their walk was agonizingly slow, Jaskier’s feet scuffing across the ground, the cutting opposite of the way he used to dance and prance.

With a trembling fist, Geralt knocked on the first door they came across. A familiar fear that he hadn’t felt in years seized him. Like an old injury acting up. Like a beast rearing its head, the faintest disturbance enough to wake it from its slumber. They won’t let us enter. They will see a hurt bard and a fearsome witcher and they will shut the door in our faces. They won’t care if Jaskier dies, because he’s with me. They won’t open, they -

The door was pushed ajar, only enough to show the face of a young person, Geralt had seen around town once or twice. Kris, his mind supplied helpfully. They had a pinched expression on their face. Any moment now they will shut the door on us, telling us to get lost.

“For the gods’ sake, get in here. Quickly. Before you catch your death out there.”

Geralt froze. The words took a painfully long moment to registered. The door opened wider for them to enter. As soon as they were inside, the door fell close with a heavy thud.

The unexpected heat of the house hit Geralt like Jaskier’s tackling embrace whenever they had been separated for too long. He exhaled sharply at the unpleasant feeling of needles pushing into his skin.

Something warm and dry was draped over him. A towel.

“Here,” a concerned voice said. “We need to get you dry.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt croaked, still unmoving.

Kris smiled at him. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him. You make sure you’re alright.”

Jaskier’s weight was lifted from him and briefly, his hands tightened, unwilling to let go of him, when he so obviously still needed help. But Kris put another towel over Jaskier’s head, rubbing it carefully to dry his hair, before making to pull off Jaskier’s wet clothes.

Geralt’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”

Kris didn’t look up from their task, but their fingers stilled on Jaskier’s jacket. “Helping. You two need to get out of these clothes if you don’t want to catch a cold.” After a brief pause they added with a crooked smile “And I would appreciate it, if you didn’t drench my home. You might not have noticed, but you are soaked.”

This shook Geralt out of his stupor. “We can stay here?” He asked, his anxiety slowly ebbing away.

“Of course,” Kris said, as they guided Jaskier to the living room, draping a blanket over him. “Until the storm is over. Or longer than that, if you need it.”

Geralt’s mouth went dry. “I – thank you.”

“No problem at all. What’s the point of living in a small village in the middle of nowhere, if not to have each other’s back?”

Geralt could only nod, forcing his breathing to even out. They were right. This wasn’t like it had been back then. No one here would just shut their doors in Geralt’s face if he ever needed help. Jaskier had made sure of that.

He wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s back when Kris left the room. They came back shortly thereafter, bearing dry clothes and two steaming mugs of tea.

Geralt took the offered clothes. They were a bright green colour. Jaskier would tease him mercilessly once he wasn’t shivering anymore. Or he would pout like a petulant child that Kris had accomplished in five minutes what Jaskier had tried to do for years.

“You don’t have to do that,” Geralt said, when Kris kneeled down in front of Jaskier to help him put on the trousers.

Kris looked up, a patient but exasperated look on their face. “Of course I don’t. But I know what I’m doing and you need to warm up yourself.” They nodded towards the mugs they had set on a nearby table and resumed their task.

Geralt hesitated, before doing as he was told. The tea tasted heavenly on his tongue, warming him from the inside out. He let out a much needed breath. All the while Kris was rubbing Jaskier’s hands until the colour returned to him and spoke to him in a soothing voice until the shivering stopped. Jaskier smiled at them, squeezing their hand in thanks, before laying down on the sofa and nodding off almost instantly. Kris pulled the blanket over Jaskier, tugging him in.

“Are you alright?” Kris asked, taking the second mug they had brought and sitting down across from Geralt.

Geralt grunted in response, unsure what he even wanted to say with the sound. It hadn’t occurred to him to ask himself how he was until Kris had asked. It hadn’t been important. Neither was it important now.

“Fine as long as Jaskier is.”

Kris heaved a sigh and set their mug down. “And when he isn’t?” They left a pause for Geralt to answer; a chance which he let pass by. “You don’t have to do this on your own, you know.”

Geralt’s grip on his mug tightened and his shoulders tensed. “I can do it. I’ve done it before. After the snowstorm in Kaedwen. After every goddamn monster that got him.” The words rushed out of Geralt without his permission, desperate to convince Kris – or himself? - that he was good enough at caring for Jaskier. He wouldn’t ever leave him. There was nothing that Geralt wouldn’t be able to see through with him.

A gentle but firm hand rested on his arm, making him look up. “I’m not going to take him away from you. All I’m saying is that you’ll need to look after yourself too.” They pulled their lip between their teeth, glancing over to where Jaskier was still sleeping peacefully. “I’m not going to push this, but if you ever need help, you can come to me. I’ve taken care of people before. I know how hard it is to do it alone.”

Kris’ words still tumbled through Geralt’s mind when the noise of the drumming rain subsided and the blue reclaimed its place on the sky and he and Jaskier left Kris’ home far behind.

He barely noticed arriving at their little cottage, until he automatically pushed the door open. His heart dropped.

Shock took hold of his limps, as he stared at their destroyed living room. Papers were strewn about, trinkets had fallen off the shelf and Jaskier’s lute was buried beneath his notebooks.

A light breeze ruffled his hair and his head snapped up to the window that was wide open, on one side unhinged.

“I don’t understand…” Geralt’s voice trailed off.

He heard Jaskier swallow thickly and turned around to see his eyes fixed on the window. “I think I’m starting to.” Before Geralt could ask what he meant, Jaskier left his side to stride over to the window, uncaring of the sheets of paper that littered his way. With a trembling hand he reached for the window, but hesitated. “You promise me you will try to help me open it again?” he asked with a shaking voice.

“Of course,” Geralt said. He meant it, though he had the creeping suspicion that he wasn’t completely certain what exactly Jaskier was asking for. But whatever it was, he would be there for him.

Kris’ words flashed through his mind and he shook himself.

They were quiet, when they picked up Jaskier’s notes, doing their best to sort through them, but the glum silence quickly got replaced by loving hums, when they discovered some trinket Geralt had brought back from one of his hunts, that had been gathering dust, almost forgotten.

They laughed when they deliberately messed up what pages belonged to which story, creating nonsense that Geralt threatened to publish under Jaskier’s name, earning him a playful slap on his arm.

They both sighed in relief when they opened the lute case to find the instrument unharmed. For a while the familiar soothing sounds of Jaskier plucking notes was the only sound in their cottage.

It was strangely serene taking care of this mess. After the storm they longed for calm and if they had to create it for themselves out of the shambles of their living room, then that’s what they would do.

Between the time spent putting everything back in its place and messing around while doing so, the afternoon passed by unnoticed and faded into night.

Jaskier put the lute away with a yawn and Geralt too found himself aching to get some rest.

Geralt’s breath hitched when he entered their bedroom. He hadn’t thought – it hadn’t crossed his mind –

“Oh.” Jaskier said and that small word sounded so big in the gaping hole in Geralt’s chest.

Of course the storm hadn’t spared their bedroom. There was not much of value in here, not much that could be broken anyway, expect –

Geralt lowered himself to his knees as he picked up the shards of the broken shell that would never again hang over their bed.

He knew that his quietness was deafening, crushing the unexpected cheerfulness that had embraced them while going through their stuff and being reminded of all the memories they had accumulated over the years, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

It was silly, he knew. There was no such thing as luck coming from sea shells or wishes from dandelions. Geralt didn’t believe in avoiding black cats or throwing salt over one’s shoulder. It wouldn’t do for a witcher to be superstitious.

And yet.

Seeing the pieces of the shell that was supposed to guard their luck lying on the floor like this, it felt as though his heart had shattered with it.

He picked up the pieces furiously, not caring whether or not the edges would cut into his skin.

He only stopped, when a hand took his, prying his fingers open more gently than he deserved.

“Jaskier,” he said, his voice broken. “Don’t bother. It’s gone.”

Jaskier didn’t listen and Geralt didn’t have the heart to close his hand and deny Jaskier to see pieces of Geralt’s first gift he had given him in their new home. He didn’t have the courage to look at Jaskier’s face as he did.

“Oh,” Jaskier said again, but this time it sounded excited, almost …happy?

Geralt raised his brows and turned to Jaskier, who held the biggest piece in his hand. It was the one with the hole, the thread still attached to it. Without hesitation Jaskier put it around his head.

“Jaskier, it’s broken. It’s not… it’s not the way it used to be.”

Jaskier’s smile turned radiant. “I know. It’s so much better now!” He lifted one hand to feel over his new necklace. “Now I can always carry a piece of our luck with me while some of it is still at home.” His eyes brightened. “Oh! We can take pieces of it anywhere we go. We can attach one to Roach’s saddle. We can bring one to the nice lady at the bakery who gave me some buns for free. And the fishermen for when they leave home. And the little forest on top of the dunes.”

Geralt watched silently as Jaskier rattled off all the names and places who deserved to have a piece of their luck and found himself smiling once more.

Jaskier was still brimming with excitement for his new stack of luck when they went to bed. Before Geralt closed his eyes, he made sure to put one of the pieces aside. Of all the people who deserved a share of their luck, Kris was surely amongst the ones who should have it the most.

#shout out to thingr2 for reminding me that Geralt needs some help #I might have mentioned i have no clue what im doing #is this angst? is this comfort?#it was meant to be angst but who even knows at this point #i defininetyl dont #geraskier #old jaskier #old!jaskier #the coast #witcher #the witcher #witcher fanfiction #fic #fanfic #my writing #accidental multichapter #Birds still sing when they fall from the sky #memory loss

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black-streak · 5 years

Text

Waiting for the Worms- In the Flesh.

Part 16

No editing, we die like men: ill prepared and confused. Did I read this over even once before posting? Nope.

Warnings back fully into effect. Have triggers? Just go ahead and avoid this. Don't want to spoil anything, so I wont say which, but guys, you've seen my other chapters for this. You know better.

This was actually fun to write with my weird view point that's both in the moment and yet so disconnected.

CLOSED list of hooligans: @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

Following Damian back into the living room, she saw the group all gathered around their phones, whispering amongst themselves. Approaching soundlessly, she peeked over Juleka's shoulder, catching sight of the screen at the same time Jason did.

The Joker. He had escaped Arkham once more and now held a broadcast, obviously attempting to get the attention of the Batman. Apparently he set up a new game for them to play. To make matters worse, the prize for winning? The return of Robin. A young looking boy in a different form of the Robin suit was shown for only a moment, glaring at the camera in his face. The timer was set and the broadcast cut.

That location, it was far closer to their own location than the Wayne manor. Bruce wouldn't make it. It was her and Jason all over again.

Jason.

Turning on her heel, she took a deep breath and swallowed hard to settle the anger rising in her throat and took command.

"Damian, see to Jason, keep him calm. The pit is about to take hold," she spoke calmly, Damian nodded and lead the taller man away as she turned towards the group watching her every move, "I'm setting out. Jason is likely to come with me. You'll watch over Damian in my absence. I do not expect any of the kwamis to wish to transform with me, but if you decide to, you'll need to be morally ambiguous unlike Tikki or Plagg. Neither of us will be held back or redirected. You'll have to accept whatever comes of this," looking away from the kwamis and to the bristling teens in front of her, she hardened her gaze, "Unless one of you has experience with the Lazarus Pits and their effects, you will stay away from either of us or that building. Judging by the gasps I hear from the kwamis, they will enforce this for me if you decide not to heed my words."

Stalking into her room once more, she started to drag out bags, open compartments in drawers, pull off seemingly decorative pieces from the walls. Longg approached her carefully from the side.

"I will transform with you. The others would feel more comfortable if one of you were superpowered and I'm morally gray unlike the main set."

Nodding, she took his piece carefully, "I need you to make my suit stealthy. I will not be caught due to bright colors."

"The suit will match your will," he reassured.

Transforming, she took in the multiple shades of grey and black lining her body in waves, selective holding pouches hidden within the fabric. Placing her knives about her body, she found a retractable bladed staff along her thigh. Perfect, one less large piece to carry.

Grabbing a mask, she slipped out to find Jason mostly calm. Taking his hand in hers, she led him to the bathroom and handed him his own clothes back from the league missions.

"He won't be transforming?" Marc inquired.

"His body is more riddled with madness. It's less than it would be had his soul been dipped as mine has, but I've had time to tame and curb the insanity. He hasn't. Add superpowers to the mix?"

"He'll level a city," Plagg spoke up.

"Exactly."

"And you're taking him with you?" Kagami growled out, obviously against the idea.

"Would you rather I leave him here so he can accidently kill one of you and hate himself for the rest of his life? Besides, he has no attachment towards Damian yet. I'm not risking it," her tone brokered no arguments and Jason emerged in that moment. He immediately went into her room and pulled out a gun from her side drawer, muscle memory letting him navigate the place as his own. He put it in the holster on his thigh and went towards her equipment, still out and waiting for him, sifting through until he found a larger set of machetes, grabbing them and a second mask before rejoining her at the window to the fire escape. With just a glance towards the other they knew their minds were in sync.

"Damian, stay and watch them," Jason ordered, the kid nodding at his given mission, turning towards the team with crossed arms.

With that, they climbed out and took off across the rooftops.

…

The run went by in a blur of motion neither could remember. Now they crouched on the edge of the building the Joker was supposedly in, scoping out the entrances. She could feel Jason practically vibrating at her side and traced spirals along his spine to keep him mentally in place.

"Shhh, focus on my instructions Jason. Those voices aren't as important as our own," she murmured, finding an unguarded door. The idiot never used obvious doors, so of course the clown wasn't focused on them as much as the windows, basement and roof access. The door she found looked like an old employee entrance, easily overlooked.

"Jay?" Before she could finish the inquiry, he moved forward and picked the lock, letting them in, keeping in front of her.

"Based on the lighting in that video, I'd guess they're keeping him further up. What do you think?"

"Likely midway up, seventh or eighth level."

They skirted their way up staircases, quietly knocking out anyone they found on their way up. Occasionally they stopped to practice deep breaths, as the further up they went, the more vivid the green in their eyes glowed. Both could sense the impending catalyst and tried to press the insanity back. They wanted this to be on their own terms.

At about the sixth level, Jason found himself having to hold Mari back, having almost torn out a guys throat for simply struggling too much in the takedown.

"Not worth it. Not yet."

Breathing heavily, the voices dropped back to reasonable levels, allowing their continued movement. Mari found herself meditating as they went, recentering herself. One of them had to stay fully self aware and she knew it had to be her. Jason needed someone to watch out for him in his first true rush, not to panic in the middle when no one could hold them back. She would be there the way Talia had been for her. As Damian normally was.

At the ninth floor, they found their target.

Marinette felt borderline insulted at the difference in treatment.

The current Robin was swinging upside down, bound in rope and gagged.

They had been chained to an operation table, beaten to a pulp with every moment too long the bat took. This boy didn't even have a guard on him. Sure, there were boobytraps set all over the damn place that they painstakingly dismantled one at a time, but even still. Not a scratch on the kid's face. Shaking the thought, Mari chided herself. Her anger was reserved for the people who put them in this situation, not some boy that was obviously dragged into the adults' personal issues. She knew when they escaped and the madness leveled out, relief for his unharmed state would course through her like a tidal wave. For now, she felt contempt and resignation. When the last trap finally fell apart, they heard his voice.

"Batsy! So you finally decide to show on time for one of your pretty birds?" It called, still not in view.

Jason bristled in her peripheral and she yanked him around quickly to focus in on her, aware of the hanging kid's eyes trained on them.

"Save Robin. He can't. He won't. We know this. Do what he didn't for us. Save. Him."

Jason's pupils blew under the mask and a growl tore from his throat as he turned towards the masked child, letting the anger direct itself into righting the injustice done unto him.

Marinette turned back towards the voice, creeping forward, bladed staff withdrawn and extended. She watched its shadow as it twisted along the walls. Finally, it turned the wrong corner and she slammed the side of the staff against him, letting the staff glide along their body as they were forced back, the tip catching their chest and opening a gash through his suit.

Joker jolted, gasping and confused, "You're not Batsy."

A feral grin grew upon her face, "No, but I'm so much more fun, wouldn't you say?" she activated wind dragon, blowing him further back across the room until he stumbled and fell onto his back. He quickly grabbed up a device and smiled maniacally, holding it up to view, starting a spiel about what it would do if he pressed this particular button, blah blah blah. She wasn't here for his rambling. Activating electric dragon, she launched herself into the device, shorting it out into a useless hunk of metal. Reappearing in front of him, she drew out her blades, only to hear quiet feet land in the room over.

"And what exactly did you have in mind, girly?" He asked, licking at the corner of his mouth in a weird tic sort of a way.

Placing a grin to rival his own across her face, she tilted her head, "It is not what I'll do that should concern you. Rather, what I'll allow him to do," she watched annoyed confusion flicker across the clownesque features as Jason appeared at her side, a second set seeming to approach her from behind. Reaching back, one hand grabbed a thin shoulder in a harsh grip to keep the kid in his place, the other went to her side to grip a broad shoulder in a more crushing grip to keep Jason from moving too soon. She turned and looked into masked, violently green eyes.

"Do you want to?" A nod. "Will you regret it?" A shake. "Will you take back your mind when it's over?" Another nod. "He's all yours, Bird. Get it out of your system, find me when you're done." A growl.

She let go and turned towards the kid, bodily backing him up into the other room, out of view.

"You don't want to see this."

"Who are you?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, I'll figure it out either way. Be nice if you made it easy though."

"Hmm, how does one become a Robin? Oh yeah, the previous one either leaves or dies."

"You don't mean," the kid's eyes widen.

"He shouldn't of allowed another one. Isn't one child dying for his cause enough?"

"It's not like that," he grew defensive.

"Isn't it though? Whether you wanted it or not, if anything happens to you, it's because he decided another child could fight actual murderers."

"That's beside the point, I need to stop them," he tried to push past her only for her to activate wind dragon and pick him straight up and out of the building to another rooftop, letting him go at the top, though grabbing his grapple as she reformed.

"Do you recognize this part of the city?"

"What are you doing? Let me back in there," he sounded panicked.

"Breath, little bird. Do you recognize where we are?"

"I- yes. I recognize it."

"Do you know how far it is from Wayne Manor?"

"What does that-" he attempted playing dumb.

"Do you?"

"Of course I do!"

"I know you do. You're a smart little bird. Very well learned. You know how long it takes to get here from the Manor as well don't you? And what time the broadcast went up?"

The kid's face darkened, and while he obviously didn't want to admit it, he could obviously make the calculations.

"He wouldn't have made it on time."

"It was on purpose. Joker wants to remind him of his greatest failure," the teen, she realized, rationalized.

"Batman isn't the only one Joker reminded. People don't take kindly to reminders of their dying day."

"So you two are?"

"Undead? In a funny way, yes. And absolutely riddled with destructive insanity."

"You don't seem it."

"I've had time to repress it. Learn control and stability. Him, not so much. This is his first relapse. There's no preventing it. Only directing it. I figure taking out an actual child murderer, who has tortured and ended the life of hundreds, including the sick and dying would be an alright outlet."

"It's immoral."

"We both know the only reason Bruce won't kill is that he wouldn't stop once he started. He'd lose control entirely. It's nothing to do with morality. Otherwise he wouldn't turn a blind eye to the select hits Alfred made in his time."

"How do you know so much?"

"How do you?"

"I figured it out on my own and decided for him."

"Very clever of you. But you didn't decide for him, he let you and took advantage of your determination. I'm sure in more ways than this one." She picked his arguments apart, remembering the way Talia detached Damian from herself. She didn't like the idea of manipulating a kid into disowning his own family, but a toxic situation was still toxic. She'd contact Alfred later to get back in touch as well as a better read on the situation.

As the teen became frustrated once more, he moves towards her to get back his gear only for Jason to drop next to them, breathing heavily with blood dripping down his arms and from the blades across his back, down onto his legs and the ground surrounding.

He seemed to slowly come back from the insanity, leaning into her, "I killed him. Fuck, I killed him," he gasped.

Marinette reached up and stroked his head in soothing motions.

"It's okay, Jay, it's okay. He deserved it. You hate taking another's life and feel the weight of it, but it wasn't a life that was regrettable to end," she whispered, remembering the words that assuaged her own guilt.

"The-the Joker is dead?" The teen before them whispered.

Jason peeked up at the little Robin before them, the green sparking for another moment, "He made another? Replaced us? The mantle should have died when you did. Dick should have stopped him," he groaned out, hatred and fear pulsing in waves.

"Oh shit, you're the last Robin. Jason," the teen's breath caught, half in awe, half dread.

"Yeah, the last. Why? You shouldn't be here," his voice quivered.

Mari handed the grappling gear back over, looking him directly in his hidden eyes, "I know you're going to tell him Jason's back. That he killed the Joker. I'm sure you'll even mention me. But I'm sure he'll notice our own message."

"And what would that be?"

"We were the ones to save you. Not him. Let me know if you ever need an escape from that nightmare."

With that, she lead Jason away, having heard his breathing even out and calm moments before.

"Let's go home," she whispered in his ear, getting a soft nod and taking off back across the roofs.

#jasonette #maribat #ml x dc #WFTW #part 16 #Robin response.exe has stopped responding #hes a little shocked #thats why he no fight harder #if anyone wants me to actually write a snippet of Jasons killing let me know #be warned it would be needlessly graphic

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tabloidtoc · 3 years

Text

Globe, May 3

You can buy a brand new copy of this issue without the mailing label for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Prince William and Prince Harry: Showdown at Prince Philip's Funeral

Page 2: Up Front & Personal -- Alec Baldwin, Kathy Ireland, Conan O'Brien grabs lunch in West Hollywood

Page 3: Meg Ryan, Heather Graham, Jon Voight steps out in Beverly Hills

Page 4: Kris Jenner says her role as momager of the Kardashian clan is like being a fireman because she has to put out so many heated squabbles -- satisfying daughters Kourtney Kardashian, Kim Kardashian, Khloe Kardashian, Kendall Jenner and Kylie Jenner takes skill and Kourtney is often so fed up she fires her three or four times a day, but Kris believes she's done a good job, saying she's totally dedicated to her brood and spends oodles of time and energy going the extra mile for them

* Jailed Ghislaine Maxwell is raising a stink over federal lawmen's claims she's a prison piggy, saying the institution's busted sewer pipes, not her toilet habits, are responsible for the overwhelming stench in her cell -- lawyers for sex perv Jeffrey Epstein's accused madam and sex trafficker leveled the charge to flush out prosecutors' claims the socialite's cage stinks like a hog's pen because she doesn't flush her toilet -- her lawyer Bobbi Sternheim insists there was a pervasive stench of sewage in Ms. Maxwell's unit, necessitating guards to flush pipes by pouring water down open drains in an effort to trap and disperse gaseous emissions and at times the stench in Ms. Maxwell's isolation cell has been overwhelming due to overflowing of toilets in the cell block above -- as for Ghislaine flushing, she does it often, at the guards' bidding even, though she doesn't use the commode in her cell due to lack of privacy

Page 5: Kelly Clarkson's tacky tales of pooping in trash cans and other crude antics are grossing out her alarmed pals, who fear divorce stress is pushing the talk queen over the edge and while Kelly has loved to shock people, her cringeworthy behavior has gotten worse since filing for divorce from music manager Brandon Blackstock, father of her daughter River and son Remington -- now Kelly has many fearing she's finally flipped after recently telling talk show guest Clint Black on-air she destroyed a poor trash can by pooping in it during a quick backstage concert break and she's constantly making potty jokes and seems to get a rise out of shocking people and even by Kelly's standards, this was a step too far and people are urging her to scale back on the belching, farting and gross anecdotes because they're a turnoff and make her look trashy and her grueling workload and prickly divorce has manifested in this gross behavior where she can't seem to hold her tongue and blurts out whatever she's thinking without consideration for other people -- other stars like Gwen Stefani and Blake Shelton are thinking twice before inviting her to social events and for talk show rivals like Ellen DeGeneres and Drew Barrymore, it's a dream seeing her push the boundaries of taste and Kelly doesn't have a filter and as long as she's got an audience she's just going to keep on doing it

Page 6: Macaulay Culkin is the daddy of a brand-new baby girl named Dakota, who is named after Macaulay's sister who died at 29 in a 2008 car crash, and she was delivered by Macaulay's lover actress Brenda Song

Page 7: Angelina Jolie has become a stressed-out single mom trying to care for her brood of six during the pandemic lockdown, and the strain is is showing on the 98-pound actress, but the 45-year-old, who shuns hiring a full-time nanny, still wants sole custody of her underage kids Pax, Zahara, Shiloh, Knox and Vivienne, and is fighting tooth and nail with ex-husband Brad Pitt to get it; their oldest Maddox Jolie-Pitt is now 19 and considered independent although the university student frequently lives with his mother -- caring for the gang puts a big drain on Angelina's bank account and her custody war with Brad is costing a pretty penny -- Jolie and her children spend most of their time bunkered in a massive 7,500-square-foot Los Feliz mansion that boasts a huge library lined with resource books but the kids need to be separated so they can concentrate on their individual Zoom classes and someone is always hungry or needing help and at the end of the school day, when they are bored, they end up looking for Mom to find them something to do while she is trying to work on her own projects, and like most siblings, the kids fight or argue, and that can test any parent's nerves and Angie is with the kids pretty much 24/7 and it's taking a toll -- there is a glimmer of hope as schools are close to reopening and once the five youngest are back in school for several hours a day it will give Angelina the breaks she needs and hopefully she can hang tight until then

Page 8: Cover Story -- Prince William and Prince Harry bury Prince Philip, but not the ax -- despite their public displays of grief, bitter brothers William and Harry erupted in a raging royal screaming match behind the scenes of their grandfather's Prince Philip's funeral and Princess Diana's sons lashed out, accusing each other of ugly betrayals and destroying the royal family and the princes blamed each other's wives for igniting the family feud and their showdown was explosive and they're refusing to forgive or make peace and any hope Philip's death will end this feud is pie in the sky -- Harry and William were forced to reunite to mark the Duke of Edinburgh's passing and comfort their grandmother Queen Elizabeth, but that doesn't mean they're kissing and making up; far from it because Harry and his wife Meghan Markle have caused so much damage with their TV interview, it will take a lifetime to heal this rift -- sparks began flying almost immediately after Harry landed back in his homeland. He went straight to his former marital home Frogmore Cottage in Windsor to quarantine under COVID rules while William and his wife Duchess Kate Middleton and their three children were holed up at their country home Anmer House in Norfolk, about 100 miles away, but that didn't stop the once-inseparable brothers exploding in fury at each other during a video call finalizing funeral arrangements -- William and Harry knew they'd have to walk together behind the cortege to honor their grandfather, but that was where their reunion ended and while their grieving grandmother and royal relatives mourned the loss of the family patriarch, William and Harry's pent-up anger and frustrations exploded as, on the same side of the Atlantic for the first time in over a year, William blasted Harry and Meghan for bad-mouthing his wife Kate and selfishly trying to destroy the monarchy and he reamed Harry for not visiting their grandfather in his final days and using the funeral as a publicity stunt while Harry retaliated by accusing his brother of throwing him and Meghan under the bus and vowed never to talk to him again -- instead of an expected joint public statement praising their beloved grandfather, they issued separate tributes, which underlined their split as in their statement, William and Kate reminisced about Philip taking their children for horse-drawn carriage rides and they vowed to support the queen in the years ahead and that was a dig at Harry and Meghan, who can't help the queen due to their self-imposed exile to California and it was also a shot because Harry's son Archie has spent no time with his royal relatives since his birth almost two years ago -- Philip's death has only intensified this horrific feud and this war is far from over, and may never be

Page 10: Prince Philip went to his grave regretting he couldn't stop Prince Harry and his wife Meghan Markle from ripping the royal family in a bombshell TV interview -- The Duke of Edinburgh called the explosive tell-all madness and he had some sympathy for Harry and Meghan's desire to do their own thing, but he thought they were wrong and he hated Harry and Meghan's preoccupation with their own problems and their willingness to talk about them in public; one of his rules was give interviews but don't talk about yourself -- Philip loved Harry and thought him a good man, but he did not believe they were doing the right thing for the country or themselves when they quit royal duties and Philip died worrying the explosive interview permanently damaged the monarchy and he deeply regretted he wasn't able to prevent the scandal

* Outraged Prince Philip shunned his son Prince Andrew's ex-wife Duchess Sarah Ferguson for the last 19 years of his life after she was caught cheating in raunchy photos that went public -- Philip considered Fergie beyond the pale and refused to have anything to do with her and when Sarah was staying at Balmoral Castle with her daughters, her ex-father-in-law would run from a room she'd entered and Fergie said it was ridiculous because as soon as she came through one door, he'd be falling over the corgis to get out of the other and she added it was very funny, except, of course, it wasn't -- the only time they appeared together in public was at Prince Harry's 2018 wedding, 26 years after Fergie was photographed lounging topless while her then lover John Bryan sucked on her toes on the French Riviera; she and Andrew were separated at the time

Page 11: Marie Osmond is getting the last laugh on rival Sharon Osbourne after the big-mouthed Brit, who chased off Marie from The Talk, was booted from the chat show in a racism scandal -- while Marie doesn't wish ill on anyone, she certainly isn't feeling any sympathy for Sharon's plight -- in public, Marie has never said a harsh word about Sharon, and never blamed her co-star with pushing her off The Talk, but behind the scenes, Sharon made mild-mannered Marie's life hell, which chased her away and Marie still cringes from the whole experience of working with the brash former reality diva, more than seven months after leaving the show and Marie doesn't want to stoke the fire, but it's kind of satisfying in a way that Sharon's finally being exposed for what she is: a snippy, smug phony

* Chaka Khan was the first celeb booted on Season 21 of Dancing with the Stars in 2015, and it's no wonder because she was a lousy partner, claims pro hoofer Keo Motsepe -- Keo slammed the singer for demanding they only rehearse around midnight, because that's when the night owl was used to going to the record studio and laying down tracks -- Keo accepted the challenge but now calls Chaka his worst partner ever

Page 12: Celebrity Buzz -- Jane Lynch eats lunch in West Hollywood (picture), Khloe Kardashian is getting called out for her attempt to erase a bathing suit snap that revealed some very real body dimples and famous for posting airbrushed and filtered photos depicting her as flawless she went berserk over the unedited pic summoning legal eagles to get the image scrubbed off the internet but she drew colossal backlash, Sutton Stracke of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills got promoted to series regular and impressed producers by making ousted castmate Teddi Mellencamp cry by branding her boring, fired New York Housewife Dorinda Medley has lost 14 pounds, Lil Nas X's limited-edition designer Satan Shoes which commanded $1,018 when they hit the market are now deader than a doornail after legal pressure from Nike

Page 13: Dean Cain sports a Superman-style logo on his hoodie as he bums around Malibu (picture), Annabella Sciorra shoots an episode of Blue Bloods in NYC (picture), co-anchor T.J. Holmes shows his tongue on the Good Morning America set (picture), Olympic champ Lindsey Vonn admits skiing was a slippery slope when she started mingling with the beautiful people of Hollywood

Page 14: Brooklyn Decker proves she going gray at just 34 and she's kinda digging it, Kathryn Dennis trying to prove she's comfortable in the natural skin she's in shared pics from her first-ever bikini photo shoot and actually points out imperfections

* Fashion Verdict -- Zoe Saldana 6/10, Kelsea Ballerini 3/10, Jessica Madsen 7/10, Joy Bauer 2/10

Page 17: Eddie Cibrian is incredibly proud of wife LeAnn Rimes for baring the truth about her battle with psoriasis in a naked photo -- Eddie applauds how LeAnn let it all hang out for a photo shoot to show solidarity with other people with the scaly skin disease who are ashamed and want to hide it -- LeAnn has described the horrors of hiding her painful, crusty rashes, saying onstage she'd wear two pairs of pantyhose or jeans, even in 95-degree heat and underneath her shirt, her whole stomach would be covered in thick scales that would hurt and bleed, and the pandemic worsened her condition because stress is a common trigger for psoriasis, and with so much uncertainty happening, her flare-ups came right back

Page 19: 10 Things You Don't Know About Catherine O'Hara

* Sylvester Stallone may have gone his final round as boxing great Rocky Balboa as his reps reveal the actor has thrown in the towel and won't reprise his iconic role in the upcoming Creed III -- in the Creed spinoffs, retired fighter Rocky trained Adonis "Donnie" Creed, the son of his onetime rival

* Dr. Dre hit back against the abuse claims of estranged wife Nicole Young, slamming her allegations as appalling in recently filed court documents in their ugly $1 billion divorce -- in the docs, Dre charges Nicole hurled the accusations only after realizing their prenup may prevent her from getting half his money, but Nicole insists the rapper forced her to ink the agreement, a charge he also denies

Page 23: Caitlyn Jenner is refining her image ahead of her run for governor in California by reducing her massive breasts to look more conservative -- she wants to downgrade her E cups to a more respectable C cup because she's been worried for a while they are way too big within the context of her body and draw unflattering stares and running for the California governor's office is serious and she wants people to listen and look at her face, not her boobs and the truth is, the implants have been weighing her down and giving her back pain too, so this makes sense in more ways than one -- Caitlyn will be slowly abandoning other cosmetic procedures and she would like to wean herself off filters and Botox too, but that'll be a gradual process that she'll do as time goes by and the big thing here is that she wants to look more natural and relatable for voters

* Nearly half of America is ready to vote Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson into the White House -- 46 percent of voters are ready to rock and roll with the 49-year-old former WWE wrestler as their prez -- in his new sitcom Young Rock, Dwayne plays himself as a future candidate for the Oval Office, but in real life he has admitted he is seriously considering a run for the top job

Page 24: New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo, now facing two separate investigations into sexual harassment charges made by at least eight female staffers, is accused of cheating on longtime love Sandra Lee -- there's obviously a reason Sandra moved to California; she literally could not have moved farther away from Andrew; she's on the edge of the Pacific

Page 30: Grace Kelly died nearly flat broke -- the Hollywood starlet gave up millions to marry Prince Rainier of Monaco, and when she died at the age of 52, her only assets were a cottage in Ireland, owned by her grandfather, and $10,000 -- in 1956, she married into Monaco's royal family after coughing up a $2 million dowry, which is about $20 million today, and walking away from a glittering career -- according to a new documentary, her Hollywood earnings have disappeared as during her film career, Grace's total earnings could have reached $1.5 million, earnings that appear to be entirely missing from her will, but thanks to Grace, Monaco's royal family has cashed in big-time as her son Prince Albert II has an estimated net worth of $i billion and his wife Charlene Wittstock is rumored to be worth $150 million -- most people think of Grace Kelly's story as a fairy tale, going from Hollywood and suddenly being whisked off to a lot of wealth, but what is so poignant is that she had to pay to become a princess

* LeVar Burton may soon be helming a new enterprise: Jeopardy! -- nearly 200,000 people have signed an online petition supporting LeVar to replace the game show's late host Alex Trebek and LeVar supports the idea himself

Page 32: Kirstie Alley had two husbands and once claimed she was crazy about John Travolta, but for decades she secretly carried a torch for a married man: Patrick Swayze -- Kirstie described Patrick as the one that got away and truly believes they would have been together until his 2009 death at age 57 if things worked out differently and she says her love for Patrick began on the set of the 1985 miniseries North and South where she thought he was the most handsome, sexy, kind person she'd ever met, and each day on the set, she began to fall more and more in love but at the time they were married to other people: Patrick had his wife Lisa Niemi and Kirstie was married to Hardy Boys actor Parker Stevenson, her second husband -- Kirstie and Patrick shared a deep emotional affair and confessed their love, but never actually cheated on their spouses and Kirstie said they had an affair of the heart -- Patrick and Kirstie played lovers on the series and you can see the chemistry and at least once a year Kirstie watches the series and reminisces about the time she spent with him -- she says she cried for months after his death and she and his wife Lisa eventually became friends and even today, Kirstie wonders what would have happened if she and Patrick had not been married to other people

Page 36: Sally Struthers reveals she quit Save the Children charity after she was nearly murdered by a gang of bloodthirsty rebels during a trip to visit African orphans -- Sally was a roving ambassador for the charity for 35 years until a terrifying incident in Uganda where she was filming ads with a boy, who'd come from a remote village, when suddenly a roving band of guerrilla warfare guys came out of the bushes and asked the boy where he was from and he named his village, which was far away, and they decided they had kidnapped him, and they were going to shoot all of them and Sally was terrified and figured she was a goner, but a priest with her group told her to slowly walk off while never turning her back on the terrorists and as she walked, he convinced the gunmen to let them alone and at that point, Sally, who had a daughter Samantha from her six-year marriage to shrink William C. Radar thought she's been on so many little airplanes that could have crashed and in so many horrible situations and she's got a child, a real-life child of her own, and she can't do it anymore

* Usher is being accused of stiffing Las Vegas strippers by tipping them with fake money with his moniker and mug on the bills -- the flap exploded with a Twitter post slamming the singer for handing out Usherbucks in $100, $20 and $1 bills at the club Sapphire Las Vegas but club honcho George M. Wilson denies the charge, saying Usher, who stars at Caesars Palace stating in July, was a true gentleman and great guest and he and his crew converted thousands of real dollars to tip the girls dancing on the stage and left a generous tip for staff and apparently someone in his team left some Usher dollars on the floor to promote his Vegas residency and that is where it seems the confusion came in

Page 40: Val Kilmer is shooting for more than a career comeback after bouncing back from throat cancer; he is also looking for love -- Val admits he doesn't sound like he used to following a tracheotomy, but he insists he feels a lot better than he sounds but his voice is a raspy, grating sound, and he's forced to eat through a feeding tube, but he feels that shouldn't matter with the right woman -- the actor, who is slated to appear in the upcoming Top Gun: Maverick, is pumped up about working again, but it's dawned on him that he's missing one other thing, love, and the single star feels more energy now than ever before and there are things he'd like to do with a partner, like travel more -- Val regrets some of the things he did in the past and he was difficult and selfish, but his whole cancer ordeal has made him a better man and more open and giving but it's been a long, long time since he had a girlfriend, let alone even kissed a woman, but with the support and encouragement of his kids and friends, he's ready to put himself out there

* Fans are saying Christopher Meloni has one of the most remarkable rears on TV after a photo surfaced showcasing his awe-inspiring ass-ets -- a shot of the Law & Order: Organized Crime star in skintight jeans sparked a Twitter-storm where fans of his fanny let loose about his sculpted caboose

Page 44: Straight Talk -- Holly Madison is blabbing about her eight years as Hugh Hefner's No. 1 squeeze in the Playboy Mansion, and, if he were still alive, the king of skin mags would hate that he pretty much comes off as a dirty old lech

Page 45: Paula Abdul was a nervous wreck during her American Idol comeback, but she was not so jittery she couldn't brand her former co-judge Simon Cowell an STD -- special guest Randy Jackson and Simon previously teamed with Paula in the 2000s to make the talent show the biggest hit on TV, and Paula temporarily resumed her role after Luke Bryan tested positive for COVID-19, but when Randy told Paula seeing her on set seems like old times, she blurted "We're just missing the STD," and the remark caught host Ryan Seacrest off-guard as he held a computer device linking Paula and Randy, who was not physically present and Ryan exclaimed, "The what?!" and at that point Paula joked she meant it was an abbreviation for Super Talented, Debonair not sexually transmitted disease -- Paula also referred to Simon, who's only three years her senior, as a grandfather and while Paula seemed in the swing of things, joining the current Idol panel of Katy Perry and Lionel Richie, she was reportedly a bundle of nerves backstage before her comeback show and it was like she'd never done it before, and her pals couldn't believe it; they told her she had more experiencing judging than anyone out there

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memento-morri-writes · 2 years

Text

Some Friendly Advice

Kris beats the shit out of a practice dummy, and gets some advice from a Real Adult. Rather angsty.

ATQH Content Masterpost | Referenced Scene

Wordcount: 1,280

Trigger Warnings: Swords (?)

Taglist: @enchanted-lightning-aes @ink-fireplace-coffee @inkingfireplace @rose-bookblood @italiangothicwriteblr

Kris woke slowly, becoming aware of the sunlight streaming in through the window. His head throbbed, but he only vaguely remembered why. Carefully, he sat up, looking at the clock. It was after noon. He swore quietly. Getting to his feet, Kris looked around the room. His eyes landed on a dark stain running down the wall and the events of the previous night came rushing back. Closing his eyes, he could see Fallon in front of him, eyes glistening with tears as she scolded him. He’d done it now. If Fallon wasn’t going to send him home before, she certainly was now. After all, it wouldn’t do for the Queen to marry the laughingstock of Oryn. He swore again. His stomach growled, reminding him that it had been hours since his last meal. If he was going home, he might as well get one more meal beforehand. After changing out of his wine-stained clothes, Kristopher opened the door to his room and was met with the back of a guardsman. The guard turned around, seemingly surprised to see the Prince upright. Probably expected to have to drag me out of bed later, Kris thought. “Is there a reason you’re blocking my way?” He asked, voice flat.

“Your Highness!” The guard exclaimed. “I am under orders not to let you out until you are presentable.” Of course, Kristopher thought. No one wants to be embarrassed by one of their guests. Better to keep them out of sight. Straightening his spine slightly, he said aloud. “Well, I’m not naked, am I?” “N-no.” The guard stepped aside, allowing the Prince to pass. As he walked down the hall, Kristopher realized that this whole routine felt oddly familiar, and not in a pleasant way. Upon reaching the dining hall, he was relieved to find it empty. He ate quickly, eager to be gone before someone came along. After eating, he meandered around the Palace. He needed to think, but wandering aimlessly wasn’t helping. He needed a distraction, but one that would clear his mind rather than impair it. After a moment’s thought, he set off towards the garrison. The training yard in front of the building was empty of observers, much to Kristopher’s relief. He had never thought of how he would explain his presence if someone asked. However, there was one issue. Suitors had not been allowed to bring any weapons to the Palace. He glanced around, hoping that some foolish guardsman had left his sword behind. He was lucky. After making a lap around the training yard, he located an old sword left in the grass. Though it was showing its age, it was of good quality and would serve its purpose. Hefting the sword in his hand, he faced the training dummy in the corner of the yard. Its body consisted of a burlap sack, likely filled with sand, with two protruding sticks serving as arms. He lifted the sword and swung, slicing a mark across the dummy’s chest. Kristopher hacked at the dummy over and over again, elegant strikes turning into a chaotic flurry of blows. Not exactly top-tier fencing, but it felt good. It had been months since he’d last held a sword, and years since he had been so chaotic with his strikes. Lately he’d found other ways to ease his frustrations. And those other ways were exactly what had gotten him into trouble now. With every blow he pictured Fallon’s expression the night before, heard her words in his head. As he stuck, the sand began to emerge from various cuts in the sack that held the dummy together. Soon its body had been mostly eviscerated. With one final swing he decapitated it. He stood there, breathing heavily, sword still held firmly in his grip. “It appears we are due for some new training equipment.” Kristopher whirled around to find Captain Blackthorne standing at the gate of the training yard. His chest tightened. Technically the suitors weren’t allowed to have weapons on them at any time. “My apologies,” he said hurriedly. “I was merely…” he trailed off. How was he supposed to explain all this? The Captain merely laughed. “No need to apologize. If I got angry every time someone beat up one of those things out of frustration, I’d be angry every other day. And that’s too much effort.” Kristopher’s face flushed with embarrassment. “I’ll get out of your way now,” he said, setting the sword aside and heading for the gate. “Actually, I was looking for you in particular.” Kristopher froze, heart sinking. Of course. He was going home. His thoughts must have been plain on his face, because Captain Blackthorne continued. “You’re not in any trouble. I wanted to offer some,” He paused. “Words of advice.” “Advice?” Kristopher asked, trying to steady the tremble in his voice. He wasn’t sure what the older man was up to, but there had to be a better reason for tracking Kris down beyond offering advice. Blackthorne nodded. “Don’t take your anger out on yourself. Or anyone else for that matter. It’s not fair to you or her. And knowing Her Majesty, she’s likely taking it out on herself already.” Kristopher blinked in surprise. Clearly word had spread of the previous night’s events. “It’s not her fault,” he said suddenly. The words bubbled to the surface, tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. “I acted like an ass. She would be well within her right to send me home, and I wouldn’t stop her.” He gulped. “But I don’t want to leave.” It was true. He couldn’t go back to Oryn after this. And more than that, he didn’t want to leave Fallon. He blinked at the realization. Captain Blackthorne nodded. “I’m well aware of that, though I’m not certain Her Majesty is so eager to send you packing.” “Why wouldn’t she? I wasn’t very kind,” Kristopher said bitterly. “That’s the other piece of advice,” The Captain said, not unkindly. “If you regret hurting someone, tell them so.” “I’m not sure she’ll want to listen,” Kristopher said, looking down at his feet. “I think she will.” Kris looked up quickly, and Blackthorne met his gaze with a smile. “Good luck, Kristopher.” He walked to the gate but paused, looking back. “And by the way. You are welcome to come and spar with my men whenever you wish. I’m sure one of two of them would be eager for a chance against the best swordsman in Oryn.” Kristopher’s eyes narrowed, certain the Captain was mocking him. But the man merely smiled warmly before turning and walking away. Perhaps he was genuine after all. Kris stood there for a moment longer, starting after the Captain. Once he was certain the man was gone, he walked to the gate and looked around the corner. The Captain was nowhere in sight. Slowly, he swung the gate open and set off towards the Palace, in desperate need for a bath. As he passed Fallon’s rooms, Kris wondered for a moment what she was up to. Whatever it is, she certainly smells better, he thought. Once inside his rooms, he stripped off his sweat-soaked clothes and drew a bath, steam filling the room. Once the water was warm enough, he stepped in, sinking gladly into the steaming water. As the sweat and grime of the past 18 hours washed away, Kris pondered Blackthorne’s words. Apologize — it seemed simple enough. But how the hell were you supposed to phrase it? How did you say ‘I’m sorry for getting drunk, embarrassing you and overall being an ass’? How did you say that to someone like Fallon?

#writeblr #my writing #wip: atqh #atqh: scenes #*#atqh: edited version #atqh: Kris #atqh: Captain Blackthorne #poor Kris. He really thinks Fallon is just going to send him home.#and he has NO IDEA how to react to a Real Adult talking to him #especially not a Read Adult who's not screaming at him.#:'(

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songfell-ut · 5 years

Text

Chapter 2, bc this is happening

Yo. I’m charging ahead on this project because I’m a terrible mother and my kid is getting a lot of (educational) screen time during the day while my husband works from home and I get this written. It remains based on this comic by @lostmypotatoes. It’s so long that I split off the end and it’s mutating into Chapter 3. Lots of talking, with Stuff to come of it very soon, no worries.

Now featuring a cut! Thanks (what’s an easy nickname for you? “Lost”? “‘Tatoes?”) for the tip on how to very easily do that.

Lastly, I have login shenanigans to deal with, and have been chatting with Lost (?) using @ikustioa on my phone, so I suppose that’s my blogging/personal handle now. Anyway, here we go:

Three nights later, Sans woke with a jerk. Someone in the next room was sobbing. It wasn't a memory or nightmare, he realized a moment later, and it wasn't the priestess; it was a small child, crying so hard that it could barely breathe. Steeling himself, the boss monster slid out of bed and listened intently.

He heard a woman whisper something, and the child's sobs quieted as a familiar sound came through the door. It was the same humming that had de-powered his blaster the other day, though not the same tune. The skeleton took a moment to be sure that the glow in his eyes was out, then cracked the bedroom door open.

Frisk was kneeling, bare-headed, with her arms around a little boy of perhaps eight or nine years. In the light of one lamp on the worktable, Sans saw a dark patch of blood in the child's hair. Frisk glanced at the skeleton, giving him a wan smile, still humming. Sans closed the door enough that the child wouldn't see him.

The priestess waited till the boy had calmed down to the occasional sniffle, then leaned back and reached for something on the table. "I've got a treat for you," she said cheerfully. "Do you like peppermint?"

The child thought it over, and nodded.

"Wonderful, because that's exactly what this is. You'll feel better in no time." She held out a glass bottle. "You can have three big swallows, but only three, all right?"

Well played, Sans thought, framing it as something he got to have, not something he had to take. Sure enough, the little boy gulped it right down, smacking his lips as the young woman retrieved the bottle. "Good. Can you do something very important for me?" she asked. Nod, nod. "Can you lie down and count to one hundred? That'll make the magic work better. Let's go to my office."

The child went with her quite willingly. After a few minutes, the High Priestess re-emerged into Sans' field of vision. Her pleasant expression was gone, replaced with one that actually made him feel a little sorry for whoever had pissed her off. Then he remembered the blood on the kid's head. "Anybody you want me ta kill?" he asked through the door.

"Don't tempt me." Frisk jerked a sheet of paper from a stack on the desk, grabbed a pen, and began writing rapidly.

Sans checked the time. "God damn, what's that kid doing awake at two in the morning?"

"Being beaten." The pen scratched viciously across the page.

He decided to shut up. Frisk soon finished the message, blew the ink dry and folded the paper in thirds, then sealed it and marched to the outer door, where she woke up the guard on duty. Sans heard her reaming the guy about doing his job properly, serving a writ, and not letting a guy out of the castle. She came back in, only to return to the office.

This seemed to be typical for her, as far as Sans could tell, though it usually wasn't this dramatic or this late at night. If she wasn't off at church or giving him lessons, she was talking to someone who needed help and apparently couldn't get it elsewhere. He had yet to see her do something for fun, or sleep more than five hours at a time.

Meanwhile, his daily routine had been surprisingly low-key. The first day, after being flagrantly mind-controlled into agreeing to stay, he'd eaten some more, then slept for another dreamless twenty-four hours. The next morning, she'd let him have another pile of food, then started his apprenticeship by showing him the most common ingredients for potions and how to identify them by sight, as he couldn't smell and didn't have much sense of touch. Yesterday had been a review, emphasizing that a mistake could literally kill someone, and she'd given him a book of basic recipes, asking him to make a list of any ingredients he found that she hadn't already introduced.

It was kind of annoying to have homework, and he was starting to get cabin fever, but otherwise, the whole experience hadn't been too terrible. He was relieved and disappointed that she kept the veil on almost all the time, which reduced the distraction somewhat, though she persisted in having a fantastic shape, and he was really starting to enjoy the sound of her voice. When he could focus enough to ask questions, she was patient and encouraging, and let him use all the paper he wanted to write down the answers. She was obviously pleased that he cared enough to take notes, though not in a smug or irritating way; it just made her happy, and that made him...not unhappy.

It was also still novel to talk to a human who wasn't afraid of him. He hadn't seen many humans up here besides the little boy, and figured they were forbidden to come into her rooms unless they desperately needed help, or could sneak past a sleeping guard. That was fine with Sans, though he'd overheard one cleaning lady being so persistent that he really wanted to come out of the bedroom and tell her to piss off. Unsurprisingly, Frisk had asked him to not do that.

There were only a few real mysteries so far. One was a pile of letters she'd brought in on the second day and tossed into a basket of also-unopened envelopes standing by the roaring fireplace in her workshop. He'd caught her looking at the basket a couple of times, as if debating whether to burn them all, but she never did it, or opened any in front of him.

The biggest question was how she knew he could teleport, and the nature of his blue magic, even if was getting more red than blue these days. He had unthinkingly used the latter to grab a couple things yesterday, and his magic had almost immediately died out. He didn't know exactly how she was doing it, but her barriers weren't just blocking him in: they kept his power so muted that he couldn't have summoned a single bone. It seemed that he'd be allowed to use some magic to make the actual potions, and that was it.

Well, there was time to worry about that later. The injured kid had made him think of Kris again, which made him think of the book passage Frisk had quoted at him. He'd have to ask if she...wait, no, he didn't have to ask. She'd given him carte blanche to read anything he found in her bedroom or workshop. Sans tapped the nearest witchlight on, noting that it was much weaker than the ones Underground, and started perusing the shelves.

Fifteen minutes later, Frisk knocked on the door, waiting for him to grunt acknowledgement before she came in. "I'm sorry for waking you," she said, dropping into her chair with a deep sigh. "There's going to be hell to pay in the morning."

She did look like hell, with bags under her eyes and a smear of blood on her cheek. Sans put the book down and tapped his own face, and she got the hint, rubbing her cheek with the back of her hand. "Ugh. That poor child." She sighed again, curling up and resting her head on the arm of the chair. "I'll wash up in a minute."

"Didn't you just get back from a thing?" he asked, wondering if she was always this cavalier about bodily fluids.

"Yes. His Holiness decided we needed more midnight services, and I have to be there every other night." She rubbed her eyes. "Flynn must have followed me back here. People aren't supposed to know where I live, but word is spreading. At this rate, I'll have to move again."

Sans drummed his fingertips on the bedpost. She'd found an oversized stool to use in the workshop, but there were no armchairs big enough for him, so he spent most of his leisure time on the bed. "Bein' High Priestess sucks. How long ya been at it?"

"Three years. The last Thea was assassinated, and they had to find a replacement as fast as possible. Out of all the minor priestesses available, I was the only one who passed all the tests. It's been...instructive."

"Hm." That didn't surprise him. A human strong enough to block a boss monster's focused attack had to be pretty rare. "How old are ya, anyway?" he asked, suddenly curious.

Her eyes shut. "Twenty-two. I was educated in a convent, ordained at sixeen, High Priestess at nineteen." A mighty yawn was partly hidden in her arm. "Lucky me."

Sans didn't know much about humans, but he was pretty sure that was young as hell for so much responsibility. The problem was that she was good enough to handle it, which meant they'd pile on more and more until she went nuts. "Nah, it sucks ta be you. Any way you can get out of it?"

"Well," she mumbled, eyes still closed, "I can die, or marry, or go back to the convent and become the Mother Superior, which would also be until I die." Frisk yawned again. "The Feast of All Saints is next week. That's when the last High Priestess was murdered."

Something prickled up Sans' spine. "You spend all yer time doin' church stuff, kissing babies and healin' puppies or whatever. Why the hell would anyone wanna kill you?"

"I meant it when I said I have influence in the Church and at court. I don't hate monsters, which is inconvenient for several people, and I'm not quiet about it, which is extremely inconvenient for many more of them. Besides, my natural father is very wealthy, and his other childr—"

"'Natural' father?" he queried. "What, do some humans have unnatural kids?"

Her eyes opened. She looked lovely in the soft light, but troubled and sad, so much that he wished he hadn't asked. "I'm illegitimate. My father never married my mother, and our life was...bad. Very hard, for a very long time." The priestess rubbed her fingertips together, as if seeing more dried blood. "He was a very busy man, but he only has one legitimate heir. After his second wife died, he started tracking down his children born out of wedlock, and it's an open secret that he'll leave each of us a large amount after he passes."

"And whoever's left gets a bigger piece of the pie?" Sans guessed.

"Exactly. As far as I know, there were fourteen or fifteen of us, but magic runs in his side of the family, and most of his children became sorcerers. Almost all of my half-brothers have been killed fighting monsters. Two of my half-sisters blew up in an experiment that went wrong. There are only six of us left, including the—his heir."

Sans' eyes narrowed. "What is it with humans an' explodin' stuff by accident?"

He couldn't read the look on her face. "If we knew the answer to that, history would have taken a much better course."

Of course, that made him think of Kris again. It seemed pretty inevitable, so he might as well ask... "I don't s'pose," he mumbled, "there's a record of the humans who went t'the Underground on that last trip? Maybe what happened to 'em after they got back?"

Frisk raised her head a little. "That depends. We know exactly which nobles, sorcerers, and other dignitaries attended. Do you mean one of them?"

"Nah, this was a servant, I think. Prob'ly. I dunno." The skeleton felt his eyes lighting up again. "He was only 4 or 5. S'comin' up on thirteen years ago, so he'd'a grown up by now."

The priestess frowned. "No one that young was in attendance, so far as I know, and I've read every account that I could find. May I ask why you want to know?"

"Nah." Sans flexed his hand around the bedpost. "Forget it."

Frisk sighed, carving a design into the plush chair with her thumbnail. "Well, I'm afraid the answer is no. There's no record of the servants who came along, except the ones who were killed, and that didn't include any children. You'd have to check with each of the—" She sat up. "Wait. I know someone who was there—my mother. Do you want me to ask her?"

"Hell yes, I do!" Sans' hand tightened, splintering the bedpost. He guiltily released it. "Did she talk much about it? What all did she tell ya? Can I ask 'er a coupla things?"

The priestess laughed, quieting him with a wave of her hand. "Sans, please! She's been very sick recently, and I don't want to excite her too much. I will ask her anything you need to know, thank you. And yes, she talked about it to anyone who'd listen. She's the one who told me all about monsters, and what you're actually like."

Sans sat forward, but she forestalled more questions with another gesture. "First, her name is Rosa. Did you ever meet her?"

It did sound familiar. "I think so. Little, blonde, wore her hair up?"

"That's her. She would've been in charge of any children they brought along, but she never mentioned any of them to me." Frisk tapped her finger on the chair arm. "She did say there were things she wasn't allowed to talk about. She worked for the Duke as a nurse, and she would never disobey him."

He wondered for a moment if that meant the guy was Frisk's father, but was too excited to dwell on it. "What'd she say about us?" he asked curiously.

Frisk hesitated. "Well...she didn't talk very much with individual monsters, but she said the Queen was very kind and made sure to tell each of the humans how glad she was to have them visit. The King was also very courteous. He tried his best not to frighten anyone, and he thought it was rude that the servants weren't allowed to eat with the nobles."

Sans' foot started tapping. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he reluctantly stopped. "Who else?" he demanded.

The next moment, they both heard the office door open into the workshop. "Miss?" came a plaintive voice.

Frisk was at the bedroom door in an instant. "What is it, Flynn?" She closed the door most of the way.

Damn it all to hell. Sans grumpily listened to the child explain that he'd scratched his head and sorry, there was blood on the couch now. Frisk explained that wounds got itchy as they healed, and to please not scratch it, and that it would be much better to wipe his hands on the towel she'd put down than on the furniture. Then he had to be cleaned up again and a bigger bandage applied, and someone was sent for to take the boy somewhere he could sleep safely.

A thought stabbed at him as he listened to the proceedings: that was how she knew he could teleport and zip things around without touching them. King Asgore had insisted the monsters show off their powers in various amusing ways so that the humans would be less afraid of their magic. Sans thought it was a bad idea at the time, and look what came of it!

Frisk eventually came back to the bedroom, drying her hands on her skirt. "Let's cut t'the chase," Sans said quietly as she sat down. "Did she tell ya about any skeletons?"

"Yes." Frisk folded her hands and looked straight at him. "Two brothers, Sans and Papyrus."

Sans laced his fingers together to avoid accidentally destroying anything else. "And...?"

"She liked them very much," Frisk said calmly, "especially Papyrus. Sans was friendly, but she said he watched their every move, and it made them nervous." The priestess smoothed her skirt over her knees. "Papyrus was a joy to be around. He was very full of himself, but there wasn't a mean bone in his body, and he considered it his duty to welcome the humans as much as possible. My mother talked about him more than any other monster." She coughed. "Apparently, his spaghetti was terrible."

"...Sounds about right."

Frisk looked at him sharply. "I wanted to ask you about that, but...are you all right?"

Sans couldn't answer. He'd avoided thinking too much about home, especially the fact that he'd already been gone for a week when he got caught. It'd been easy to tell himself that he could always bust out of here if he needed to, or that the lady would let him send a message or even go have a quick visit before coming back here, but...

"Are you Papyrus' brother?" Frisk asked.

"Yeah," he ground out.

The priestess shook her head. "I don't understand. R—Mother said that Sans was shorter than any of the humans who came to the Underground, and the only boss monsters mentioned in the official histories are Asgore and Toriel. Can you tell me what happened? I wasn't sure if you were the same skeleton, you seem so diff—"

"A lot of shit happened, that's what." Sans lurched to his feet, and she had to tip her head back to look up at him. His sockets were glowing again. "Ya know what? I'm tired, an' you look like crap. Time for night-night." He jerked the door open, rattling the hinges. "Good luck cleanin' up. Blood's a bitch to get out. Trust me, I know."

She rose quietly, folding her hands in the style he recognized from the very first time he'd seen her. "All right, then. Good night, Sans," she said, and walked past him, out of the room.

He didn't slam the doors shut behind her, but it was pretty close.

Once she had control of herself again, Frisk wiped her eyes and resumed scrubbing the couch. She kept glancing underneath it, and as she threw yet another towel into the laundry basket, she decided, To hell with it, and pulled the couch aside. A nearly invisible seam in the floor showed where a board could be pried up to access her hidden safe. There was no lid, no lock, and no key, just a solid golden film that vanished when she pressed her thumb into its center.

The High Priestess surveyed the contents: several tight-folded papers, a bag of high-value dinar, a sack of silver ingots, a few pieces of jewelry, and a small box. She selected the box and removed its rosewood lid to reveal a tiny glass orb, something swirling around on its surface like smoke. She stared at it for so long that her knees began aching, but she didn't notice. Her vision blurred again, and she jammed the lid back on the little box, shoving everything back into the safe, re-sealing it, thumping the floorboard into place and pushing the couch back. Not today, she told herself fiercely. She didn't care what Sans said or how he acted. It couldn't be worth it. Nothing could!

The next day, after a late breakfast, Frisk quizzed him on the differences between various herbs and powdered animal bits and their uses; they looked over the list he'd made of new ingredients, going through the recipes and identifying how each item worked in each potion. That was the first time she demonstrated how to mix and infuse something, and the first time she warned him, "You have to be careful how you feel when you make potions. Intent is always important when you're using magic—you fully intend to cause damage, and I fully intend to protect, which is why we're good at what we do, yes?"

He shrugged philosophically, and she half-smiled. "Well," she continued, "it's similar when you're making something for someone else to take. If you're in a foul mood and you want to cause harm, or you simply don't want the person to get better, you might as well be concocting poison, or giving them water. Of course, your feelings don't matter if you're just throwing herbs into a pot, but these work as well as they do because you're putting a tiny bit of yourself into it. You have to make sure that it's a good bit."

"Pretty sure all my bits are bad by now," Sans remarked. "How's about I make some poison instead?"

Frisk shook her head, leaning over the table. "No one is all bad, Sans. Here." She took the glass stirrer out of the miniature cauldron bubbling away in the middle of their workspace. "I'll infuse it now. Watch."

He did observe closely as she bent forward, though probably not the way she'd intended; he just made sure he was looking at the potion when she glanced up at him. "Try thinking of someone you care for, and imagine it's for them." She opened her hand over the cauldron and, to his surprise, let out a low whistle, piercingly sweet.

A mote of light drifted from her palm and settled into the mixture. It seemed to sparkle for a moment, then resumed being a potion. When he concentrated, though, he could feel a little tingle of magic in it. "I won't ask you to try it till you have better control of your emotions," she said. "Right now, you're so angry that I don't know what would happen."

A different note had crept into her voice. Sans shifted his bony weight on the stool. "S'not like I can help it."

"Perhaps," she said. "You probably don't even notice it anymore. It's become a part of you, through whatever stuff has happened since the humans left the Underground. And before you ask, my mother is ill again. We can't speak with her until she's better."

There it was; he'd wondered if she was going to pretend he'd never snapped at her. "Well, you can only ask me so many personal questions before I get touchy, lady. Frisk." He tapped the worktable a couple of times. "Look, I know ya have a lot on yer plate, an' havin' to deal with me isn't much help. I just want t'know...is there any way to tell the others I'm not dead or somethin'? My brother's gotta be out of his mind by now, and I don' want someone comin' after me and gettin' caught."

Frisk shook her head, and his SOUL sank to the floor. "I'm sorry, Sans, but that's out of the question," she said, soft but firm. "Our King has forbidden any humans from coming within a day's walk of the entrance to the Underground, and let's be very honest—what would happen if a human came up to you out of nowhere and said they had an important message to give the monsters?"

Sans' jaw clenched so hard that the priestess put her hand out, not quite touching his arm. "Sans, please. If there was any way to—"

"Forget it, okay? Just...never mind." The skeleton glared at the windows facing out from the workroom. Like everything else in this damn place, they were too small for him to fit more than his head through. He'd gone through this in his own mind a dozen times: even if he could break through the wood and stone, he could sense the barrier set behind the wall to block his shortcuts. The one along the outside wall was heavier than the ones in the bedroom, which were permeable, purely there to track his movements. It was debatable whether this one could be physically broken with...something, but the moment he tried, she would know he was trying and stop him with a stronger barrier.

Hmm. What if...what if he waited till she wasn't here and couldn't get back in time to stop him? If he broke through when she was distracted, and far enough away – say, doing her church stuff in the middle of the night – then there wouldn't be much she could do. He could escape and decide later whether he wanted to come back or—

Wait. Come back? What the hell was he thinking? Why would he choose to be locked up by any human? No matter how pretty, and gutsy, and sweet and nice-voiced and...

Crap.

Anyway. He wouldn't come back. He'd have to be sure to grab his notes and a few books for Alphys; Frisk could always get more copies. He already had plenty to report to King Asgore, though he felt a little uneasy about letting ol' Gorey know that the most powerful barrier-making human was a determined sorceress whose SOUL could probably make you invincible. Actually, he felt a lot uneasy. Maybe he'd keep that to himself for now.

Too bad he couldn't bring her with him...

"...ans. Sans?" Frisk was touching his radius. She'd lifted her veil, large brown eyes turned up to his. "Are you all right?"

Sans studied her for a long moment, reflecting that Papyrus had always wanted a pet. The idea was more appealing than he'd have liked to admit; he had to dismiss it with a shake of his head, and shake it again to get it loose. "'m fine, kid. Remind me what this stuff was for?" After all, he thought darkly, he'd always told Pap no. Pets were too much trouble, especially if you got attached to them. Besides, what would they feed her?

A knock on the outer door startled them both. Before Frisk could respond, the door opened, and in strode a tall, thin man in dark robes, holding a box under his arm. "High Priestess. Honored guest," the man said in a cool, whispery voice, giving them a short bow.

"Dr. Serif? This is a surprise," the High Priestess responded, replacing the veil as she stood up. "I wasn't expecting you so early. Sans, this is Dr. Serif, the royal sorcerer. Doctor, please meet Sans the skeleton."

The man regarded Sans with mild curiosity. "I am very pleased to see you again, Sans the skeleton. Has Her Eminence been treating you well?"

"Uh...yeah," said Sans, nonplussed. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

The royal sorcerer bowed again. He was unnervingly pale, the effect enhanced by dark eyes and long black hair framing his face. "I helped transport you from your cell to this room."

"It took magic," Frisk said helpfully.

He'd figured as much; magic was the only way humans could do any damn thing. The boss monster looked at the box under the doctor's arm, which had a strange feel to it. He couldn't tell what it was, but he knew he didn't like it.

"This is for you, as we discussed, Your Eminence," the man said smoothly. "I will leave it in your office."

Frisk looked so uncomfortable that Sans glanced at the sorcerer, but nothing was visibly wrong. The man ignored them both, striding past the table and opening the door to her office. They heard rustling, and the doors closing as he stepped back into the workroom. "That will be all. Good day, my lady, Sans." With another bow, the doctor turned and left.

"Weirdo," said the ten-foot skeleton. He found he didn't want to look away from the door lest the guy come back and catch him unawares. He hadn't been threatening, but something about him was very off.

"He's...unique." Frisk sat down again. "Now, this infusion is almost ready. We'll leave it at room temperature for another ten minutes or so before we stir it again. In the meantime, you can add two drops of peppermint oil, mint, orange or lemon extract..."

The rest of the day passed without major incident. Frisk had to stop in the middle of concocting a burn salve and leave Sans to finish it, though she cautioned him not to infuse it yet. She rather envied him; she had to walk to the other side of the castle to go over her parish's monthly accounts, balancing foot-long columns of tiny numbers to check that tithes and alms had come in and gone out properly. They never quite did, though it had gotten better in the past year, as she had made it increasingly clear that she was not interested in stealing from the poor or turning a blind eye to it, even for a few hundred extra dinar in her own column.

The attempts at bribery were particularly insulting because she didn't need it. The realm's High Priestess was entitled to half a percent of the Church's total monthly income, and through the magic of frugality and compound interest, her personal fortune had grown to the point where she didn't want to use any of it. Life was so strange; as a small child, she had only eaten once every couple of days, and now she could decide not to buy her own estate and maintain a huge staff for it.

She was starting to wonder, though, about a rumor she'd heard regarding several hundred acres of land that would supposedly be up for sale in the next few months. They were principally wheat and barley fields, no more than two days' walk from the Underground's main entrance. That was food for thought, indeed.

Frisk eventually finished and stopped by the kitchens on her way back to her room. Sans was still wary of what he ate, and she took care to have more than one damned fork now when she tasted his food for him. She wasn't worried for herself: if she didn't have time to eat in the kitchen, she routinely paid several of the staff a bit extra to make sure that everything they brought her had come straight from the pot or the pan, with no chance for someone to add any surprises.

That had felt hypocritical at first, but she'd soon realized that she couldn't rely on people's consciences or sense of duty to keep her safe. Many, like the guard captain, were loyal for loyalty's sake, but many more of them needed external motivation, and she was helping the cooks and servers support their families. And she wasn't literally stealing from orphans to do it!

An overstuffed basket sat outside her chambers, and the guard hastened to open the door and push it inside for her. Frisk carried the tray to the table, setting it by Sans' elbow as he compared nearly identical recipes in two separate books. Then she dragged the laundry basket over, pulling a sail-like garment out end over end. "Here you are," she said around an armful of fabric.

The skeleton looked up, scowling at the interruption. "Wha?"

"This is for you." Frisk tried to hold up an enormous shirt, then an enormous set of trousers. "I had them measure your clothes when we washed them for you. They made you another set."

Sans slowly got up and took the shirt from her, holding it against himself. It was sturdy linen, almost as thick as the canvas shirt he wore now and much softer. The skeleton turned it this way and that, poking the material. "What's this for?"

Pause. "It's a shirt," said Frisk. "It goes on the top half of your body. Humans need it for protection against the elements, and modesty, but for you, it's principally so that you have a shirt on."

He acknowledged her smartassery with a respectful nod. "I mean, wasn't this a pain to make? I hope nobody expects me t'pay fer this. Not my fault if what I got on ain't pretty enough for ya."

"Oh, it was. Getting something that size made up so quickly cost me more than I paid for all the clothes I've had this year combined. But you're not a slave, you're my apprentice. That means you're working for me, and I'm keeping track of your wages. It'll take a while to pay this off—" Frisk stuck her arm through one of the trouser legs, flapping it to shake it out. "—but I think you'll manage it before you leave."

Sans had another odd expression. "Yer payin' me for the stuff I make? I thought apprentices were the ones payin' to learn."

"I consider the knowledge you'll bring back to the Underground to be your apprenticeship fee, and as this arrangement wasn't your idea in the first place, we're bending the rules," she said patiently. "I see you've made three sets of burn salve, two of which look useable, and you're almost done with a cough elixir. Fair market value for those is about ten dinar total, so minus the infusion I'll do for you, you've earned about seven already."

"Hm." He scratched the side of his head. "What am I payin' you for my food?"

Frisk laughed, shaking out the other leg. "The pleasure of your company." At his blank stare, she shook her head and uncovered the tray. "No one charges their apprentice for room and board, Sans." The priestess put down the trousers, picked up the fork and leaned in for a bite of baked fish.

The skeleton pulled the tray away, making her stab the table instead. "If I owe ya money, you're definitely not gonna poison me," he pointed out, and began shoveling it in.

"You're right," Frisk said gravely, trying and failing to hide her grin. "I'm glad you've had time to mullet over."

Sans pounded the table with his free fist, rattling the glass vials. "Might as well, just for the halibut. Right?"

She covered her mouth with the back of her hand. "That was weak. Think of a better one and let minnow," she said around it.

"You're right," he said, and waited for her to take a bite before he added, "We really need to scale back."

They had to stop laughing long enough to eat. By the time dinner was over and Frisk had carried the dishes out, both were relaxed enough to be sleepy. "Dunno why I keep wantin' to go t'bed, all I've done is read 'n catnap," mumbled Sans, trudging into the bedroom and flopping onto the mattress. "'m not even usin' my damn magic."

"You're eating human food, so your body is getting more nutrition and working harder to process it," Frisk pointed out, settling into her chair. "Mother said the humans all had to eat more to stop being hungry Underground." She tried not to burp out loud. "Besides, you're probably still recovering from the energy you spent being captured and then trying to kill me. Thrice."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that." The skeleton stretched all the phalanges of his toes, flexing them in turn. "Probably won't do it again," he added truthfully.

"Thank you." Frisk also stretched her legs out, Sans noticing how absurdly tiny her feet were as she got up from her chair with the recipe book. She reached down to dog-ear the page they were on. "Well, I—"

He whisked the book out of her hand and flipped it open to smooth the page out. "Use a bookmark, woman! What are ya, some kinda barbarian?"

"It's an old book! They're all creased anyway," she argued, trying to take it back. He held it over his head, roughly a mile out of reach. "All right, then, fine," she said with a smirk. "I'm going to take a bath. Read through and find five more ingredients to discuss when I get back." She shut the door on quiet skeletal griping, smiling to herself.

The next day passed in a similar fashion, at least outwardly. Frisk took careful note of everything Sans made, ignoring his suggestion to dock him the price of the ingredients when he screwed up; luckily, he was catching on fast, even if she wouldn't let him infuse anything yet. She also wouldn't tell him how much his new clothing had cost, saying only that she'd let him know when he broke even. What really got his attention was her adding, "If you make enough money, we'll send a few bushels of wheat back with you. No one can be upset that you were gone for so long if you come bearing gifts, can they?"

Sans was glad he didn't have facial muscles or anything similar to betray his inner turmoil. He'd had a lot of second thoughts last night about bashing his way out of here, due in small part to the new outfit and the possibility of bringing food to the Underground, but mostly because she was working her brain-magic on him again, being attractive and kind and easy to talk to like the terrible, sadistic person she was...not. She was not remotely terrible or sadistic, and that was the problem. He still didn't understand it, or how it was getting worse so much quicker than he'd anticipated. He just wanted to get away before she entangled him any further.

Then he'd started thinking of Snowdin right before he fell asleep, and for the first time since he'd been captured, he had dreamed of home. He dreamed their house was cold and dark, with no one upstairs and a single light on in the kitchen. A female form was silhouetted in the kitchen doorway, hands on hips, facing something slumped over the side of the couch. "C'mon, Pap. He's probably just out on another hunting trip," she argued.

"...IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME FEEL BETTER?" The thin, nasal voice hurt Sans' SOUL, and not just because he'd desperately wanted to hear it again. This wasn't his boisterous, indomitable, recklessly cheerful brother; this was a small, heartsick Papyrus, one Sans hadn't seen or heard in a long, long time. The last time it happened, at least Sans had been there for him. Now Sans was gone, too.

"Hunting animals, Papyrus! He's hunting animals. Not humans." The woman thumped the wall for emphasis, knocking little bits of plaster from the ceiling. Dammit, Sans had told her to quit doing that. "That's gotta be it. We don't eat humans, and he knows how bad the food situation is, right? So..."

"I DON'T CARE WHAT HE'S DOING. ...WELL. NOT MUCH." The skeleton heaved a sigh, raising his face from the couch cushion. "...UNDYNE, I...I CAN'T REACH HIM. IF HE'S ALL RIGHT, WHERE IS HE?"

And then something had seeped out of the darkness and gently enclosed Sans' mind, blotting out the dream like a sponge on spilled water. He had woken up knowing that it wasn't a dream, and was instantly enraged—he'd been so grateful that the nightmares had stopped, and too damn stupid to figure out that she'd set a barrier up against external influences, including dreams shared with Pap. He'd ponder the full ramifications of it blocking nightmares another day; the memory of his brother's expression had decided him. Agreement or no agreement, he was getting out of here tonight.

Of course, he couldn't pack up the stuff he needed before their lesson was done, or right afterward. He wasn't worried about giving himself away: as an accomplished bullshitter, he knew he was behaving perfectly normally. The moment dinner was cleared away, he called dibs on the bathroom, which had a nice, huge tub that he wanted to use one more time. When he was done and she'd gone in and locked the door – and after the usual stab of curiosity as to what she looked like outside of clothes – Sans quietly put everything he wanted into a satchel he'd found under the worktable, and stowed it behind the door in the bedroom, where he had to wait until she was done getting dressed.

The one odd thing was that after she emerged from her dressing room in her full priestess-y regalia, she went into her office and spent a few minutes doing nothing that he could hear, after which she was wearing a different brooch. She'd had a white one on the first day they met, but this one shone with a greyish light under her veil.

"Goin' so soon?" he asked carelessly. It was ten o'clock.

She smiled. "If my duties only included saying words and a few songs, I would sleep much easier. There's always someone to speak to before and after services."

"Gotcha. Well, have fun. 'm gonna read somethin' with a damn bookmark 'fore I go to bed—I forgot t'ask, mind if I try ta make a few things while you're not here?"

"Go right ahead. You'll pay for it if you burn down my workroom, so I'm trusting you to behave." Was he imagining a weird little inflection there? No, she looked totally wonderful. ...Normal. She looked totally normal. "Good night, Sans," she said, adjusting her veil.

"G'night, Frisk." He stretched out on the bed as she shut the door.

That was it, then. He might not ever see her again. It...wasn't a good feeling. In fact, it felt pretty bad. Time to quit feeling it, think of Pap, and focus on his plan of action.

The plan: well, for starters, it would be dumb to try breaking out immediately. He wished he knew exactly where the chapel was. He'd heard occasional church-type singing off in the distance, but that didn't give him an idea of how far away she'd be during the service, or for exactly how long. Instead, he watched the clock and fidgeted, as nervous as the first time he'd faced down a group of human sorcerers.

Maybe this was a dumb idea. Maybe he should just ask her to take down the barrier keeping him from dreaming with Papyrus, just for one night. She was too kind to refuse, and intelligent enough...

...to ask him for more information in exchange. Frisk knew he used to be a normal monster, and might think to ask if he'd always been able to speak across dreams; it wouldn't be too far a stretch for her to keep questioning how he became a boss monster. She'd also realize that if she let him communicate with other monsters, he could tell them several things that she would prefer they not know, including her identity and full capabilities. It was one thing for her to take a calculated risk and let him go back to the Underground with that information, or – much more likely – to make him forget it before he left; some humans had the ability to excise bits of memory like that. It'd be another thing entirely to permit a conversation that no one else could even hear. She was nice, not stupid.

So Sans waited until eleven forty-five, and then he sat in the workroom with the satchel looped around his wrist for another ten minutes, nerves humming. Then he got up, went to the double doors leading out of her rooms, and silently picked up a seven-foot decorative statue standing at the room's threshold, wedging it inward across the doorframe. He went back to the workroom, judged the weakest place in the outside wall, reared back, and slammed his fist directly between two of the windows.

Frisk had started to relax as the organist began playing and incense floated in the chapel air. She was opening her mouth for the first hymn when a warning note sounded in the back of her mind: the barrier to her workroom's outside windows was tingling, and then it suddenly burned away, the warning note sliding all the way up to a full-blown klaxon.

She gritted her teeth so hard that it hurt, controlling her expression with a supreme effort as the voice in her head screamed, Sans, you two-faced sack of fertilizer!

The only good thing about the situation was that she wasn't leading this service. Therefore, it was odd, but not completely conspicuous, when she stepped to the back of the choir, touched her new brooch, and vanished.

#frans this fic brought to you by ABC Mouse

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hummingbirdstars · 4 years

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I’m gonna create an AU

I think I’m gonna make an Undertale AU. Has anyone already used the name HelperTale? I hope not, because I want to!

So, the basis of HelperTale is that monsters and humans in that universe are distinctly aware of the multiverse, and try to stay as up-to-date on it as possible. As I have a lot to talk about, the rest will be under a read more bar.

Some kids are born with Aptitudes, where they can get special jobs and livelihoods based on the AU’s part as a multiversal helper.

One Aptitude is for Protecting the Home, where they are guards and protect the AU’s inhabitants from viruses (Fresh), corruption, and destruction.

Coding Aptitudes, for another, can be put into several categories- one to help hide the AU’s code (mainly from Error) and creating firewalls to keep their world safe. Another Coding Aptitude would be Searching, where those with that Aptitude would scour the Mutliverse for those in dire need of Helping.

And this brings us to the main point of the AU- Helping. Helpers are categorized into four, and are placed in groups of four. The first is the Coder, someone with a mix of Helping and Coding Aptitude. These Coders take in all the cries for help and find the first one that their group can safely handle. The second is the Imposter, someone with incredibly good acting skills who can go and take the place of the person calling for help- just for a little while, so they can recuperate. The third is the Healer, who stays in the Home AU and cares for the healing person- from the other AU, the one who called for help- still with me? The final person in this group of four is the Backup, someone who’s mastered all three Aptitudes, so they can take over in case someone of the other three is busy.

Backstory is something I’m still coming up with, but I have a few ideas. First, Aptitudes only pop up when a kid turns 8 years old. At this point, the Seekers (another Aptitude, where they spend years honing their senses so they can detect other Aptitudes) will go to the house of the child and look at their Aptitude. Depending on what it is, the kid will go to one of several special Villages as a new home, a new life. They can still chat with their families, but only those with Aptitude may know where the Villages are.

Second, children spend their entire childhoods in their Village. Every single kid gets a little USB slot (special-made for the AU) installed in their skull. This is in case someone gets corrupted while on a mission or on their duty, it heals and restores everything. These slots are covered up with code, and only the kid can wipe away the code on their own head, nobody else’s.

Third, anybody can cry for Help. It’s meant to have that same feeling the Player has in Undertale, you know, the *You call out for help, but nobody comes. Except those in HelperTale do their best to make sure that somebody comes. But you can only use this once in your life, probably some sort of bull-crap code destiny thing that combines with all the other powerful AUs- if it’s truly a life-changing thing, that a lot of things depend on it but the person making the choice is a wild-card, that would constitute for a Cry For Help. Humans, Monsters, it doesn’t matter.

Fourth, once someone cries for Help, their world’s data (and their personal data) is given to a Coder who can help. The Imposter will plug in that data through the USB and temporarily remove their own personal memories, to properly play the part. Time will be frozen thanks to Determination. The Imposter will take the place of the person who cried for help- let’s call this super depressed person who needs help Zach, for simplicity- will take the place of Zach, and Zach will be brought to HelperTale.

The Coder will watch the progress of the Imposter- if they can eliminate what was hurting Zach, they will do it. While the Imposter lives out Zach’s life, so nobody thinks anything’s wrong, the Healer will take care of Zach and fix him up the best they can. This means mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually, and any other way needed. Once Zach is all healed up, the Coder will send a message to the Imposter- who by that time is hopefully in a good enough state of mind in Zach’s life to take it- and if all goes well, time will be frozen again. Zach will be given a very in-depth rundown of what went on in their absence, and Zach and the Imposter will switch places. The Imposter will regain their own memories, and Zach will be put in HelperTale’s logbook.

Of course, not every ‘job’ can go as smoothly as I just described. A lot of things can happen, and these things usually depend on the state of the AU. Imposters can get hurt, killed, tortured, and more. This is what they sign up for, using their Aptitude to help others. If the Imposter is compromised, the Backup will take the Imposter’s place, and the Healer will help both the Imposter and Zach.

But if monsters and humans are so different, how can Imposters look like them? Coding again, years of acting and specialized classes, and learning how to do everything imaginable, just in case. Magic is flexible, the world runs on code, and every single person with Aptitude at some point must be able to learn every single kind of magic. Yes, every single kind. Because of this, everybody is more-or-less equal, and thanks to knowledge and opportunity, there was never a war and Monsters and Humans are completely equal.

(I may even create a comic based off of this, if I get a drawing tablet- I even have ideas for the main ‘cast’, including my own OC who would be a Healer- who could also, with small modifications, act as an Undyne if need be!)

Sans: would have an identical twin. They would be Comic Sans (Sans, main ‘character’ like everyone is used to) and Sans Serif (personality of Underswap Sans). They are completely identical, but Comic has glasses and Serif strongly enjoys his bandana. They have twin Aptitudes of Helping. Comic is the Imposter of his group, and Serif is the Backup.

Papyrus: There is no Papyrus, not really, instead his name is Times New Roman, Roman for short. He’s snooty and arrogant, because he’s good at his job (being a Papyrus) and he knows it. Given an accident or two and a character arc, he could end up being a very likeable character indeed. He is not in the Sans’ group, but in his group he is the Imposter. In school, he was very popular.

Alphys: Her name would be Ally here, and she’d be tinted more green than yellow. Again, if she needed to play an Alphys, simple enough. She has a Coding/Helping Aptitude, and is in the same group as the twin Sanses.

Undyne: The younger sister of my OC, and has a crush on Ally. She has a Protecting Aptitude, and takes pride in her virus-destroying capabilities. Thanks to how thorough she is, she is swapped out between the AU itself, and protecting Villages. She’s well-traveled, still brash at times, but very open and accepting.

Toriel: Red Magic (Determination and Time) teacher. Called Miss Tu-Toriel because of how wonderful she is. Is the collective Mom of the Helping Village, and takes her duties very seriously. Very old, very strong, and is the last line of defense if anything gets into the Village. Offers cooking classes as an extra-curricular- after all, there are plenty of worlds out there, this one included, where cooking is a valuable skill, is it not?

Asgore: Teaches Cyan and Orange (Stopping and Moving) Teacher. Is called the Dad of the Helping Village. Never fought with Toriel, and is happily married to her with their children (Asriel, Frisk, Chara, and Kris). He enjoys gardening, and offers it as an extra-curricular- after all, there are plenty of AUs that deal with plants, and I’m not simply talking about the Floweys!

Asriel: Different entity to Flowey- Flowey’s are rather different, I’ll get to them in a minute. He has fire magic, primarily. As an adult, he teaches basic classes on all seven main types of magic. Also teaches yoga, is surprisingly flexible.

Chara: They teach classes about dealing with LV and EXP, on both ends of the spectrum and everything in-between. They also teach classes in dealing with murderers, and using words to their advantage. Can be bribed into extra Determination classes with chocolate.

Frisk: They teach classes in code and rule-breaking, such as manipulating souls and buttons and the like. They also teach classes that talk about dealing with any kind of mental illness, whether seeing them or pretending to have them, or actually having them. They are very kind and well-liked, but are terrifying when they actually get mad.

Kris: They are the Caretaker. If an Imposter is in a bad spot, they can usually count on Kris to create a distraction (somehow) and help them get out. Kris is powerful, and gives fighting lessons. They have never been beaten, ever, not in anybody’s memory.

Gaster: Has a Seeking Aptitude, but has an affinity for Coding. As a result, he invents all sorts of things that have to do with Aptitude, hoping either to speed up or slow down the process- nobody knows why. Is the older brother to the Sans twins, and was devastated when they popped up with twin Helping Aptitudes. He sees them more often than their parents, but it’s the thought that counts!!

Flowey: Floweys are all over the place. They are made of different flowers so most can’t leave, but those who look even vaguely like buttercups usually have an Aptitude. No matter what, every single Flowey has to have a flower name, it’s tradition.

I’ll probably come up with more, but this is what I have for now!

#new AU #long post oops #UMTV #sans #papyrus #toriel #asgore #frisk #chara #asriel #flowey #gaster #undyne #alphys #HelperTale

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incarnateirony · 5 years

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Hey min, I just read your last post and I was wondering you could do one on the meta-narrative hostility (that most of fandom calls queer coding) of pre-dabb era? I’m a young queer who’s new to all this and doesn’t have the same experience or knowledge as older queer people (obviously) when it comes to these things. Only if you want to/and are able to though, it’s something I’d really like to read and educate myself on, thanks :)

Sure! I’ll get on that, I think @curioussubjects and I held a brief discourse over that recently, but I’m sure we could get into it deeper. I may even try to peel @thecoffeebrain-blog out of her fandom ban to talk about it too. Unfortunately it’s like 2something AM right now and I do not have the brain function to write up a whole-assed thesis on it.

But in short (which will probably still be about a page long)? I kind of want to flip a table any time I read “Dean Winchester has always been written as bisexual.” – and like. I even have friends that say that. Friends I adore. And I still want to flip tables. Because. Like. No.

Yes, Dean Winchester was based on a repressed bisexual, Dean Moriarty. The thing is knowing that about Dean Moriarty requires reading the late release manuscript, not the original. In, perhaps, an ironic statement on our current show, the widely spread original version was sanitized of queer content. But if anyone thinks Kripke was, back in S1-5, trying to make some sort of statement about repressed and sanitized queer culture, I really don’t know what to tell them beyond like. No?

I’d need to go digging – hence not having the time right now – for a full list of early season “bi Dean” moments. A great deal of them are actively homophobic as fuck things, like in Playthings taking a shot at Dean being butch over overcompensating, or whatever else. They used the statements as an insult, something to target, and aggress, and make a joke at a character’s expense – because being gay was immasculating and funny, haha, right?

Others included things like clothing choices, food choices, or other things that like… fandom swore up and down was queer coding and like– again– generally, no? Hopefully I don’t have to explain why in most scenarios those things are problematic.

Like you’ve seen me bang on about the menthols thing for example as queer coding – and yes! It is! Because that’s actually a queer culture thing. And like, ask any gay dude, literally, if he sees another, WHITE dude pull out a pack of menthols he knows who he’s going to try to flirt up tonight. There’s all kinds of reasons that was genuine coding written from a gay man that’s even a recovered smoker to the point his colleagues made light of it. Hell of an introduction, hell of a point, and something actually relevant to the represented demographic’s culture. (this actually does not apply the same to other ethnicities, it literally only applies to white dudes, and I could stat out the very real reasons about it some time, but not in this post)

We gays DO have our own language. As my friend Kris put it, “Whenever I see a woman has a purse I give up, cuz she’s either straight or at least in that ballpark where I’m gonna have to be the husband and hahahaha no.” – unshockingly, I don’t have a purse either. My wife does. I on the other hand am fine with being metaphorical husband role. She’s a femme, I’m not, it tracks.

But someone wearing a certain color, or eating a burrito is not a judge. Someone choking on a sausage for a punch line alongside a taco is– questionable on if even intended but again, guess what, a punch line at the receiving character’s expense.

A great WEALTH of early “bi Dean” moments are like this, even if we remove Destiel. And it’s a MESS. I give some leans of “not offensive but surrounded by enough offensive content in its immediate era that I don’t give it good faith” to moments like Dr Sexy. Sure. Those lay good potential groundwork.

Are there moments where Dean turned and looked at someone in a WAY? Yeah, sure. Was that scripted? Uh, generally no. Let’s face it. Jensen could have chemistry with a decommissioned droid if they were put on screen together.

Now, do those moments, that last section there – give early room for bi Dean being evolved into? Yes. Those moments do. Because evolving with chemistry and story is part of how it works. It’s the other shit we need to flush to the pits of hell, bathe in some glitter and chant some YMCAs to cleanse ourselves from or some shit.

Hell, let’s even look at season 7 with Dean flirting with the guard. Despite bobbing and weaving around most old bi Dean content for being flagrantly offensive when I made my Coming Out video, I kept that one. But even THAT runs a line. Why? Because Sam, later painted as an educated ally, starts laughing at Dean at the sheer idea of Dean doing it. Dean tells him to shut up which blows Charlie’s cover. Is that something actual bi people might have to deal with? Sure. Hence my choice to be willing to include the clip. But it was still. A punchline. At the queer content’s expense.

If you go and re-watch, I’d say, S1-7 and stop trying the “DIG FOR PROOF IN RETROSPECT TO PROVE DEAN HAS ALWAYS BEEN BI” dance, and watch – really, REALLY watch – the way any kind of queer mention was handled. Is. Gross.

By season 8 Carver seemed to be dabbling in it – enough that Phil Sgriccia and Ben Edlund, exec producers, started leaving commentary on the season 8 DVD, such as how Jensen played it, and the potential it created for love in all places, that he and Aaron could have had a life together. Still, Carver had a LOT of shit he was fixing from holding Gamble’s burning bag. And yeah, Gamble queerbaited. She fucked over a demographic, realized the demographic she picked was wrong, tried to bait back that demographic without intent to follow through on it, then was gone. (And hell, go look at The Magicians now and her Dances With Avoiding Calling Her Characters LGBT).

Season 8 was a tipping point. Did Aaron slap down the idea of having a moment with Dean? Sure. But… guess what? It was Dean being offended by not having a moment. Not Dean being offended being accused of having a moment. This is a very subtle tone change.

Watch forward after that. There might have been a few moments. But it wasn’t until S9 they onboarded a new LGBT author. An open one. An activist. And yeah, menthols and “play it like a jilted lover” showrunner directions began. It’s like looking back, they had the idea and realized what was taking shape, but didn’t know what to do with it. And Bobo was still the new kid on block that year. That was the same year they almost made Metatron’s heaven for Castiel be covered in naked Dean pictures. Some people lament the loss of that. I do not. Because guess what. That made it a joke again. A shot at Castiel’s expense, if one more personal than the old shots. It was painted for absurdity, not authenticity. But, unlike prior eras… they had the sense to change that and paint the absurdity in other ways with dangly cheap hearts and other silliness.

Good.

As you look forward, from there, the question is after season 9– when was the last “LOL GAAAAAAAAAAAAY” joke you heard? When was the last time you heard it be framed in such a way that the audience was designated to laugh at the arrangement? Was Colette… framed as funny when Bobo wrote it? Was the heart connection… written as funny? Were the hunter husbands… written as a punch line or joke?

Sure, Lily Sunder had some funny bits, bit it’s not Funny Cuz It’s Gay, it’s funny and gay, and this is an important distinction. If that were a het couple bickering in the car that episode, we’d laugh all the same. This, also, written by a queer activist. Was the mixtape funny? No. In fact, if we’re to take, say, modern Dean and Cas as the central manifestation of the bi Dean narrative all these years later, their funny moments aren’t funny because of their gender. Their funny moments are funny because of who they are, like any given couple on TV, not in expense to their sexuality.

Even “attached at the everything” is more a fandom problem. There was no cue for that to be a laugh track. There was no recoil, no denial, no flinch, no nothing. It was just a barb of a demon in the know of the nature and depth of their bond needling where it hurt like any other relationship. It’s the fandom that chose to put a laugh track on it.

Beyond this though, I’d need to take the time to go and pick through the different individual moments and break them down and really pick apart WHY they were problematic in the old days. Hopefully this summary is a nice start.

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musedblues · 5 years

Text

Always Something There To Remind Me [Part: 4]

summary: Home is where the heart is. You’re working on finding yours. After a handful of misfortunes, your old friend Joe helps to unravel life’s greatest mystery while adding a bit of extra grief to the mix.

warnings: Some fun, a little angst, and a whole lot of mixed feeling!

w/c: 6k

a/n: We’ve reached the halfway mark of this story! I hope you enjoy this update. Let me know what you think, lovies!

taglist: @im-an-adult-ish @mrsmazzello @lettinggosthehardestpart @the-moving-finger-writes @imtheinvisiblequeen

Part 5

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The spring was blossoming to life and after your fair share of sulking, you went on the hunt for a job. Funeral expenses and travel had cleaned out your account, and you needed income. In the local mall, you scored part-time at a tiny flower shop. A lovely couple of old men owned the place and handled deliveries, insisting your only job was to sit behind the register and wait for customers to buy something.

There were plenty of shoppers, but even more spare time to listen to podcasts and text Tegan. You were in the middle of sending your friend photos of the floral arrangement one of your bosses let you mess around with over lunch break, when a familiar voice floated past your counter.

“Oh my God!”

Lacy Duval was standing in front of you with a strangely excitable grin and a perfect ponytail flowing from underneath a Yankees ballcap. Oh my God was right.

“Hello, Lacy.” You gave her a cagey smile. There was no reason not to be polite, but something about the girl really got under your skin.

“I saw you here on my way to Urban Outfitters and I couldn’t not say hello.” The girl was pretty. It almost blinded you to look right at her. But she’d taken to leaning against the counter to shove her smile in your face.

“Well, hello.” You offered once more. “Please, don’t let me get in the way of your shopping.” You nearly plead, glancing past her, willing another customer to show up.

“Oh, no I work at Urban. I totally don’t mind clocking in a few minutes late.” Lacy giggled like this was some kind of big, secret, inside joke. You only let out a very nervous chuckle, afraid if you opened your mouth again you would be a little too rude. Lacy leaned against your register for five solid minutes, gabbing on about the mall and the people she worked with and how she’d never see you here before. All while looking over her shoulder and around yours, like she had somewhere better to be. That’s what stopped you from dropping your guard and actually listening to what Lacy had to drone on about.

She left with a reluctant sigh and you wondered how she justified talking to you for so long with absolutely nothing to say. You shook it off in a hurry, going back to your texts with Tegan and selling a few promposal bouquets near the end of your shift.

Except after then, something horrific happened. For the next two weeks, Lacy kept coming in to say hello. Every. Single. Day. She even learned your schedule and made a habit of stopping in to greet you before her shifts across the mall started. And for a while, you didn’t totally mind the tradition. She kept it up so long, with a pleasant smile. She must have really wanted to talk to you, right? But by her fifth visit, her all too obvious intentions were finally brought to light.

“So how’s Joe, then?” Lacy kept her smile wide and her eyes glued on yours.

“Oh, you know, some kind of superstar.” You half-joked, almost through your teeth. Joe was off with his castmates, winning awards and attending red carpet parties. You couldn’t have been happier for him. He deserved a bit of fun after the winter was so cruel. You just didn’t like that Lacy was asking.

“He’s always been popular but he’s properly famous now, isn’t he?” Lacy pointed out, giddy. “Every time I post a photo with him I swear I gain at least a hundred more followers!” She practically swooned.

It took every ounce of your strength not to throw your head back and groan out loud. Yeah, he was an actor. Yeah, he was good- and recognized for it. You’d had this conversation more times with more people than you ever really realized was possible. And if ever he dared mention your old pal, Kris always referred to Joe as “that famous friend of yours.” Was Joe’s celebrity really all that mattered to anyone? What about his favorite Chinese food, or his theory about the end of Easy Rider? He was a motherfucking person.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get much worse, it got so much worse.

You had just closed up shop, paying no mind to the last-minute mall rats who still bustled around the other open storefronts. Before you could make your way too far past the flower shop, someone tapped you on the shoulder.

It was Joe, who proceeded to wrap you in a big hug the moment you registered his surprise presence.

He was gone for what felt like longer than ever before, but he looked way more happy to see you now, than the last time you reunited. You threw your arms around his shoulders and he lifted you off the ground for a moment, exchanging merry hello’s.

“Alright, alright! We have a guest.” Joe set you back on your feet, gesturing to a very tall and happy looking fellow you recognized from many photos.

“Gwilym.” You proudly smiled up to him, confirming you knew of him well enough to be happy to see him here now.

“Y/n!” He pointed at you, as if this meeting were a long time coming.

Joe went on to explain how Gwilym had been staying with him the past couple of days after all the press tours and premiers were over. And how they drove all the way back here to Joe’s measly hometown because his mother insisted they both stop over for brunch, so she could get the chance to see Joe’s friend. Apparently, she adored Gwilym. You could see why, even just having met the guy, he oozed a certain gentle charm.

Joe knew to find you here at the mall, because you’d kept up your promise of sending the occasional text message update when something more than mundane happened in each of your lives. You listened to him and Gwilym yammer on about how exciting the past couple of months had been for them, taking a beat to notice how good Joe looked. There was a light in his eyes you hadn’t seen since you’d been back in the states.

And then you saw her. Lacy was leaving her shift down the way. You watched her realize just exactly who was talking to you, stop, and turn in a very big hurry in your direction.

“Joey!” She shrieked, rushing up to your best friend. Gwilym was practically shoved aside by the girl on her mission to invade Joe’s personal space. What was even more unsettling was how Joe seemed glad to see her. He pulled her into a friendly embrace that she squealed during. Even though you and Gwilym had just met, the two of you shared a befuddled expression trying to reason why you’d both been left on the sidelines all of a sudden.

Even when Joe pointed to Gwilym, introducing the strangers to each other, Lacey didn’t dare turn her gaze from Joe. She didn’t miss a beat as she went on saying;

“I’m so glad you’re here! So listen, my sisters are throwing this big party and I promised them I’d get you to come. I wanna show you off!” Lacy swayed in place, looking up to Joe through her fake lashes.

“Oh, wow uh sure, when is it?” Joe smiled, pulling his phone from his pocket as you crossed your arms, realizing you were invisible to her now. Lacy gave Joe the details and had the nerve to sweep her eyes over you as she skipped away. What the fuck? She’d spent all month popping in to “say hello” to little old you, but now that Joe was around you’d become irrelevant. She was only trying to get to Joe and you knew it all along, but you were still fuming at her disregard for you during the past couple minutes.

“That was weird.” Joe realized with a shrug, watching Lacy walk away. You knew if you responded you’d only blow a gasket, and luckily Joe was interested in moving on. Gwilym stood watching on in near comical horror as Joe snapped everyone back to business.

“Alright, listen this is very important.” Joe grabbed your shoulders, wearing another hopeful grin. “I want you to come back and stay with us, this weekend. But the thing is you need to say yes right now, cause we’ve got to leave right now.” Joe nodded. You realized he was serious or he wouldn’t have tracked you down at the mall, with the excitable, dashing Gwilym in tow.

///

Gwilym was put to work charming the socks off your mother as Joe raced you up the stairs to help pack your bags. He was desperate to make it to some very specific pizza place before it closed for the night. You just laughed as he threw your clothes into an old JanSport, before stealing it from his grasp to finish packing your thing; full of mostly new clothes you splurged on with your first big paycheck. As you packed them to wear, you felt strangely like life was finally taking a turn for the better.

When you scurried back down the stairs, Gwilym had managed to make a cup of tea and was busy trading some recipe with your mother who was sad to see him go. Joe rushed the pair of you out the door and off onto an adventure.

Gwilym insisted you take the passenger seat on the way to the city and begged you to expose the depths of your Spotify playlist, from the back. The car ride was spent laughing about the musical phases you’d all gone through, and rocking out to the classics everyone loved.

“Hey, this is fun.” It hit you as you gazed at the cars zooming past the speed limit on either side of the freeway, and you didn’t feel usually dreadful. You let the comment slip out without thinking about it, without thinking of Gwilym in the back who might have wondered why you’d be shocked to find a road trip suddenly appealing.

But Joe knew, and he smiled as if to disguise a frown. He seemed to get this same strange look on his face when you even slightly alluded to your recent past.

“John told me what happened, why didn’t you?” Joe asked, quietly, worriedly.

Oh, yeah. Your car slid off the road last month.

“I didn’t want to make a big deal about it.” You shrugged, almost too much like a little kid. But you caught a glimpse of Gwilym in the back, pretending not to notice the shift in conversation. So you reached to turn the music up, and Joe reached for your hand.

Then you all declared this weekend was to be dedicated to nothing but having fun.

///

You made it to the city in time to hurry into Joe’s favorite pizza place an hour before closing, where you and Gwilym played the basic twenty questions of getting to know each other. And there was no stopping the way you each roasted Joe into oblivion, making him laugh all the while.

Joe’s apartment looked different than it had in all the photos you’d seen. The walls were decorated in old family photos and there were plenty of knickknacks you recognized from the years gone by, and some you didn’t. Stepping foot into his home felt strangely invasive, and you felt funny for wishing you’d been here more times than just this once.

You thought it was only natural that Gwilym took the only guest bedroom. The guy was one hundred feet tall, and you had no business taking up Joes spare California King. But Gwilym insisted the couch was just fine by him, and it was a big sofa after all. All of his bags seemed to be resting in an armchair nearby, anyhow. You couldn’t justify arguing, and soon you were shutting yourself into the spare room with sleep on your mind.

That was until rain pelted against the sealed window next to you, and you swore you saw a draft blew the blinds back. You cursed your hasty packing. You’d only grabbed an oversized tshirt instead of a sweater. After a moment of bringing your bare knees to your chest to get warm, desperate times called for desperate measures.

The apartment was dark, and Gwilym was peacefully sleeping on the L shaped sofa, borrowed knitted throw blankets decorated across his form. The glow from the streetlamp outside the kitchen window provided enough light for you to tiptoe toward Joe’s room, where soft yellow light seeped through the bottom of the door. Was he still up, too?

You knocked softly, in case he was asleep and your silly request wasn’t meant to matter. But you heard a shuffled from close beyond the door, and soon it creaked open.

“What’s up?” Joe asked, seemingly a little surprised to see you, but it was hard to read his face in the dim doorway.

“I just forgot a sweatshirt. Could I borrow one?” You asked sheepishly, folding your arms out of shyness and a bit of a chill.

“Yeah of course.” Joe breathed in sharply, turning on his feet toward his closet. The door creaked open further and you noticed Joe rub his eyes, before reaching to grab an old college sweatshirt. What was up with him tonight?

“Hey…” You cautiously began, slipping into the room and clicking the door shut. “Are you alright?” You padded toward your friend as he barely turned toward the sound of your voice.

“Uh,” Joe seemed to decide as he gently shoved his sweatshirt toward your grasp. You instinctively held it to your chest but dropped it the moment Joe turned away and started drifting toward his bed. Before he could totally answer your question he started to cry. The second you registered his snivels you darted toward where Joe stood quickly falling to piece. Then he began to explain himself.

“We said our goodbyes and everything, I shouldn’t still be so sad.” Joe croaked, covering his face with his hands so you couldn’t see his broken expression. But you felt the weight of his sadness stomp your heart out.

“You just miss him, Joe. It’s okay to miss him.” You missed his dad too, but saying so seemed selfish. Joe was still catching his breath under his hands as you pulled him toward his bed where the covers were already turned down.

You laid him down and wasted no time curling up next to him, pulling his head toward your shoulder. Joe sheepishly latched onto you while he steadied his breathing, and neither of you spoke. You just smoothed down his hair while he grabbed onto you. Joe was stronger than before.

“You are cold.” Joe noticed, chucking a little into your hair. But you sort of forgot your reason for coming in his room or the goosebumps that decorated your bare legs. You were completely comfortable in his arms. His embrace made you warmer than any sweatshirt ever could. You felt attached to him, but simultaneously cautious of the affection, you didn’t deserve this kind of all-encompassing comfort. Why was Joe’s embrace so much more multiplexed than it had been some odd years ago?

Joe was quiet, but the silence was heavy with whatever was on his mind. You could tell he wanted to say something more, but he never did. You lay together in understanding silence, trying to unravel your tangled thoughts about it all. But the effort made you tired and you drifted off there with Joe.

You woke up later, completely unsure of the time, but noticing the sun had yet to rise. Joe was still lying against you, now in peaceful sleep. You almost felt bad for squirming out from under him. You would hate to disrupt him, and his body was warm against yours. But you knew you couldn’t stay. Tiptoeing toward his door, you scooped up the previously abandoned college sweatshirt, squeezed through the door and back down the hall to the guest room. It was still cold, maybe even colder now.

///

Later that morning you awoke to a clattering from the kitchen. You slid some short on under Joe’s sweatshirt and ran your fingers through your hair before padding out of the guest room to discover what was happening.

Joe and Gwil were dressed for the day, drifting around the kitchen, arguing over something like an old married couple.

“Good morning mom and dad.” You snickered, grabbing your bottle of water from the night before, and watching Joe and his friend point to the oven. Joe shot you a look but turned his gaze back to Gwilym to finish the argument.

“If the fork comes out clean, it’s ready!” Joe pointed to the oven.

“Yeah, but you stuck it in the side, not the middle! You gotta go for the middle!” Gwilym argued. You took a sip of water and watched on in amusement. Had they really woken up and headed straight into baking something?

Joe turned to you, making some kind of whine as if pleading for you to help him prove his point. But Gwilym was right.

“He’s right.” You pointed your bottle toward Gwil who proudly sauntered behind the island to join you there.

“Ha!” Gwilym boasted.

“Ha? That’s the best you’ve got?” Joe playfully jabbed.

“It’s Welsh for ‘fuck off I’m right.’” Gwilym falsely reported, trying to save his comeback. Hey, that was good. You might steal that one. Joe laughed but looked at you with that same funny little micro-expression like he couldn’t choose between horror or sadness. But you couldn’t help go on smiling.

“You’re from there, right? Wales?” You moved your eyes toward Gwilym, who leaned against the counter toward you.

“Well no. Me mum is. I’m a fraud.” Gwil rose a brow and made you chuckle.

“Well, that’s a shame. We could have had our own secret language.” You gently admitted. Gwil kept a curious eye on you as he moved to sit next to you.

“You speak Welsh?” He asked, reaching for his cup of coffee across the island.

“I lived there for a while.” You shrugged.

“What the hell! Joe’s talked for ages about you but never mentioned that.” Gwilym cast a befuddled glance to Joe across the room. Joe talked about you back when you weren’t talking to each other? He was occupying himself with putting a couple of dishes away. You couldn’t read his face when he stepped closer toward the opposite side of the island. Joe responded by lifting his phone in the air and snapping a photo of you and Gwilym in the middle of the morning lit kitchen.

“What was that for?” Gwilym laughed.

“Something to remember you by when the oven catches on fire because we left this damn dessert in too long.” Joe fanned his hands around. You laughed out loud, utterly delighted to be amidst the chaos. You’d missed this side of Joe. His wit and spunk had sort of all but fizzled out through the winter. It was nice to see he hadn’t lost his touch.

The photo he took was accidentally wonderful. The bright kitchen looked like heaven around you and Gwilym, sleepily leaning on the counter.

“I’ve got to post this! Or do you want too?” Gwilym asked, pointing to the picture on your phone. You had an Instagram but scarcely used the platform outside of admiring other people’s posts. Something about how excited Gwilym became and how pretty the picture was made you excited to open the old dusty application. You sent the photo to yourself and posted it to your Instagram without hesitation. It looked like the start of something new. The bright white photo stood out among the rest of your grainy theme, mostly filled with photos of you and Tegan from the pub in Wales. You tagged Gwilym and Joe.

///

That day became a game of sneaking candid photos of each other. You snuck up on each other as you strolled through the city streets and snapped shots of one another buying ice creams and looking in storefronts. But the game got out of hand. Gwilym took one photo of Joe when he was least expecting it, as he was standing on his tiptoes to reach for something in a candy store you’d fallen into the trap of. Gwilym decided it was blackmail, and then the game was on. You got a photo of Gwilym taking a massive bite of lunch and Joe got one of you making some dumb face as you had to wait in line to use the restroom.

All the while, you felt hyper aware of your surroundings and started to take more photos of stickers on light poles and titles of books that were far too expensive but probably cheaper on resale somewhere. You watched Joe open a picture book of old school baseball players. You couldn’t help but snap a shot of the way he held the book open upon the stack of others. His long fingers ghosting over the pages like a treasure. The sun casting patterns across the scene.

“What is happening to you?” Joe laughed at your newfound hobby.

“We’re having fun, remember? I am anyway.” You chuckled, raising your camera inches from his face to snap a photo and giving him a mischievous grin before you scurried away. Joe’s laughter followed you out of the shop and all around the city.

That night Joe hyped you and Gwilym up into getting a little dressed up and going to a bar after dinner. Luckily the newer purchases you packed included a nice enough dress. Then you ended up at a piano bar. Something stuttered in your heart when you noticed the excitement in Joe’s eye’s as they peered into yours. You hadn’t played the piano since you sold your keyboard a couple of years ago. You barely even thought of playing, actually. But Joe clearly had picked this place for a reason, with the knowledge that it had always been your dream.

The piano bar was complete with green naugahyde and mahogany wood, totally stuck out of time but still classy somehow. The crowd varied in age, and you were charmed to find a girl younger than you playing the baby grand on the risen velvet stage.

You, Joe and Gwil sat in the middle of the room, at a cozy table. You ordered dark drinks and listened to each other’s stories while other peoples chatter blurred into the background. Joe ordered something fruity with a straw and held it in front of you, insisting you try it. You took a sip and looked to your friend with wide eyes to confirm it was super good. Gwilym snapped a photo of the two of you then.

“Awe, see, that’s the opposite of blackmail!” You chuckled.

“Or is it?” Gwilym shot you a menacing grin as he stood to order a new drink at the bar. Before you could decode his secret message, a voice caught your attention.

A nice looking gentleman with a German accent tapped on the microphone at the front of the stage as your friend walked away.

“Tonight we are inviting you lovely crowd to come up and play if you know how, or even just want to. Don’t be shy, but do take turns!” The man encouraged, slinking off stage while waving for the crowd to get up and muck about.

“You should.” Joe leaned forward, speaking quietly just to you. His soft gaze made your heart crack a little. You weren’t about to do that. But you almost wanted to, just because of how excited he looked. Had he known this was going to happen? Or was he just dazzled by the hands of fate opening this random door?

“Oh, I don’t know.” You shrugged sitting up a little. Joe did the same, following your gaze. “I haven’t played uh… for a while.”

“Oh, really?” Joe frowned. You didn’t want to disappoint him. You knew he chose this place just for you. But you couldn’t lie.

“I sold my keyboard years ago.” You sorrily shrugged, recalling the time you had no other choice to pay rent. And realizing now that you never told Joe out of some kind of shame. You’d moved overseas with big plans to play, and they all crumbled around you.

“Oh…” Joe bit his lip and got that look in his eye that you realized he always got at the mention of Wales.

“Okay listen.” You turned to Joe, gently demanding his attention. You’d had enough wine to delve into this conversation. And you had finally become fed up with how Joe always seemed more upset that you at the mention of your past.

“Kris and I were like… broken up or something for like, months near the end. Things weren’t good. All I’m saying is that things with him were over before they ended for real. And I don’t miss him. I don’t. I know I should. That’s what keeps me up at night. But I don’t miss him. So please don’t look at me like I’ve lost everything.” You spoke, reaching out touch Joe’s arm. He uncrossed them and turned to face you then with an answer.

“What happened to your 'it’s okay to be sad’ speech from last night?” Joe furrowed his brow, speaking a little louder than you had been to get his point across. But you didn’t feel better for talking about this, like you thought you might.

“This-” You sighed a groan, wanting to suddenly move far away from this topic. “This is different. My life in Wales died when Kris did, okay?” You decided, getting a little angry at the end of your sentence. You wanted to move on. That’s when Gwilym reappeared, a new drink in hand.

“Should we… maybe call it a night?” The lean Brit suggested, glancing between you and Joe. Your friend looked like he had more to say, but you couldn’t go on talking about it all tonight.

“No!” You demanded. “Sit down right now so we can have fun!” You’d gotten your first taste of good times after fearing they’d never come again, and you weren’t ready to give them up.

“This place is beautiful and I’m glad you picked it out, Joe.” You looked to him sincerely and his once-troubled expression softened. You hadn’t realized you left your hand on his knee until his fingers rested on top of yours.

///

After a few rounds of drinks and jokes about things you missed laughing about, you found yourself locked away in Joe’s guest room for the second night in a row; comfy in the sweatshirt you once asked to borrow (now sort of taken hostage.) Your phone rang as you turned down the bed, and you answered right away.

“Helllooo!” Tegan chirped from the other line right away, like she’d been waiting on to hear from you for weeks on end.

“What have I missed this time?” You laughed, snuggling against a heap of pillows.

“Me! You’ve missed me. Actually, I suddenly feel like I’m the one missing out.” Tegan playfully scoffed on the other line.

“Well, of course, I miss you but what are you talking about?” You wondered. Tegan knew the only activities that filled your days were sleeping, working and occasionally seeing Joe.

“I’m talking about the dreamboat in your Instagram post! What kind of bender are you on? Does he have a hot brother or would he be interested in-”

“Oh, God.” You cut her off with a laugh, afraid of what she might say next. “He’s Joe’s friend from the movie. And that’s all.”

“So he’s single and ready to dial my number then?”

“Well, he is Welsh.” You chided.

“I know, I stalked his profile long before this interrogation.”

“So then what’s with the twenty questions?” You laughed. Tegan never failed to keep you guessing.

“I was trying to get you to admit you miss me and this place so much that you’d found a tall handsome fellow to bring you back round.”

“No, no I’ll come back on my own someday, dear.”

“I know.” Tegan lowered her voice as if someone else might have been listening.

“I’ve got to find my sea legs though, yeah? I haven’t had a nightmare in a couple of weeks.” You proudly state, tossing the covers over your legs.

“That’s because you’re living the dream, honey,” Tegan stated, as if she really meant it, as if it wasn’t a joke.

After chatting a while longer about how she’d been managing the pub without you and filling you in on the happenings about the quaint little Welsh town, you had to call it a night when your eyes could hardly stay open.

After you hung up, your phone buzzed a few times in a row. Who could possibly try to be getting ahold of you now? You checked to find a notification from Instagram, about a new follower. Assuming Gwilym had just finally got around to liking the photo you posted featuring him, you went to go admire it one last time. But before your eyes focused on the photo in question, a shocking number arose from your notification button.

You had hundreds more followers and more than a thousand likes on your newest photograph. below hundreds of comments.

y'all are so CUTE!

Why is Joe tagged?

Is that his sister?

Where is Joe?

Oh shit, you thought. These boys really mattered to people who didn’t know them. They found you all because you’d tagged Gwilym and Joe. They wanted to know why Joe was tagged. They cared. The astounding influx of followers and likes alarmed you for a few seconds, as you stared at your profile, wondering if you should delete everything. But why? You were proud to finally have something to post about that wasn’t old a grey.

Just as you thought of closing out the app, another notification popped up, unlike all the rest. Joe had tagged you in a photo. He’d just posted the picture of the two of you that Gwilym had taken at the piano bar. The one of you drinking from the glass Joe is holding while you’re looking at each other. In his caption, only a couple of music note emojis.

///

Gwilym left the next afternoon, with a long face and a suitcase full of New York souvenirs. You hugged him for a long time at the loading gates of the airport and laughed when he lifted Joe off the ground for a hug of his own. You weren’t sure if you’d ever see Gwil again, because that’s how life worked. But instead of worrying over it, you felt happy to have gotten to know him.

Joe started the long drive back to your hometown. He blabbered on about how he needed to help his mom with something anyway so he was glad you came along in the first place, just so he could drop you back off again. But you started to feel bad about how long you’d spent mucking about Joe’s flat and wasting his newly valuable time.

“I can drive a little, if you want.” You nervously offered to spare him a little while of responsibility.

“Do you want to?” Joe shot a curious glance your way as he drove out of the city.

“I don’t mind.” Because, no you didn’t really want to. But you would.

“It’s okay,” Joe assured, settling back against his seat, both hands on the wheel.

“Well, then I can give you gas money, yeah?” You thought. You were suddenly desperate to pay him back somehow for the weekend.

“No,” Joe laughed unbelievably. “Why are you being weird?” He was still chuckling.

“Because! This weekend you’ve been absolutely way too generous. So let me do something for you! Are you hungry? I’ll get us dinner.” You waved your hands to make your point and turned to face Joe from the passenger seat.

“I guess I could eat, yeah.” Joe smiled, nodding his head toward the road as he drove. You were a couple of hours away from home, and thirty minutes from a few good stops.

“Alright! Cheesecake Factory. No buts! Step on it!”

“Do you have Stockholm Syndrome?” Joe outlandishly quizzed. You laughed. “Do I have Stockholm Syndrome?”

Joe continued to imagine insane scenarios all the way to the Cheesecake Factory. You skipped inside together and put your name in at the desk. There were three other families ahead of you in line, and a big party that had followed in just behind you and Joe. You didn’t mind the wait, and leaned against the wall next to Joe, clutching the restaurant buzzer in your fist.

“We’re going to tell them it’s your birthday, so get ready.” You smiled as if you were kidding, but you weren’t. There was a deep desperation in you that demanded you shower Joe with the kind of attention he’d shown you this weekend, and always now that you thought about it. You were tired of sulking. You were ready to get back to the way things should have always been.

“Why can’t we tell them it’s yours?” Joe jabbed your side, his sparkling eyes looking into yours with a question.

“Because tonight is very special all about you night.” You reminded as if this had always been clear.

“Alright well, I want to tell them it’s your birthday.” Joe decided, imitating a snotty brat, sticking his nose in the air as if to make his decision final. Just as you started to laugh and curse at him, someone snaked their way through the waiting area packed with people and stopped in front of you.

“You two!” A voice rang. You were looking at Joe when you heard it, and watched his eyes turn in recognition. A girl with mousy brown hair dyed blue at the tips stood in front of you, and she looked the same as she had in high school.

“Keeley!” You practically shrieked, pushing yourself from the wall to wrap her in a hug. Keeley was one of your closest friends from high school. She would invite you over to play guitar hero and help you cheat on homework. When you weren’t riding bikes around town with Keeley, you were usually with Joe, but on many treasured occasions you could be found at the baseball diamond as a trio, when her little brother was on the same team as Joe’s brother.

“I didn’t realize you were back in town.” Joe hugged the girl after you had your turn. She went to Chicago after graduating and you slowly stopped texting each other long-winded updates over the years, even forgoing checking in on social media. But there didn’t seem to be any hard feelings.

“I didn’t realize either of you were back in the country!” Keeley laughed, looking between you and Joe.

“Oh, God I’m sorry, babe-” Keeley turned around and wrapped her fingers around someone’s wrist. “This is my fiance Rebeca.” Keeley beamed a smile at a woman with big brown eyes and a timid smile.

“This is Y/N, who I will always be indebted to for getting kicked off the volleyball team when she took the blame for the time I slashed the principal’s tires.” Keeley fawned over you as you shook your head in remembrance.

“And this is Joe, our resident movie star and the only person who has ever beaten me at Scrabble.” Keeley gestured to Joe as her fiance cocked her head. You knew that look. Joe did too.

“Hey- weren’t you in that Queen movie?” Rebeca pointed up to Joe with a smirk. He let himself smile and started to give a coy nod as he turned his eyes toward you, for some reason.

“That’s why you were so excited to see it, huh?” Rebeca turned to Keeley and your old high school friend started to laugh.

“I’ll always go see your movies, Maz. I’ll even sit through shitty cop shows just to see that cute face of yours. You’re really good, ya know that?” Keeley gave Joe a playful punch in the arm when your buzzer started to go off.

“I’m still much better at Scrabble than anything else.” He smiled.

“Man, we’re being summoned.” You frowned, holding the timer in view.

“Call next time you’re in town!” Joe demanded toward the girls, preparing to follow you toward the desk. You reached out to give Keeley a quick hug. You waved to Rebeca and assured it was nice to meet her as the ladies turned to leave.

“Come on, birthday boy.” You grinned, looping your arm through Joes and foiling his plans to foil yours.

“It’s your birthday? Happy birthday!” Rebeca called over her shoulder.

“Thank you.” Joe sighed through his teeth, dragged you away giving you a look that made you laugh out loud. You totally won whatever game you were playing tonight.

But just nanoseconds before Keeley and Rebeca were out of earshot, you heard your friend’s fiance gush “They were so cute together!”

But you were too distracted by a friendly hostess to let the distant comment sink in.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

#joe mazzello #joe mazello x reader #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello imagine

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